Page 15 of Zeppelin
She frowns. “Are you dyslexic?”
“No, just stupid.”
“Stop it.” She smacks my arm lightly, but her tough lingers like an injury. “But anyway, not being able to read isn’t an excuse anymore. There are plenty of audiobooks. They offer lots of them for free, on streaming services, or from the library. Anyone can access them.”
“Is reading a requirement?”
“For what?”
“Everything.” I don’t want to tell her that I’ve been listening to even more podcasts. “I guess I don’t like to discuss that stuff because I don’t like people talking down to me.”
She sucks air in through her teeth. “I don’t think that’s what true education is. I’m truly sorry that’s been your experience. I know of a few great books that have really helped me. I have them on audiobook because I used to listen while Idrove. I can send them to you if you want. If you don’t like them, that’s fine.”
“Are they on inner peace and shit?” I do what I do best when it comes to getting too real, too raw, too exposed. I fall back on asshole training.
She’s not the least bit bothered. I finally realize what it is about her and Jack that actually aligned. Ginny looks soft and pretty, but she’s more than farmgirl tough. She’s got a dry sense of humor and she likes being challenged.
“Some,” she admits. “But not the way you’re thinking. You might be pleasantly surprised.”
“I need to work on myself? That’s your hot take?”
Out of nowhere, she breaks me. “You’re a better man than you know, Zeppelin.” She goes from sort of joking around to straight up unfiltered sincerity. “I think the front you put on is a protection mechanism against the world. Some people have to grow a thick skin and a hard spine because life has taught them that’s the only way to survive.”
She’s right. Every stage of my life might as well have been a stage with a collection of costumes and masks. They crumble and fall away and I can’t grab the tattered pieces and shove them back into place fast enough. My gut lurches sickeningly as a wave of pain hits me hard enough to topple me to my knees. It’s more painful than I thought it would be to fall apart. I’m a thousand pounds of splintered wood and glass, my body and mind a wasteland, all of it bared to this woman to see.
It’s not pretty. Ginny’s gaping at me and it’s not until I take in her startled expression that I realize my cheeks are wet.
She’s a good woman and she’s brave. She gets over herself and gives me what I didn’t even know I needed.
She drops the water bottle and stalks forward. I turn at the last second, but that doesn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around me from behind. Her chest presses against my back. She can barely get her arms all the way around me, but when her hands clasp, they lace together firmly. I’m all trembling, sickening, aching tension. I’m vibrating, pulsing apart, muscles tearing at the seams.
“I see you, Zeppelin. You’re worthy of love. You’re worthy of giving yourself a chance.” Her chest expands with a deep, steadying inhale. “I was thinking about telling my parents about the baby this week, but maybe tonight at dinner is better. You’d be here. I’d- I’d like you to be. I didn’t realize that until right now, but I think we both need that. I’m going to tell them, and I’ll ask them about the old farmhouse I want to renovate. If my dad says I can have it and you want to be involved with renovating, you’re welcome. You’re welcome out here too… any time you’d like. I’m so sorry if I made it seem like that wasn’t the case. I’ve been so insensitive, wrapped up in my own issues,” she trails off once she runs out of breath.
“Sorry,” she whispers, resting her cheek against my shoulder blade. The hurt truckles from the wound that just tore itself open in my chest, down into my limbs, bursting in my bloodstream. “Ugh. I’m talking too much. I do that when I don’t know what else to do. Are you going to be alright?”
Her closeness is a blow in itself. Kindness can be a brand. I need to pull away. I ache to stay. I never fully knew how many scars I’ve been carrying around underneath the masks, the walls, the armor.
I close my eyes against all of it. The sun, the sting, the saltwater leaking from the corners and drying pinched on my cheeks, the clashing storm raging inside of me that I’m so powerless to quiet.
“I want to be,” I grind out before stepping away and putting the proper distance between us. I smear my hands over my face, probably creating a living dirt monster.
It hurts less once Ginny isn’t so close.
It hurts a thousand times more.
I want to be.This time, I mean it.
Chapter 5
Ginny
Ididn’t know thesecondthat I got pregnant, but I knew within two weeks. Most people say it takes at least six to feel sick, but I got the exhaustion and nausea right from the start. As soon as my period was late by a day, I justknew.
It’s wild how fast you can get used to waking up at all hours of the night with wicked acid crawling up your throat, belly spinning, head pounding, sheets soaked and twisted.
I wake up into the early gray of morning. We’re slowly creeping towards the longest day of the year, but it’s still over a month away. It gets somewhat light around five, but it’s not quite there yet. The window to the right of my bed is spattered with raindrops.
After inhaling a shuddering breath against the nausea climbing up my throat and the acid already burning there, I release my breath and take another. I slow it down and deep breathe, hoping that I’m not going to have to race to the bathroom. I focus on the drumming rain against the shingles, the sound of birdsong ushering in the sunrise that’s yet to come.
