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“I–I don’t know what to say,” I admit on an anguished breath.
Brant stands a few feet away, looking tortured beyond belief. His complexion is bloodless, his stance defeated. I want to hug him again, but I’m afraid I won’t ever let go. “There’s nothing left to say, Junebug. This is the way it needs to be, and anything else is just going to sound like…stay.” His voice cracks horribly, but he regroups. “And that’s the last thing you need to hear.”
That’s the only thing I want to hear, my mind screams.
He inhales a shuddering breath and glances up at me with eyes like those of a wounded soldier. “I stayed away because I’m completely defenseless when I’m around you, June. Logic flies out the window, and all I want to do is whisper pretty lies into your ear, telling you we’re going to be okay. I can’t be around you without touching you, and I can’t touch you without wanting to keep you.”
Touch me.
Keep me.
Never let me go, Brant.
My brain is a traitorous beast. I run shaky fingers through my hair and squeeze my fists. “This feels wrong. It feels awful.”
“It only feels wrong because I’m standing right in front of you, trying so damn hard not to break,” he murmurs. “When you’re on that plane and your head is clear, you’ll know it’s right.”
He’s right.
I need to go.
It’s for the best.
But I still can’t bring my feet to move.
“Go,” he chokes out. Brant spins away from me, linking his hands behind his head, as if it’s far too painful to watch me walk away. The muscles in his back ripple with agony. “Please.”
My head bobs as my tears continue to spill out of me, trailed by more heart-wrenching whimpers. Turning quickly, I place a hand over my mouth, and my long shirtsleeve dampens with sorrow. I trudge over to the discarded bags, bending over to grasp the handle of one.
With one hand still holding in my cry, I use the other to drag a bag as I move backward. It scrapes along the floor, mimicking the sound of my shredding heart.
That’s when I feel him.
That’s when he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I’m trying to be strong because I know this is what’s best for you,” he confesses, his voice cracking on every word. “But I’m not built for this, June. I’m not built for a life without you.”
My stifled sob falls out, and I spin around in his arms, collapsing against his chest. He holds me so tight, crying right along with me as we shake and mourn and grieve.
“You’ve always been here,” he says through gritted teeth, cradling the back of my head. “It’s always been you and me, and I’m going to be so fucking lost without your hugs and the sound of your voice and your sweet smiles.” He squeezes me in his steadfast arms. “But I’ve been selfish for too long. I need to let you fly.”
“Come with me,” I weep into his T-shirt. “Fly with me.”
“I can’t, Junebug. You know I can’t.” Brant twines his fingers through my loose hair, kissing the top of my head as he shudders against me. “You need this. You’ve lived your whole life in my shadow, and it’s time for you to find your place in the world.”
He’s right.
I hate it, but he’s right.
We’ve grown codependent. We’re addicted to each other. And until I learn how to live without him, I’ll never be able to live with him in a healthy way.
Sniffling, I murmur, “What if my place is with you?”
“Then I’m here. I’ll be waiting.”
A gasp leaves me as I press my cheek to his chest. “You mean it?”
“Of course I mean it.”
I can’t stop crying. Even though I know in my heart that I need to do this, it’s the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I want to prove to my parents that this isn’t a temporary lapse in sanity, or a dirty little consequence of our tight-knit bond, and I can only do that through time and space.
