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“I don’t think I can get up,” she says sleepily as I clean her.
Mission accomplished.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sally
It took me years to feel comfortable looking in a mirror. People don’t talk about the start of the transition process—the time between the start and the finish we crave but might never get.
I’d wince with every glance at myself. My hair, my shoulders, my cheeks, my jawline. Every aspect of my body…I hated looking at it all.
That changed over time. I don’t think that’s the right way to describe it. Maybe instead of changing, it’s better to say I learned to look past it.
Now, that hatred is back as I stare at myself in the mirror. Not because I hate the way I look—this is the best I’ve felt physically in years—but because I crossed a line last night.
I should hate myself.
I should regret what happened. I crossed a line last night when Oliver and I slept together. He doesn’t know who I am, and even with the hope that he wouldn’t care, I know it wasn’t right.
Feeling defeated, I run my hands through the tangles of hair, getting caught in the process.
Oliver’s body lies still under the sheet. He looked so happy yesterday.
I should hate what happened, but I can’t hate the way his eyes shone with so much love and affection. The line we crossed might have been wrong, but in the moment, it felt so right.
Oliver has always been my hero, and even in that moment, he took the hurt I’d experienced in the past and kissed away the pain.
Feeling overwhelmed, I walk out of the room and to my safe space, away from the world.
The one place I feel above everything.
The night air isn’t warm or cool. It’s a little humid with the sound of nature surrounding me. The view from the roof is still as pretty as I remember especially with the moon illuminating the world around me.
“Sally.” My head snaps to see Oliver staring at me. It’s too dark to see the emotion in his eyes, but there’s a frown adorning his perfect face. “You left.”
“I…” my voice trails off without a single thought to finish the sentence. “I needed some air.”
“I didn’t like it.” His voice is soft, but the hurt is evident. My blood chills from the tone. “I don’t like waking up without you next to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper because I don’t want him to hear the break in my voice. Not being able to look at him, I turn around to look at the night sky. “I’ll be inside soon.”
Oliver makes his way next to me before sitting down. “I’ll wait with you. I don’t like the idea of you being alone out here.”
God, why is he so fucking perfect? Too perfect for a screwed-up girl like me.
“How did you know I’d be up here?” The question comes out of nowhere.
“Of course, I knew you’d be here.” His voice is still serious.
That isn’t the answer I was expecting, but it’s the one I need. He’s watched me and understood me to a level no one ever has.
Tears well in my eyes.
Oliver’s expression softens the minute a hot streak rolls down my face.
“Fudge, babe, please don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.” He scoots closer to me, taking my face in his hands, and thumbs away the tears. “Every time you cry, it breaks my heart and makes me want to punch someone. I guess I’ll have to punch myself this time.”
That gets a soft laugh from me. “Please don’t punch yourself. I like your face.”
