Page 58 of Unspoken Words
“Don’t,” I said, holding up my hand. “You walked out on me that day, and it wasn’t the first time. You can’t keep walking away when things get tough, Connor. And you can’t leave me and go to another girl. That hurt. A lot. Especially after we—”
“Hey!” He shot up like a rocket and dropped to his knees before me, placing his hands on my hips. “I would never leave you for another girl. It wasn’t like that.”
“You left me for four weeks!”
“And you leftmefor four weeks.”
“You didn’t write me a note.”
His head drooped. “I was angry. You hurt me, too, whether you thought you were doing the right thing or not. I’m not broken, Ellie. Stop trying to fix me.”
I stepped back, shocked at what he’d said. “I’m … I’m not trying to fixyou.”
“Yeah, you are. This—” he said, gesturing to himself “—this is me. This is what you get. I can’t always say what I feel but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the things I want to say. I’m not perfect, and I know I keep parts of me caged, but maybe I like them caged. Maybe it helps me feel in control.”
Walking to my window, I gazed out at the yard and tried to process what he’d just said. Leaves swirled in the wind and settled on the ground only to be gathered once again and thrown into another chaotic twist. I felt as if I was one of those leaves: constantly spinning, dizzy and disorientated.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I said, fingering the book charm he’d bought me on my thirteenth birthday. It was dangling from the end of my necklace, always close to my heart.
“I’ve missed you too.”
“It’s actually frightening how much I’ve missed you.”
“Frightening?”
“Yeah, it’s not natural.”
He was silent behind me, so I continued. “It’s not natural to love this much.”
“No, it’s not,” he said on a sigh. “But it’s rare, and special.”
“It’s also not good.” I turned to face him. “Connor, we’ve been joined at the hip since we were twelve years old. That can’t be healthy.”
“Why can’t it be healthy?”
“Because it all hurts too much.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that maybe we’ve spent too much time together, that we’ve relied on each other too heavily. Become too attached.” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“Look at me, Ellie.”
I glanced up but barely had the strength to meet his eyes.
“Where is all this coming from?”
“I don’t know.” I threw my hands in the air and rested them on my head. “Maybe I’ve had time to think during these past few weeks.”
He got up from his knees and paced my room. “Right. So in my absence, you’ve come to the conclusion that we spend too much time together?”
I glared at him. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“THEN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?” he shouted.
“I’M SAYING I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH AND IT HURTS. It hurts because I can’t breathe when I’m with you and I can’t breathe when I’m without you. I’m saying this final year of school is vital for both of us and fighting like we do isn’t healthy. It’s disruptive, which is why I think we need a break.”
“A break? We’ve just had a break.”
