Page 63 of I Hear You

Ender places a hand on the small of my back and whispers in my ear.

“Go out front, call an Uber. Please.”

There’s a forcefulness in his tone, but when he saysplease,I hear desperation. I’m sick of looking at my mother, so I do what he asks and walk away from them without another word. As I’m turning the corner, I can hear their conversation still and stop, just out of their sight.

“You’re not going to contact Madison anymore. She is not going to give you money. You will not reach out to her unless you’ve been clean for a year,” Ender says.

His voice is low, but even. His anger controlled. It's almost as if he’s simply reporting the weather or something.

“And who the hell do you think you are?” my mother snaps back at him.

“I’m the guy who loves your daughter. Who's been in love with her for years. Who almost lost her because of you. Because you broke her heart so damn badly she didn’t think she deserved my love. And I’m the guy who's going to help her heal now–now that she knows the truth about her dad.”

I hear my mom gasp. I don’t even have time to process what Ender said because I hear his footsteps coming toward me. I quickly hurry out to the curb and open the Uber app. While I wait for him to catch up, I replay what he said. He said he loved me. Deep down I know he does, he told me so in his email. To hear him say the words–to really hear them and not just read them. I think it pushed me a little closer to healing. I know I’ll have to talk to my mother about everything, eventually. About her problems. About her not being there for me. About her lying to me. Now is not the right time, though. Ender’s right, she needs to get help and clean, or we’ll never really be able to fix anything.

Ender turns the corner as I finish ordering the Uber.

“Let’s go home,” he says and presses his lips to mine.

I deepen the kiss, greedy for more.

We make it back to the small private airport and have gotten buckled into our seats. As soon as I stepped into this sardine death trap some people refer to as an airplane–I wanted to turn around, get off and drive all the way to Easton. It would take me the better part of a week to do so, and that’s without ever stopping, but it’s still a tempting alternative.

The plane begins slowly moving and I reach for Ender's hand, gripping it tightly. I think I hear him wince a little, but I don't care. My fear is too overwhelming.

“Talk to me,” I say, not looking at him, looking straight ahead.

“What do you want me to talk to you about?”

“Anything–how did you know?”

“Know what?”

He’s running his fingers up and down my arm, sending little bursts of shivers down my rigid spine.

“I stopped responding to your email because I was scared.”

I’ve now basically admitted to eavesdropping, but I don’t think he’ll mind and I don’t want to keep any secrets from him ever again.

He sighs, then chuckles before answering me.

“I didn’t know for sure. I was guessing and throwing out what came to mind. I guess I know for sure now, but honestly, I still don’t knowwhyyou were so scared.”

I shouldn’t be surprised. Ender knows me better than anyone—of course, he knows me better than I know myself. Maybe it’s why he didn’t give up in his emails so easily. Maybe he even knew, deep down–if he told me right away who he was I would have run. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it yet.

“My life was a mess, Ender. My mom had started using drugs and bringing home one loser boyfriend after the other. It got so bad I was staying with friends when I could. When it was awful and I couldn’t find a place to stay I even spent a few nights sleeping on the streets,” I tell him.

Ender’s eyes widen and are blazing with anger. I knew he wouldn’t like hearing that.

“I was ashamed,” I tell him. “I was ashamed of the situation I was in and I was afraid that if you really knew what was going on in my life–you’d think twice about what you’d written.”

“Oh Mads, you know now where my life was when I wrote that email. I would have never judged you for your mother’s choices. If anything, now I wish more you would have told me what was going on. I would have–could have helped.”

“I know that now. I’m sorry,” I say, hanging my head.

Ender tucks a finger under my chin and tilts my head up so we’re looking each other in the eyes. He leans forward and kisses me once, softly.

“Is that all you overheard?” he asks, searching my eyes.

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