Page 33 of Light Up The Night
"Cadence?" His voice is low and quiet, the calming, soothing, patient tone he used when I was turtling on his floor.
Something truly extraordinary happens, then.
"Hey, so…I'm gonna hug you." I hear him, but I cannot formulate a response.
Do not.
That is my response.
Touching me when I am functionally frozen like this is typically problematic. I have been known to melt down becauseof it. I have gotten better about managing myself, and I have not had a real meltdown in a long time. But so much has happened since yesterday that I simply do not know how to cope with—the walk to the Crenshaws, losing their support, the walk back, crying, meeting Riley, being attracted to him even though I know it is a hopeless case for me, forgetting my beloved rucksack and having to interact with Mr. Crenshaw again, the alarm situation, and now all of this? My social faux pas was the last straw.
Therefore, when Riley announces his intent to embrace me, I expect it to cause a full meltdown.
That is not what happens.
His arms circle me gently, and then he pulls me against his chest. I am as stiff as a board, arms at my sides.
Instead of the paralytic agony of sensory overload, I feel…
Comfort.
This is nearly as overwhelming.
It should not be. Yet, it is.
He smells divine—pine, cedar, soap, clean laundry. The fabric of his T-shirt is soft against my cheek, and I hear his heart beating under my ear. His arms encircle me, but rather than imprisoning me, they shelter me, they anchor me to the earth when the maelstrom within threatens to carry me away.
I cannot measure the time it takes for me to calm enough to emerge from the functional freeze, but past examples have lasted upward of ten minutes. Riley merely holds me through it.
He asks no questions.
Demands no answers.
He does not shift in discomfort or boredom.
He is a steadying, calming presence.
Warm.
Patient.
Kind.
When I am finally able to function again, I look up into his eyes for as long as I can, still in the shelter of his embrace. "I believe I owe you an explanation."
"Don't owe me a goddamn thing, Cadence." He is serious, but despite the aggression of his cursing, he does not appear to be angry.
"Surely you must be wondering what is wrong with me," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Nope."
I frown up at him. "How can that be? You obviously do not understand the way I function. I find it impossible to believe that you have not once wondered what is wrong with me."
"I'm curious about you. It's true, I don't always understand…well, a lotta shit. The things you say, the way you talk, why you're so literal about things, and why you don't pick up on certain things. But I've never once thought there's anythingwrongwith you." His eyes, so pale, so blue, so intense, so hypnotic, search my face. "Because there ain’t. There’s not a single goddamn thing wrong with you."
Tears spring into my eyes, and I hide them by burying my face in his shirt again.
He tucks his finger under my chin and lifts my face, passing a thumb under my eyes, one and then the other. "Hey, what's this?"
