Page 38 of Where the Stars Heal

Hunter’s going to kill me.

17

I DON’T BREATHE. I CAN’T BREATHE

HALLE

I hear the faint but distinct thud of footsteps coming my way, the rustling of trees in the air against the summer breeze, and the crunch of sticks and stones growing louder with each second. Anticipation stirs low in my stomach as my eyes stay focused on the clearing across Falls Creek.

We’ve been doing this quiet dance all week now, meeting down here early in the mornings without planning it, without telling anyone. I’m not sure who worked it out first, but Asher came to know that I spend my mornings sketching here, and I’ve learned that the guy never seems to sleep. Why anyone would want to work all night and wake early in the morning to run is beyond me. Maybe those nightmares he told me about are worse than I could ever imagine.

My heart squeezes at that thought. He still hasn’t told me anything more about his cousin, Aiden, or what happened, and as the days go by, I wonder if he ever will. I knew from the beginning that the pain and mistrust he was throwing at me came from something deeper. He saw right through me, and I think my pain triggered his own.

Shifting on the rock, I glance down at my sketchpad. My brows pinch inwards as I take in the drawing I started last night, the heaviness of it falling on my chest like a weight, pulling me down. Tracing my finger over the eyes I drew—the ones I miss so much—I swallow the lump in my throat. Gripping my pencil tighter, I tip my head back, closing my eyes and letting the sunlight breaking through the tree line wash over me. Hoping it’ll take the ache away. The warmth seeps into my skin, and my mind wanders, thinking about her and where she could be. She left me, and no matter how much time passes, I can’t stop missing her. If only I could. That would make the pain easier to live with, less overwhelming. It would fill the hole she left in my heart.

“Whose eyes?” His voice comes out of nowhere, and I jolt backward, my pencil slipping from my hand as adrenaline shoots through my veins and my stomach drops.

“Jesus Christ, Asher!” I yell, heart racing. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

I glare up at him as he stands over me, and my breath catches in my throat. Why is he so damn good-looking? Even after running, with his gray shirt sticking to him like a second skin from sweat, his shorts molded to his muscular thighs. He coughs, and I look at him sheepishly, only to find a cocky smirk planted on his face. He knows I was ogling him. I can feel my cheeks heating up, and I duck down to pick up my pencil, hoping to hide the blush.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

The way he says “sweetheart” hits me in the chest and makes my heart stutter. When he first started calling me that, I hated it. Loathed it, even. I’m not anyone’s sweetheart. I never have been, and there’s never been a future for me to be someone’s sweetheart.I’m worthless.But the more he saysit, the more I start to believe maybe I could be his. And that’s a dangerous thing to feel.

“Mhmm, fine,” I mutter.

“You know, I’ve always been told that when a woman says, ‘I’m fine,’ they don’t actually mean it.” He gives me that look that saysyou’re full of shit Halleand moves to sit beside me. “So, let’s try that again. You okay?”

A moment passes by in silence before he presses his leg up against mine, offering me that silent support he somehow knows I always need. I’m not sure when it happened exactly, but the connection between us grew this week. Since he opened up to me and gave me a piece of his past, it’s becoming harder to ignore. A part of me just wants to lay everything out on the table for him—to have someone there to help me shoulder my baggage—but the voices in my head won’t let me. They whisper to me every night, no matter how hard I try to fight them during the day.No one will ever love you. You’re just here to waste space.I’m so tired of fighting them.

“They’re my mom’s eyes,” I whisper low, not sure if Asher will hear over the waterfall crashing in the distance.

“You miss her?”

“Every day,” I choke out. “But I’m angry every day, too, because she was selfish, and she left me.” I turn my head to look at him and find him staring at me.

Asher’s eyes roam over my face, and an understanding passes between us. His hand tentatively and slowly rises, his knuckles brushing the side of my cheek, and I find myself leaning into his touch without a second thought. No one’s ever asked me if I miss her.

My nose stings as I try my best to hold back the tears that threaten to overwhelm me. No one’s ever seen me cry over her, either. His thumb gently sweeps over my cheek,and I glance down at her eyes—myeyes. They’re the same pale blue, almost gray, that Hunter and I share.

“Hunter’s never spoken about her,” Asher whispers, his voice gentle.

My eyes find his again, and he hesitates, uncertain if he should keep going. I give him a soft smile, silently telling him it’s okay.

“I know when he found out she left you, it killed him. Halle, he worried about you every single day. He tried so hard to get to you over the years, but his calls and letters, they all went unanswered. Until just over a month ago when you found his last letter and showed up here two days later.”

I suck in a sharp breath, holding it as Asher’s words sink in. I didn’t know this. He was reaching out to me, trying to get to me the whole time? My mind races back to that last letter I found. Without thinking, I flip through my sketchpad until I get to the back, where I folded and tucked his letter away. I’ve never gone back to read it and never thought about it until now. When I first found it, I was too torn up, too angry over what Ray had done, how he erased her from my life, that I didn’t stop to pay attention to Hunter’s words. I skipped straight to the number and address.

With shaky hands, I unfold the letter, smoothing the creases out over my legs. Asher shifts so he’s facing me fully and takes my hand in his. His warmth calms the jittery nerves racing through me as I lower my gaze and read Hunter’s letter.

Lil sis, this is going to be my last letter for a while… It hurts to write this because since I left you, I have done everything in my power to set up a life for us. You were never supposed to be away from me for this long and I don’t know at what point everything went to shit and I lost contact with you, but If you ever read this, I need you to know that I had to leave. There are things you don’t know and were too young to be told, and Halle, I hope like hell that one day we meet again so I can explain it all. Until then, I beg you to understand that I can’t keep going like this. The worry is eating me alive, and my friends, my family I found, they’re going crazy with me. I owe it to them to be happy. I’ll never stop worrying about you, but fuck, you’re twenty-one now and I pray you’ll find me. Like every other letter, my address and number are written below.

Please, lil sis, find your big bro and get out.

Love you.

Blurry… The words on the letter become blurry, and I blink rapidly, the tears spilling from my eyes. My hand that’s clenching my shirt near my heart grows damp. I can’t breathe. My chest hurts, my body stiffens, and I begin to shake.

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