Page 56 of Estranged Heart
What they had revolved around Silas being sick and needing Stacey. He felt comfortable, safe, and accepted, but that all went away when he was no longer a man with limitations. She accepted him at his worst but not as his best. She sees a confused man who needs fixing where I see someone finally coming into his own, someone who no longer has anything holding him back and keeping him from reaching for what he truly wants. She got to do whatever she pleased while she remained his only option, all he knew to be good. His key to the outside world.
He doesn’t need her for that anymore. He doesn’t need anyone. I don’t think he ever did. He’s strong and determined—which I always found admirable about Landon—but unlike my husband, Silas isn’t afraid to show weakness and vulnerability. He doesn’t try to hide behind a smile or gentle words. Everything is always right at the surface with him.
I turn off the car, parking down the street from his house like yesterday. I don’t get out this time, but wait until Silas is standing in front of his house before driving forward. He has an unsure look on his face as he slides into the passenger side with two bags in tow.
I toss them in the back, and put my foot back on the gas as soon as he’s buckled in. Instead of meeting up with me, he asked if I could pick him up—his meds make him too shaky to feel safe enough to drive.
“You sure you still want to go today?” I ask, shooting a quick glance in his direction.
He fumbles with his hands, sucking on his lower lip. “Yeah. I just can’t help but feel guilty for it. I hurt her. I really hurt her. She’s my best friend and I don’t know where this will leave us now. I still want her in my life no matter what happens, but I also understand if she doesn’t want to be.”
I take his hand, smiling softly. “I know, Sunshine. But she hasn’t been perfect herself. She’s been lying to you all this time, never being where she says she’ll be. Maybe she’s been seeing someone else. And it’s not like either of us planned this. I feel bad about it too—like absolute garbage—but killing ourselves with guilt isn’t going to take back what we did or change things.”
“Yeah. You want to know the worst part?” His brows pull tightly together as he stares at our joined hands. “I wouldn’t take it back even if I could. Not what we did at least. I do wish I’d told her sooner, but no matter what, I’d have still wound up breaking her heart.”
“How long has yours been broken for, and I don’t mean physically? How long has she made you feel alone and neglected? Like you’re the only one who had to do better?”
“Longer than I realized. I kept saying that once I was better we would be too. She’d go places with me again. She’d do whatever it took to be near me, and share all the first-time experiences with me. None of that happened, though. She left more often. Talked to me less. Touched me less.” His chest caves. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It’s still all my fault. It will always be my fault. I can’t feel what I need to feel. I keep trying and trying. It’s too heavy.” Tears spring from his eyes.
I stop the car to take him in my arms. His wet eyes press to my shirt and I rub a hand down his back. “You don’t need to say you’re sorry to me, remember? Especially not for expressing how you feel. I’m always here when you need someone to listen. Doesn’t matter what it’s about.”
He nods into my shoulder, sniffling. “I’m sorry I’m ruining our trip.”
I pull back, hooking my fingers around his chin. “And I’m sorry to have to be the one to make you regret that last apology later.”
He laughs, rolling his eyes. “I thought you said that in the heat of the moment. Like some role playing type of thing.”
“Nope.” I start the car again and place my hand back on his. “I very much meant it.”
He tugs on his seat belt, looking toward the window. “I probably don’t deserve to feel good today anyway.”
“Oh, I never said anything about not making you feel good. You’ll see soon enough that both are very possible. That’s if you’ll allow me to show you.”
Looking back at me, he presses his cheek to his seat, giving me a half smile. “I want you to show me everything.”
Those blue eyes brighten with so much excitement, causing my stomach to swoop. I bring his hand to my mouth, kissing the inside of his palm, grateful to be the one sharing all these firsts with him. He deserves to experience the whole world, and I’ll gladly help him do that one day at a time, as long as he continues bringing me good to go with my bad. I need it more than ever right now. The case has gone cold again and so has Landon’s side of the bed. I’ve been sleeping on the couch because I can’t bear to see the empty spot anymore. I kept reaching out to it in my sleep, waking up to my hands catching air.
I don’t have to look at reminders of what I lost when I’m here, only what I’m gaining. I don’t have to stare at the empty chair on the other side of the table while I’m eating breakfast, or scroll past all the documentaries Landon added to his watch list that he’ll never get to see now. At home, the only sounds I get are my own and the only smiles I see are in old photos. There are too many empty spaces and places I’m too scared to touch or move. Books my husband left unread and random items he set down around the house. There are things I wasn’t able to put away in boxes and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.
I move and do things without thinking when I go somewhere with Silas. His laughter brings out mine and his happiness is infectious. I look at him and feel those smiles and excitement in his eyes. So much better than being alone and trying to see what can no longer be there. Better than driving myself crazy with questions no one will ever be there to answer, or trying to fix what I can’t. It makes me feel so hopeless, not being able to change the past, and that’s all I want to do when I think about Landon and me.
All the things Silas needs from me can happen right here and right now. They aren’t beyond my abilities and don’t make me feel like I’m playing a losing game. I can go camping, get in the water, and hold his hand. I can touch him when he needs meto and keep him company when he’s lonely. There’s no wanting something so bad and withering inside from not being able to have it with him. Not yet. I shake away the unsettling thought of one day feeling hopeless when it comes to him too.
“This looks like a nice spot,” Silas says as we pass an empty camping site.
“There’s no one else around.”
“Exactly.” He smiles. “It’s not far from the water either, and has perfect shade.” He opens the door before I can fully stop the car.
“Silas,” I say sternly as he nearly trips on his own feet rushing toward a picnic table.
Closing his eyes, he inhales deeply and spins around. “Yup. This is the spot.”
Shaking my head, I laugh and get out of the car. He rushes toward me and helps me get everything out of the car. “You brought an ice chest?”
“Of course I did. It has our lunch, dinner, and drinks inside.”
“Oh. I didn’t even think about anything aside from stuff to make s’mores.” His hand freezes on his bag.
