Page 85 of Aftersome
But I didn’t think either of us cared at the moment.
And soon, her remarks earlier about Hayes’s presence fading away came back to me.
It was as if all I needed was to have her in my arms, to finally have the answers or at least words for her.
“You're afraid if you have no more tears, you’ll be letting him go?” I asked, causing her head to tilt and her eyes to peer up into mine.
She nodded and quickly looked away as more tears began to fill her eyes.
“Look at me, Doe,” I demanded softly, causing her gaze to collide with mine. “You won’t let that happen. Thirty years from now he’ll still be with you even if you decide to move on, start a family, and continue to live your life.” More tears began to fall from her eyes. “Crying isn’t a measure of how much you loved and cared for someone. It doesn’t mean you’re letting them goif you one day stop.” I detached my arms from around her, and brushed away the fallen tears that had fallen down her cheeks.
This time, she let me.
“Hayes knows you love him. He knows we all love him, and that will never stop.”
She was looking at me differently now. Her eyes widened and sparkled with the remnants of her tears, but it was as if she was seeing me in a new light now. Like the revelation of finally seeing a new part of me had shocked her to her core.
With her back pressed firmly against my front, she slowly shifted herself to the side until she lightly placed her palm on my chest.
Specifically, my heart.
“Does your heart hurt? Like mine?”
More so now than ever.
“Every day,” I replied.
She nodded and dropped her stare to my chest.
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Of course.”
Slowly removing her hand, she slid her body back into position before resting her head back onto my chest.
“Why are you here?” she asked the same question again. This time, she wasn’t on the verge of telling me to leave. Instead, she was in the comfort of my arms, where I felt as though she belonged.
Maybe she wanted a different answer of why I chose to come here today, or maybe she had run out of things to say. Whatever it was, I didn’t care.
As long as I could stay like this a little longer.
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Never again.
“Did you want to be alone today?”
I pondered over her question. For so long, I used hockey as a scapegoat. Every year was the same—I used it as a distraction. Never letting myself feel too much or overthink because I knew once I was alone, I couldn’t handle it.
But right now, at this moment, it was different than what I was used to. Having someone here with me.
Having Doe with me.
“I used to.”
Her body shifted above mine.
“Not anymore,” I admitted. Then for the rest of the day, we just laid together. Holding on to one another despite all the reasons we shouldn’t. No more words were spoken, but they weren’t needed.
