Page 16 of The Space Between
That last one, I don’tanswer. Because it’s not the silence. Not the ache. Not even the nightmares.
It’sfeeling something again.And worse, thinking of—losing it.
I’ve lived through that once. I’m not sure I’m capable or strong enough to do it again.
She appearsat the shack midday. She doesn’t ask, just shows up while I’m sorting rafts and stands in the doorway with her eyebrows lifted like shedaresme to tell her to leave. Reece is handling the river.
I don’t say anything.
She sits on the same stool as last time, barefoot and folded in half, arms around her legs like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“I want to be useful,” she says after a while.
I glance up at her, quickly. “You’re good.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I mean it. Tell me what to do.” She motions to the pile of busted life jackets I still haven’t dealt with.
I toss her a fresh buckle kit and show her how to weave it through the nylon strap. Her fingers tremble at first. Then, they don’t. She picks it up quickly and works quietly. She doesn’t ask for praise and doesn’t chatter. She just… helps.
The longer she sits there, the more something in me…unwinds. Not all the way. Not fully. Butenough.Enough to remember what it’s like to breathe without all of this weight on my chest. Enough to remember what it’s like to beseenwithout pity.
I glance at her again. Her brow is furrowed in concentration as she tugs the strap into place.
This is what it feels like to want again.
Reece pokeshis head into the shack before the last run of the day, all sweaty and wearing a smirk, fully aware that I’m not alone in here. “Barlow called. Wants to know if we’re still supplying tubes for the VFW float on Friday.”
“Tell him yeah. I’ll have ‘em loaded Thursday night.” I reply, shooting him a glare, silently telling him to shut up and head back out.
Reece nods but simply raises his brow at me as he looks at Blakelyn and back to me.
Narrowing my eyes, I jerk at the door with my chin.Get the hell out of here, man. Don’t say a damn thing.
He grins, but nods again. “Right. Got it, boss man.” He leaves without another word, but he’s whistling.
Asshole.
Blakelyn glances at me. “Should I not be here?”
Not as oblivious as I’d hoped.
“You’re good.” I retort.
Her lips purse, “He looked?—”
I cut her off. “It’s not a usual kind of thing.”
She tilts her head. “You’re okay with me staying?”
I nod. “You’re not staying. You’rehere.There’s a difference.”
Something flickers in her eyes. It’s not amusement. It’sunderstanding.
She knows this is something.
I feel it again.
That hum beneath my skin. That tug in my ribs. That part of me that’s waking up one slow, terrifying heartbeat at a time, though I don’t want it to.
