Page 90 of Your Echo
When I first read those lines as a kid, I thought they were about me. I’m not telling you this to earn your sympathy. I’m telling you this because I want to explain.
I clutch at the front of my t-shirt as I read the rest of Ace’s words, letting them fill my head with the story of a little boy who spent his childhood more terrified than any kid should ever have to be. I crouch beside him in his bedroom, trying to keep as quiet as possible. I watch from the window with him as my mom lies motionless at the foot of the stairs, and I feel the desperation and panic that crash through his head with so much force they leave him altered forever. I imagine the nightmares he describes, the ones that are filled with my screams.
Perspective shapes our perception, and he’s just shown me his.
“Ace!” I cry out. “Ace, where are you?”
He’s here. He has to be here. I listen to the sound of footsteps approaching behind me and freeze.
“Stéphanie...”
The whole inside of my body burns at the sound of my name on his lips. I turn and there he is, standing just beyond the glow the lanterns: black jeans and t-shirt as always, hands stuffed down in his pockets, and a strand of sandy hair falling in his eyes.
I’ve never seen anyone more breathtaking.
He hesitates, like he’s not sure if I want him to move closer, but all it takes is for me to lift a hand just an inch to beckon him, and he steps into the light, not stopping until the tips of our shoes are just a few inches apart.
“Ace...” I look down at the book in my hands. “I didn’t know. I had no idea. I’m so sorry...”
He holds up a hand to stop me. “I told you already; I wasn’t trying to earn your sympathy. I just wanted you to understand what happened that day.
The all too-familiar sensation of tears pricking my eyes starts up . Ace must notice, because he drags his thumb along the skin just under my eye as a tear leaks from the corner. I shudder at his touch.
“I thought this might happen,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to make you sad. That’s why I put all these pretty lanterns up for you.”
The slight note of mocking in his tone makes me laugh.
“Oh, is that what they’re for? Here I was, thinking you were trying to express a poetic metaphor.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. They’re just pretty.”
His hand is cupping my cheek now. We’re both smiling, even though I’m still crying.
“Although,” he continues, “if Iwastrying to express some kind of metaphor, I’d say that the moment I met you, I knew what you were. I knew you were a paper lantern. You’re soft and sweet, and you make everything around you more beautiful just by being there.”
I make a gagging noise and he shushes me with a finger on my lips.
“I’m being serious right now, pretty girl. Everything I just said is true, even if it sounds cheesy as fuck. You fuckingglow, Stéphanie, and I want you to know that. I also want you to know that you burn, and I love that part of you too. I love the way you burn in my blood like a fever. I love your ferocity, and I love your danger. I love how complex you are. I love how you can wear those pink Keds all the time and still be a fucking inferno when you want to be. I...I love everything about you.”
He looks like he surprised himself with that last line, but he doesn’t falter. He grips my hip with his free hand and his eyes blaze in the lantern light likehe’sthe one who has the ability to burn.
“Ace,” I begin, “everything we’ve been through...Our past—”
“Is our past,” he interrupts, “and I have spent too long letting it fuck up my future. I want to let it go. It’s just an echo, and when I’m with you, it’s not so loud. When I’m with you, I barely hear it. There’ll be time to talk about it. I know it’s still there, but I’m tired of giving it power over me. Aren’t you?”
I wanted to discuss it right now, wanted to sort everything out right here in the gazebo, but suddenly that doesn’t seem so important anymore. There’ll be time. He’s giving me time. He’s givingustime.
I circle my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. “I’m so tired.”
“I know.” I feel his hands tangle themselves in my hair. “I know.”
He does know. He knows better than anyone else.
“But you’re here,” Ace continues. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here, and I’m here too.”
I’m here, here under a sky of paper and fire, with the man I never want to let go of wrapped up in my arms.
Here is where I kiss him.
Here is where his mouth meets mine in a clash of yearning, hope, and forgiveness. Here is where he pulls my body even tighter into his and kisses me back until everything that’s stretching out in front of us burns bright enough to drown all the darkness we’ve left behind.
Here is where I fall in love.
