The corners of Eli’s mouth turned up ever so slightly.
“You were the first person I told the truth to. That I wanted to kill Don. There was a reason for that. I trust you, Eli. You see me for what I am.”
He started to walk around the bed.
“I was happy in the past, I was. And it’s nice to think that the future will be better. But this right now? This is me. I’m so tired of hating myself every day. There’s nothing wrong with me. I don’t need therapy. And I don’t need to talk. I just need to learn how to be happy again. I need someone to remind me that I’m not as broken as I feel. Because I’m standing right here breathing. I think I pushed you away because I didn’t want to accept all that I had lost. But I never meant to lose you in the process. I miss you, Eli. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only person I don’t hate at all.”
He stopped right in front of me. “You never lost me. I was trying to give you space and hoping you’d forgive me.”
“For what?”
“For not knowing that Don hurt you.”
I looked at the pain on his face. The small lines on the outside of his eyes. The sadness in his eyes.
“I did my best every day to hide it,” I said. “How could you have known?”
He shook his head. “It kills me, knowing that I missed the signs.”
That was the other thing I loved about him. He actually felt bad for hurting me. I wasn’t sure there was a better quality, besides for not hurting someone in the first place. And from my experience, that wasn’t possible. “I forgive you.”
The lines around his eyes faded and it seemed as though he exhaled the pain.
It was the most glorious thing I had ever seen. It was better than some dumb constellation in the sky. It was real and tangible and wonderfully had nothing to do with Miles. “I don’t want to face any of this alone anymore.”
“It’s about time you realized that you don’t have to.”
I smiled. And when I exhaled, it felt like I let go of some of my pain too.
The awkwardness settled around us again.
“I like your glasses,” I said.
At the exact same time, Eli said, “I’m glad you came.”
Our words collided together and we both laughed.
Eli touched the side of his glasses. “I guess I should wear them more often then.”
I nodded. “It’s very Clark Kent of you.”
“Except I’m not the superhero who lives here.”
I sat down on the edge of his bed. “I’ve wished for a lot of things in my life. But I never wished for one of those. I've always preferred a knight in shining armor.”
Eli didn’t move forward, he stayed exactly where he was. “Summer Brooks, you are not some tortured girl that needs to be saved.”
I pressed my lips together. Four months ago when I thought I was going to die, I had told him that I didn’t want him to save me and that I didn’t need saving. Had my words haunted him like so much haunted me?
“I’m not asking you to save me, Eli. I’m asking you to take me as I am.” I realized I was holding my breath. For one second.
His eyes locked with mine.
For two seconds. He stepped forward.
For three seconds. He put his hand on the side of my face.
For four seconds. The silence settled around us.
For five seconds. I leaned into his touch. For the first time, it didn’t feel like he was making my skin burn. Or maybe I had just lost the fire in me.
Chapter 7
Monday
For the first morning in months, I woke up with a smile on my face. I was surrounded by the smell of citrus and sunshine. It was one of my favorite smells in the world. Just from his intoxicating scent, I would have known I was near Eli even if his arms hadn’t been wrapped around me. I slowly opened my eyes and found Eli staring at me.
“God you’re beautiful,” he said.
“Were you watching me sleep?” I tried to block my face from his view.
He pulled my hand away and placed a gentle kiss against my lips.
I laughed and squirmed away from him. “Don’t kiss me, I have morning breath.”
He caught me around the waist and pulled me back against his chest. “Try to stop me.” His lips met mine again and I didn’t resist him at all. I'd asked him to take me as I was. He seemed more than ready to do just that.
“You know what we need?” I asked as I smiled up at him.
“To stay in here all day?”
I laughed. “Yes. But we also need hot chocolate. What is a snow day without hot chocolate?” I managed to escape his grasp and climbed out of bed. God, it felt good to smile and laugh. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I would have said I felt like a kid again, but I didn’t. I felt better. I was me, and for the first time, I was actually okay with that.
“How do you know it’s snowing?” He pushed the covers back and yawned. “You haven’t even looked outside.”
“Can’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“That tingly feeling in your bones? The quietness of the city like it’s wrapped up in a blanket? The buzz of excitement in the air?”
He laughed. “Oh those things. Normally I’d just look outside or at the weather forecast…”
I opened up the curtains and gestured without bothering to look. I knew it was snowing. I didn’t need a weatherman or eyes to know it.
“Huh. You really could feel it.”
I smiled and turned to look out the window. The snow danced in the wind. And it didn’t bring back painful memories. It just made me happy. Today was about making new memories. I turned back to Eli. “So about that hot chocolate.” I raised my left eyebrow.
“Two hot chocolates coming right up.” He got out of bed and stretched.
“On second thought…” I left the window and jumped back onto the bed. “Maybe the hot chocolate could wait a minute.” I gave him what I hoped was a seductive smile.
“A minute?” He shook his head. “I’m going to need much longer than a minute.”
I laughed as he climbed back in bed with me.
***
“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” I asked as I sat down at the kitchen counter.
“I know my way around a cup of hot chocolate.” He grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard.
“Is that so?”
“There’s a few secret ingredients that make my hot chocolate the best in the world.”
I laughed. “Aren’t you cocky today?”
“You’ll see for yourself in just a few minutes.” He twisted off the cap on the milk carton and started to pour milk into one of the mugs.
“What are you doing?”
He ignored me.
I slid off my stool. “You can’t do it that way,” I said and pushed the mug away from him before he could pour any more of the milk.
“What do you mean?” He slid the mug back into place.
I grabbed the milk carton away from him. “What on earth are you thinking? You can’t make hot chocolate in the microwave, you lunatic.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s best on the stove,” V said from behind us.