Page 66 of The Space Between
We kiss for a long time, our lips just clinging and softly moving together. When we part, he rests his forehead against mine and whispers, “I’m still here.”
“You said that already,” I whisper back.
“Yeah. But I needed to say itto you.Not just leave it on your fucking counter.”
I close my eyes as his words fill the parts of my soul that he hasn’t touched yet. Breathing deeply, I simply say, “Okay.”
I’m cooking lemon pasta,roasted chicken, and a fresh peach cobbler in my kitchen when he stops on the porch like he’s not sure if he’s invited. The screen door is the only thing between him and me, so, I let him in like he never left.
After dinner, we don’t have sex. We don’t need to. We sleep in the same bed, stripped down to our underwear, but clothed. I wake up at 1AM to find him sitting at the edge of the mattress, staring out the window. I can tell he’s not seeing it though.
“You okay?” I whisper.
“No.” He says back. I sit beside him and he says, “But I’m here.”
I nod “Yeah, you are. First time you haven’t left.”
He turns his head and looks at me before crawling back into the bed and lying beside me, “I’m staying.”
I believe him. For the first time since I ran, I believe someone won’t just walk away.
Gruene isn’t walking away.
Gruene
I don’t sleep a wink.Not even close. I lie there beside her, still as stone, while her body curls into mine without hesitation. She’s soft and warm, and she smells like citrus and rosemary and the ghost of last night. Her thigh brushes against mine. Her breathing is shallow. Her skin is slightly damp from the heat lingering in this damn cabin, and yet, I don’t move.
If I move, I’ll break this.
And if I break this… I’m not going to survive it.
Her fingers twitchagainst my chest around 2AM and for one wild, stupid second, I wonder what it would feel like to fall asleep with her hand inside mine. To wake up with her mouth on my skin again. Her breath in my ear. Her body pressed close because shewantsto be, not because she has nowhere else to go. But I already know better than to ask for things I don’t deserve.
I slip out of bed before dawn. She stirs once but doesn’t open her eyes. She doesn’t ask where I’m going. She doesn’t try to stop me, but she doesn’t roll away from the space I leave behindeither. Instead, she curls into the space and snuggles her face against my pillow. My chest pangs.
The screen door creaks like it’s tattling on me as I step out onto the porch.
The river’s quiet this early. Mist is rolling low and soft across the current like it’s keeping secrets I’ve spent years trying to drown.
Sitting down on the top step with a mug of bitter coffee, the weight of everything I didn’t say last night sits hard in my chest.
I told her about Molly.
About Aubree.
About the worst night of my life and how it’s still echoing in my ribs like a scream that never ends.
What I didn’t tell her…
What I’ll never tell anyone.. is that I was twenty-eight and cocky and stupid and so fucking sure I could outdrive the storm.
And now they’re gone.
And I’m still here.
I feel her before I hear her. Her bare feet are on the wood. Her soft breath is in the doorway.
I don’t look back, but Ifeelthe moment she steps outside and drops down beside me.
