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I’d watched her look for me. She was easy to hide from.
“Are you doing all right?”
It had been a month since the crash, and she still hadn’t posted. And then there were her eyes that were still so fucking haunted. I knew the answer; I didn’t need her to say a word.
She shrugged, leaving her shoulders high for a few seconds before dropping them. She then took a breath, looking away when she shook her head. “No.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered when her stare returned, the rawness fucking killing me. If anyone understood that feeling … it was me. “Are you getting help? Talking to someone?”
She couldn’t do this alone. She needed support, but that person just couldn’t be me.
She nodded. “Every other day. It helps.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Reliving the parts I remember, it’s awful.”
“I know.”
There was silence—not in the hallway, but between us.
And then, “Jared …”
I hadn’t forgotten the way it sounded when she said my name. I’d just forgotten how much I liked it.
“I have so much I want to say, things I didn’t get the chance to say at the hospital.”
“You’ve already thanked me, Billie.”
She shook her head. “This goes beyond thanking.”
She had begun to process what had happened. I knew the stages, how therapy worked. I’d stood in the corner during my clients’ sessions.
I just wanted her focusing on her—not us.
“Listen to me …” When my gaze narrowed, hers weakened even more. “Once you return to your life and your job and you stay busy, this will all get better.”
She pulled her hair to her right shoulder, exposing her left. On the top was the faintest outline of a bruise. It was where she had slammed into the side of the plane when the wheels touched the ground.
My hands clenched as I shook my head and said, “Trust me, Billie. I know what I’m talking about.”
Her eyes weren’t filling with tears, but they might as well have been.
I just wanted to wrap her in my fucking arms and comfort her and …
What the hell was I thinking?
I never should have come to this event.
I never should have met her in the hallway.
What she needed … I wasn’t that guy.
“I’m trying,” she replied. “I really, really am.”
A group of people were walking toward us, and I wanted to move her out of the way. I signaled, so she was aware, and then I put my hand on her lower back and brought her over to the wall.
She leaned her shoulder against it and turned to me.
“What do you need, Billie?” I asked when I searched her eyes and couldn’t see the answer.
“A hug.”
I know better, goddamn it.
My fingers clenched again, teeth grinding together.
Touching was what I wanted … and the worst thing for the both of us.
I took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts away, and I reached forward. She fell into me as though she were tired of standing and couldn’t do it for another second.
She didn’t need to with my arms around her.
I would take all of her weight.
And I did as her hands clung to my back, and her cheek pressed against my chest. I felt everything that was inside of that girl—her pain and sorrow. I wanted to take it away, hold it for her so she could return to her life. And that was what I tried to do when I put my face in her neck, clutching her with all of my strength.
We stayed like that.
For minutes.
Until I heard, “Jared, my whole family is here, and I want you to meet them.”
I’d warned myself before I hugged her.
Now, it was time to listen.
I straightened my back, lifting my face out of her neck, and my arms loosened. I waited until she felt stable enough before I took a few steps back and said, “My driver’s outside. I have a flight to catch.”
Her brows furrowed, her stare bouncing from my right eye to my left. “You’re not staying? You’re … flying tonight?”
I put my hand on her other shoulder, the unmarked one, the same place I’d held during the crash, and I tried not to let the look on her face affect me. Because if I took in the pain in her eyes, I’d never fucking leave her. “Remember, Billie … go back to your life. I promise, it’ll help.”
