Page 95 of This I Know
She laughs. “Okay. Are you going to tell me the entire thing in riddles?” She moves closer to me, probably in an attempt to coerce it out of me. She won’t be that close when she understands.
I set my hand near her on the couch, then I open it wide so she can get a good look.
“This looks familiar,” I say, “doesn’t it?”
She looks down at my hand. She looks back at me. Her brows furrow as if I just asked her the hardest question in the world. “What do you mean?” she says.
“I’ve seen you recoil from my hand as though you recognize it.” I hold it higher. “What does it bring to mind?” I give her a minute. “Anything?”
She shakes her head. “Ethan–”
“Justthink,Avery. Please. I don’t want to have to spell it out for you, but I will because you need to hear this.”
She tosses the blanket off. “Nothing, okay? It brings nothing to mind.” Her eyes well up. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”
“This hand,” I say, holding it closer still, “is my father’s.”
She eyes me like I’ve just committed a murder. “Ethan, you’re scaring me.”
I drop my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to scare you. I know you’ve had enough of being scared to fill twenty lifetimes.”
I reach out to her, but she pulls away.
The retreat … it’s beginning.
“And how would you know that, exactly? You act like you know everything about me.” She tips her chin down, her watery eyes narrowing in my direction. “Why?”
“That’s part of what I’m trying to tell you.”
She stands, unable to take the tension passing between us, as though she needs to walk some of it off and get away from me at the same time. “Then tell me already.”
I look into her eyes, as deep as I dare, and I decide to give her all of me – even more than I already have. Breathing in deeply, I let the words flow with my outward breath. “It was my father who attacked you that night.”
Her face drops. She slumps back down on the couch. Her anger is gone, washed away by a wave of some kind of emotion. I just hope it’s not theI want to kill you like your father tried to kill mekind. But I know her better than that, which is why it doesn’t surprise me to see that the look in her eyes is still one of pure sadness. I swear I see a single tear fall down her cheek in a straight stream before she wipes it away. As she completes her reaction to my words, the words I never thought I’d have the courage to utter to her, the world suddenly moves in slow motion, and myself along with it.
She lifts her chin and looks straight ahead. Her nostrils flare. “Get out of here, Ethan.”
I shudder. I can tell it hurts her to say my name. Her eyes well up even more when she hits that word –Ethan.And after it escapes her mouth she turns even further away, as though my presence hurt her, too, and she’s trying to hold it together.
I take her chin with my thumb and my forefingers and tilt it toward me. I won’t let her do this. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through, what I just did for us, and after how much I love every single thing about her in a way I’ve never loved anyone before.
I’m not about to let that all go.
“Now!” Her face contorts and I know she’s about to cry.
I look into her eyes, as deep as I dare, and I decide to give her all of me – even more than I already have. Whatever else she wants to know, I’ll tell her. “Let me explain–”
She meets my eyes once but then pulls away. “You’ve explained yourself enough.” She gets up. To leave, I’m sure.
My heart feels like it’s been stabbed … and then gouged out, burned, and stomped on. “Avery. Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
I knew it. She can’t bear to say my name. That should have been aDon’t what, Ethan?I’ll be surprised if I ever hear her say my name again, and I can’t say I blame her.
I hesitate.
She glares me down with the same piercing intensity that just stabbed me in the heart.
