Page 90 of The Sound Of Silence

Following her line of sight, I take in the view, and I agree… The sunrise really is beautiful to watch from down here, but the lookout…

Another guilt pit forms in my stomach, but I ignore it, and when I glance her way, I’m drawn to the beauty beside me. Looking at Willow is like looking at the sun. The light she projects, after all she’s been through, blinds me, making it impossible to see things clearly. And yet, no matter how many times I wish it was different, I couldn’t stop looking if I tried. Even though it’s bad for me. Bad for her.

We watch the sun rising in peaceful silence, until it disappears behind a cloud. Willow shakes her head with a smile and turns my way. When her eyes lock on mine, a little part of me wants to sayfuck it.But it’s that little part that presents a stronger argument for leaving.

After shaking her head, she turns back to the sunrise and takes a deep breath, uttering the words I never wanted to hear come out of her mouth.

“Twelve years ago, I was in an accident.” She pauses and my heart stops. Can I really sit here and listen to her talk about this without saying a word? God, I’ve got to try.

“My friend Jade died, while I ended up in a coma. And that’s all I know. Something life-changing happened to me. It changed the trajectory of my future, it changed my personality, and I don’t fucking remember it.”

From what I’ve noticed since I arrived, I think that personality is coming back. Not that I tell her that. Instead, I let her continue. Despite how hard it is to listen to her open up and bare her soul when I can’t tell her I already know.

“I lost my best friend—the closest person in the world to me—I lost my memory, and I lost my soul that day, and so I come here, hoping one day something will click, and I’ll find myself again.”

She shakes her head and huffs out a laugh. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this. I never talk about it anymore.”

I know it’s my turn to speak but I have no idea what to say. “I’m sorry—”

“Ready to go home?” she asks, cutting me off as she stands to her feet and dusts her hands over her ass.

It takes me a second to process the change in direction, before I jump up beside her. “Willow—”

“Nope. Just like you, I don’t need pity. I get enough of that around here. So, are you good?”

No! I’m not fucking good. Seeing you hurting is breaking me. I fucking hate this.“Yep, I’m good.”

We slowly jog back, and when we arrive at Willow’s, she heads straight to her bedroom with a quick “thanks” over her shoulder. I’m not sure what she’s thanking me for, but the second her door shuts, I practically fall onto the nearest chair, as though all the tension just left my body. And maybe it did. Because every second with Willow has me wound up. Especially after her confession.

Listening to her speak about the incident with such resignation, when I could easily fill in the missing pieces, is hell. But I deserve all the pain I’m feeling.

Willow can’t know the truth. But not telling her is agony.

Despite the fact that I just went for a run, I only stay around long enough to have a glass of water, then I’m out the door again for another workout, needing to burn off more unwanted energy. I’m halfway through my leg routine when Pippa walks into the gym, looking extremely worse for wear.

I can’t tell if she’s seen me or not because of the dark sunglasses she’s wearing—inside—but when she raises a single finger in acknowledgment, a small laugh escapes me.

“I knew I’d find you here,” she says as she plops down onto the bench beside the mats I’m on.

“There aren’t many places I can hide in this town,” I grunt out as I continue my reps.

“Very true. And yet, I feel you’re constantly hiding.”Wow.And here I was thinking she was avoiding me.

“Hiding in plain sight?” I say, brushing it off.

Pippa’s silent for a second, and I have no idea what she thinks of my response because her face doesn’t change. She’s always most expressive with her eyes.

When she still hasn’t said a word, I change the subject.

“What happened last night?” I ask, watching as Pippa cringes before huffing out a breath.

“I’d rather forget about it. No need to hash it out.”

“Fair enough.”

“I can remember parts of it,” she says, lifting her phone in the air before filling me in, even though she just said she wouldn’t. “I know why I started drinking. But as for the rest… I’m going to assume I’ve purposely blocked it from my mind because—” She freezes midsentence and her face drops. “Not that anyone can actually do that, right?” she asks after a moment. “You can’t just delete something from your memory by choice. Can you?”

What the fuck?

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