Page 122 of The Otherworld

We’ve barely spoken since the night she first arrived, and our conversation in the driveway hasn’t stopped replaying in my mind. Every time I close my eyes, I see her angry tears quivering in the moonlight. I hear her voice caught between confusion and heartbreak.

Jack understands me. He’s the only one who truly cares about what I want.

To Orca, love is simple—a be-all, end-all that conquers every obstacle. She’s too young and inexperienced to understand just how messy and complicated love really is.

I tried to tell her that the night she arrived. But no matter what I said, I couldn’t make her see.

This morning she’s wearing a blue linen jumpsuit, drinking coffee with Mom at the kitchen table. We say nothing beyond “Good morning” and “Did you sleep well?” And god, I have never hated small talk more than I do right now. A thousand unspoken words smolder in Orca’s eyes, and I wonder if she can see that I’m battling back a thousand words too.

“Adam, I need a few things from the grocery store, if you don’t mind,” Mom says, finishing her list and sliding it over to me.

“Sure, no problem.” I down the rest of my coffee and rise from the table.

“Why don’t you take Orca? I’m sure she would like to go with you.”

I hesitate, my gaze sliding to Orca, who watches me with an expectant glint in her eyes.

“Do you want to come with me?”

She nods. “Yes… of course.”

Mom passes me a little knowing smile. “Well, go on, then. I’m sure Jack won’t be awake for another hour, at least.”

On the drive to the grocery store, Orca remains silent in the passenger seat, staring out at the raindrops sliding down the window. For the first time since we met, there seems to be a wall between us. Something holding her back. Something holding me back. And with every passing moment of silence, the pressure builds—like floodwaters rising against a dam.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “So, did you have a good time with Jack last night?”

Orca looks down, twisting the seatbelt around her finger. “Yes. I did. He took me to town and showed me lots of new things; then we went to see the fireworks. They were so beautiful and otherworldly; I’d never seen anything like it before.” She pauses to glance over at me, watching for my reaction. “Jack is so fun and sweet and understanding. He seems to want nothing more than to make me happy.”

I swallow, my fingers tensing around the steering wheel. “Well, good. I’m glad. You should enjoy your time with him. You two seem to have a lot in common.”

Orca falls silent. I tap on the directional and turn into the grocery store parking lot, searching for an empty spot close to the entrance. The rain is falling harder now, making people run for their cars, umbrellas up.

“I would rather it was you.”

I park my truck, turning to face Orca.

“Jack is wonderful,” she says softly. “But the whole time I was with him, I was wishing you were the one showing me the Otherworld.”

God, if only she knew how much I wish the same thing.

I kill the engine and stare out the windshield for a long moment because I have no idea what to say.

“What did I do wrong?” Orca asks, her voice hesitant. “What did I do to make you stop loving me?”

Those words couldn’t hit me harder if they were a punch in the face.

“I haven’t stopped loving you, Orca. I spend every day, every night, thinking about you—wanting you. But the truth is, we hardly know each other. We only spent a few days together, and yes, they were incredible. But how do you know we’ll feel the same way five years from now? Ten years from now?”

“I’ll feel the same way. I know I will.”

I press my eyes shut, shaking my head.

“Do you doubt me?”

“Not your intent. But you’re too young to know what you truly want—”

“Stop saying that,” Orca cuts in, her eyes glossy with tears. “I may be young, Adam, but I’m not a child. I’m not some foolish girl, infatuated with one thing today and another tomorrow. My feelings for you are real. They’re not going to fade, no matter how much you push me away. You’re the only man I could ever want—”

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