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She squeezed her eyes closed. “Spence, stop,” she weeped.
“I don’t think it’s a bad life, the life you’ve chosen, not by any means, but I do think you should give yourself a try.”
She shook her head no.
“I think you could have a hell of a time finding out what you really want, that you’d discover some pretty incredible things about yourself. You said yourself you didn’t really want to be here. I don’t think you meant that you wanted to leave forever, but I do think you wanted to explore while you’re young.”
She sobbed a bit but shook her head more emphatically.
“Cricket, your family wouldn’t die if you took off for a little while.”
She sobbed harder. “You don’t understand.”
“Help me to, then.”
She sucked in a breath then exhaled. “You can’t fathom the unimaginable sacrifice they’ve all made for me, Spencer.”
“Because they took care of you? Cricket, they did that because they wanted to.”
“No,” she said, grieving something terrible, “it’s more complicated than that.”
“Then tell me, Cricket.”
She broke down. “I don’t wish to burden anyone else anymore. I’m so tired of being a hardship.”
“Cricket,” I said, grasping her hands, “whatever it is that you speak of, it’s not. I can promise you that it’s not a burden to those who love you. Trust me.”
She was crying so hard, she couldn’t answer, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I pulled her across the capes and held her while she lamented and that was exactly what she was doing, she was mourning. What, I didn’t know.
I pulled out Bridge’s new down comforter from the bag and tossed it over the both of us as it was starting to get cold and I let her cry, I let her unburden herself of all the heavy sacrifice she decided to walk around with for her family and I suffered to carry it for her instead.
Ethan may have felt as if he was in love with Cricket, but I thought he was more in love with the idea of what they were. Anyone truly and genuinely interested in her would have seen this side of her. This sad, taxed soul.
“Cricket,” I spoke into her hair as her breathing steadied into my chest, but she didn’t answer, worn out from a heavy life she didn’t want to speak of.
Her cell rang from underneath the blanket, but I couldn’t find it in plain sight. I ran my hand along her hip and felt the vibration. I nearly laughed at the temptation. I carefully wedged it from her back pocket and brought it to my face.
“Hello?” I whispered.
“Where’s Cricket?” Ethan asked.
“She fell asleep,” I bit.
“Where?” he asked, suspicious.
I sighed audibly. “Ethan, I made her a pallet on the stage floor. She’s resting comfortably.”
“Why are you whispering? Are you-are you laying next to her?”
“No,” I lied, “sound travels in this place. I’d rather not wake her. She seemed really tired.”
“Fine,” he conceded, exasperating me.
“You know, you should trust her,” I told him honestly, unable to help myself.
“I do trust her. It’s you I don’t trust.”
“Do you?” I asked, becoming aware that he truly didn’t. “I don’t think that you do. I don’t mean that you can’t trust her, but I think you’re frightened she’ll discover what you’ve known all along.”
