Page 130 of The Space Between
I drop my forehead against hers, breathing her in, feeling every inch of my restraint hanging by a frayed thread. I nod. “I do, but you scare me,” I whisper.
She stills, her hand pausing. Her brows furrow and she winces as her bruise pulls. “I scare you? Why? I don’t want to,” she says.
“No.” I shake my head. “Not like that, Blakelyn.” I pull back so she can see my eyes. “You scare mebecauseyou make me feel like there’s something left to live for again. You scare me because as broken as I am, as much of a shell as I am, you make me feel… you got metoloveyou. You allow me to becapableof love.” Her mouth forms an “o” and her eyes well with tears. “And I haven’t felt that since the day I lost them. I didn’t think I could ever feel that again. But I do…I love you.”
She swallows hard. “Gruene… I love you.”
I nod once. “I still hear them sometimes. In my sleep. In the wind.” My voice cracks. “I tried to shut it all out, Blakelyn. The memories. The love. The guilt. Because living with it felt like drowning. But not remembering feels wrong. I didn’t want to love you… because it felt like that was betraying them. But I think—I think they would want me to love you. It—it almost feels like they…approve? Is that insane?”
Is it?
Because it does.
When I have my doubts… their love fills me.
I remember it.
And it feels like they’re sending it to me to tell me it’s okay.
She leans closer. “And now?”
I exhale. “Now I feel like I’mbreathingagain. And it scares the hell out of me.That’s why you scare me.”
Taking my hand, she places it flat against her chest. “You feel that?” Her heartbeat thunders under my palm. “I’m scared too,” she whispers. “You’re not the only one with ghosts. Gruene. But… I love you.”
I close my eyes, letting it sink in.
She gets it. She gets me. And I need her to know.
I need her tohear it.
I open my eyes and while staring into her amber ones, I say, “I love you, Blakelyn Walker.” It’s clear and I feel…peace.
She goes still again. Her eyes fill. Her mouth softly parts.
“I don’t knowwhenit happened. Maybe it was when you brought me a muffin even though you said I might hate bananas. Maybe it was when you helped me with lifejackets and tubes and made Reece cry from laughing so hard at the launch. Maybe it was when I saw you standing in the river in your clothes, completely feral and unafraid and absolutely fucking radiant.” A broken laugh escapes her lips. “But it’s real,” I whisper. “And it’s yours.”
She blinks fast, tears gathering. “I said it first.” She chuckles. “I did. I said it first.”
I don’t move. I just let it hit me.
Every word. Every ounce of meaning.
I said it first.
“You did.” I smile. A real one. It stretches across my face.
She nods. “I did. I meant it before I said it though. I meant it when I let you touch me like I was something you could feel without breaking. I meant it when I asked you to stay. And Idamn suremeant it when I stood between you and him and said I wasn’t afraid anymore.”
Leaning in, I kiss her, careful not to hurt her. It’s slow but fierce… like it’s the only language I still speak.
Our lips cling for a long time. Softly moving together. When we pull apart, our foreheads still together, everything is different.
Not because we said the words.
But because wemeant them.
“I’m not letting you go,” I whisper.
