“I respect that viewpoint.” Now that Gwen was settled in on the mattress, Honey leapt over the edge to join her. “But maybe I’d appreciate it more if I was the one who built it.”
“Maybe I would too.” She smiled at me, then frowned at Honey. “Baby, you’re gonna get hair everywhere.”
“She’s fine.” I stood and gave Honey a few scratches on the head. “I come home from work every day covered in dog hair. A little more isn’t going to kill me.”
“I still feel bad. We just completely took over your space.” Petting the back of Honey’s head down to her hips, Gwen gave me those doe eyes again. “At least sit down with us?”
I’d been hoping she would say that. I just didn’t want to presume anything.
“If you insist,” I said. As I lowered myself to the silky linens, Gwen lay on her side. I joined her against the opposite pillow.
The moment we lay down, the tone shifted. That playful little smile, the banter to distract her from the chaos in her mind, was gone.
Now it was just me, Honey, Gwen, and her thoughts.
I wished I could read them. I wished I could know exactly how she felt about tonight’s turn of events. I wished she could relay every recollection and every theory she had for her friend’s death.
If for nothing else than to know she was moving through the grieving process. Depression, anger, denial, bargaining, acceptance. Just something. Anything to show me that she was processing this, and that she was going to get through it.
But she didn’t so much as utter Delilah’s name. Maybe she couldn’t yet. She whispered, “This was all she wanted, you know?”
Unsure if I understood the question, I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hmm?”
“What we have, you and me.” Her voice was still so quiet, I could barely hear it. “What we’re building here. A good relationship. One where we can count on each other, where we’re kind to each other, where we challenge each other, but we never hurt each other. We’re just good to each other.” The tears welled in her eyes again. “That’s all Delilah wanted. Just a normal, healthy relationship. She’s never going to have it now.”
The memory of that young girl at Light Up Night flashed through my mind. She was only a couple years older than Lizzie. When I looked at her, that was all I saw. A little girl. She may have legally been an adult, but the law didn’t know what it was talking about, because that was achild.
All evening, she had watched Gwen and me as we did the most basic things. Holding hands. Trading sips of hot cider for hot chocolate. Gwen dabbed some whipped cream from the corner of my mouth, and when I complained about my sore back from a long surgery earlier that day, she rubbed my neck.
Throughout it all, the look in Delilah’s eyes had reminded me of Lizzie when I’d taken her to Disneyland. At eight or nine years old, she’d been obsessed with Belle and the Beast. When she met them, it was like magic. The light in her eyes could have illuminated a city.
That evening had been a good one. I enjoyed walking through the ranch and holding hands and sipping hot chocolate and thetwo-minute massage Gwen had given me. But that was the bare minimum. It wasn’t Disneyland. We weren’t magic.
That memory burned my eyes with tears. Gwen was right. Delilah had never wanted for much, and even the simplest of desires had been ripped away from her.
All I could manage was, “No. She won’t.”
“It’s not fair,” Gwen whispered.
“No. It’s not.”
Silence snuck in. Gwen inched closer, tucking her head against my chest. I coiled an arm around her waist. Honey chuffed and grumbled before scampering to the edge of the bed.
Gwen broke the silence with the most unexpected question.
“Were you upset about David?”
My stomach sunk. “What?”
“Simone’s ex. The guy who showed up and beat the shit out of her.” She tensed under my grasp. “Did it upset you that I hadn’t told you about him?”
Oh. That’s where this was going.
“No. Why would it?”
“I don’t know. I had a session with Rhiannon earlier, and she mentioned it.” The pace of her words was slower, voice softer. “She wants me to open up more. Says it’s not good that I’m so closed off from everyone and everything. I see her points. Maybe I should talk about my feelings more. Maybe you have to give some to get some. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me, but I just… I don’t want you to think that I keep things because I don’t trust you. Or because I don’t want to be close to you or something. I do. I do want to be close to you.”
I took her hand, squeezed it tight, and kissed her knuckles. “It feels to me like I’m one of the only people you let get close.”
