“I’m fine,” I mutter, but he still doesn’t let go.
“Who did this to you?” His voice is deep and firm. The intensity in his eyes makes me stop and go slightly slack in his hand. My eyes fall to the floor, not wanting to look at the mirror he’s holding up to my past. And the judgment that comes along with it.
“Myself.” My voice is barely a whisper. I don’t even know if he heard me.
He releases my wrist and tilts my chin, forcing me to look at him. His beautiful face is full of pain and… something else.
“Don’t,” I say sharply, taking him by surprise. “I don’t need your pity.” I stand up, pushing past him as I rush for the door, looking back one last time. “I’m sure you need to getback to your girlfriend.” The words lose their intended venom. Instead, they come out wistful.
He stands and advances towards me. “Is that what you think, Kat? That you’re a pitiful inconvenience?”
I retreat a step, the intensity of his stare and words too much for me to handle.
“I don’t pity you, Kat. I admire you.”
My eyes burn as the weight of his words settles onto my chest.
“When you felt so much emotional pain that physical pain was the only relief. When you traded one pain for another… yet you still carried on.”
He’s inches away from me now. It feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“You had the strength to continue on… that’s what I admire about you,” he breathes the last word.
My head feels fuzzy; I can’t think of a single word in the English language. Tears brim at the edges of my eyes.
“Who’s Freddie?” he asks, his breath hot against my skin.
“F-Freddie?” I ask, my brain filled with both static and emptiness. The whiplash I’m getting from this conversation makes my head swirl.
He gestures towards the necklace at my throat. My gold “Freddie” necklace that has been hanging between my collarbones for the last fourteen months.
My breathing quickens, and the tears fall free. “He’s my cat. Well,wasmy cat.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, wiping the tears from my cheek. “What happened?”
“He didn’t die,” I rush out, hating the idea of that outcome entering the world. “When I… When I left my hometown, I had to leave him behind. It was what was best for him. He was twelve, and I couldn’t afford to bring him on one of those fancy pet planes, and I couldn’t bring him on the bus, that would have killed him. So I gave him to the shelter.”
The words rush out as quickly as the tears fall—faster and harder. A pain forms in my chest at the memory of my first and true best friend.
Elias pulls me close. I rest my head on his shoulder, trying to avoid soaking it with my tears. He runs a comforting hand up and down my spine.
“I still find little strands of orange fur on my clothes sometimes.” I half laugh and sniffle at the same time.
“You can get him back.”
I shake my head. “It’s safer for him there.”
I go still. The words are out before I realize what they were. Elias doesn’t stop, though. He continues running his hand up and down my spine, gripping my lower back firmly with the other.
After a few comfortable moments like that, I pull back, wiping my nose against the back of my sleeve, carefully avoiding the bandage. “I should go. Thank you for…” I hold up my injured hand with a small wave.
I turn to walk away, but his fingers close around my wrist and he tugs me back towards him, my body hitting his chest like a wall.
“Oh, and for the record?” he says, his face inching closer and closer to mine.
My heart stutters. He’s so close now, I can see the faint gold flecks in his eyes. I haven’t noticed that before. Up close, everything about him feels… bigger. His shoulders. His presence. Everything.
“Yvonne isn’t my girlfriend.”
