Her falling tears feel like they’re expressing my pain for me until I feel her thumbs brush away the tears on my own cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Wendell,” she whispers.
And I just close my eyes, letting her absorb what I’m saying. Maybe hoping that she can absorb some of this pain, too. As selfish as that sounds, I’m exhausted from carrying this burden.
“I’m so sorry, Wendell.” Her arms are around me, hugging me. And that’s enough. Just her presence. I don’t need her to say anything because she’s said it before, without knowing I was the lone survivor of a tragic event. She’s told me that she’s glad I’m here and that I make the world a better place. And the fact that she said all of that to me before knowing about this event makes all the difference.
“Sorry for that,” I say into her hair.
“Don’t be sorry, Wendell. I’m just glad that you told me.” She pulls back, leaving a small space between us.
“I know what it feels like to have something happen to you that renders you helpless.” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “Completely powerless to do anything except react and move on. Somehow.” Her head down, fingers fidgeting with the seam of her pocket, her voice sounds too quiet.
And that’s when it clicks inside of my head.
“What happened with this guy and the money you owe? It’s not your fault, is it?”
She shakes her head. “Mike made some bad business decisions and felt like he had to borrow money to make it right. But it didn’t work out as he planned. And then…he was just gone.”
“So it’s not your debt to pay, is it?”
“It’s not your debt to pay either.” She’s looking at me with brokenness, not just for herself, but for me.
I don’t fully grasp the emotion behind her eyes, but I need to reassure her that I don’t care that she’s not the one who made this mess. “No, it’s not. But I’ll pay it.” I’d do anything for her.
“No.” She shakes her head again, softly, her eyes pleading. “I mean being alive. Being the lone survivor. That’s not your debt to pay.”
A long creak sounds in the vicinity of my heart. Like a rusty gate opening up. Like metal on metal.
Chapter 7
Peyton
“You tired?” I scan the dark shells under his eyes, wondering if I said too much.
He exhales hard and lets his eyes flutter shut. When he opens them a moment later, a light chuckle escapes his lips. “Just a bit.” I can practically feel the drain of emotions that conversation loosed.
Even still, he stands and rubs his hands down his thighs before extending his palm to me. “Time for bed?”
It feels like an invitation. To his bed.
“We don’t have to do anything—”
“No. Ya.” I stand shaking my head and taking his hand. “Actually, I’d like to spend our first night together. Even if we don’t do anything.” I rush to say.
His half smile tugs on my heart the whole way to his room. As we get ready for bed, I have no idea what to expect, but it just feels so natural to share his space.
To avoid wearing anything suggestive, I decide on a loose T-shirt and small shorts, but then he sneaks under the covers similarly outfitted.
“You do not wear that much clothing to bed, Wendell.” I give him an unimpressed look.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay. We’re both adults.”
“You sure?”
“Ya—”
