Page 71 of Whispered Promises

TWENTY-NINE

NATE

My lungs burn, and I release the breath I’d unconsciously been holding in a loud exhale.

She’s here.

I wasn’t sure if she would come, seeing how upset she was last night and the messages she’s ignored since. Can’t deny I’m a little sore at her silence, but mostly I’m struggling with her hurt.

It’s not overly obvious to see. Her gaze is locked on the floor in front of her, avoiding everyone as usual. Her clothing is in different shades of blue, and fuck if that doesn’t sum up her mood.

As if sadness is slowly choking her.

Stepping up onto the treadmill, she digs her phone out of her leggings pocket, taps at it for a moment, and starts her walk. Not able to resist her magnetic pull any longer, I stride purposefully over and step onto the machine beside her.

Her head turns towards me. With a mid-blue base layer, her pale grey eyes are even more fucking startling as she takes a minute to assess me. She must see something in my eyes that eases her, and her shoulders relax slightly, some weight disappearing, making them lighter.

And fuck it does the same for mine. Some of the frustration melts, and the coiled disappointment in my gut over her reaction to Max, cools. Rosy taking some comfort from me means she’s not shutting me out.

Not offering her words, because often they’re just meaningless bullshit people use, I reach across the small gap between us, tugging her hand into mine. Selfishly, I need her touch, then we continue the walk in steady quiet.

With our gym session finished, we’re taking the short walk back home. But she’s withdrawing, and fuck if I know what to do to make it stop. Physically she’s here, but she’s retreated inside.

I hate it.

It’s not something I can control or force, but if I push, will she pull away more?

Sadness is still hanging off her. I miss her sweet smiles.

This is Max’s fucking thing. He does the jokes. The things to make her laugh. What does he even do to make her do it?

I didn’t even want to share in the first place, then the stupid little shit had to make her giggle and get all attached, only to leave her sad.

And stuck with me.

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I glance at her walking beside me. She’s staring straight ahead, walking on autopilot. Are her thoughts quiet at least? Or are they so busy she’s shutting down?

Not knowing what else to do, I reach out a hand and lock my fingers with hers. I might not be able to say the right shit like Noah, be good at listening like Bry, or even make her laugh like Max. But I can be there for her always.

She’s never going to feel alone again.

Her shoulders jolt in surprise, confirming how lost she was in her mind, and she glances down at our entwined hands. Squeezing her as softly as I can, I remind her I’m here.

It might not have the spark reappearing in her eyes, but a few of the tense lines around her face disappear.

My hand jolts her to a halt when we reach her door.

“Shit, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” she rushes out. “I’ve been really bad company, and an even worse friend for not responding to your messages.”

She drops my hand, and her fingers twist tightly together.

“Is that what this is? Just two friends?” I ask, stepping in closer, crowding her.

Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens to respond, then snaps shut. She tries again. “I don’t know? We haven’t said anything.”

Fuck. That’s on me. My head’s so full of her, she’s taken up residence in it. But I forgot she doesn’t know that.

“Then this is me saying something. I don’t want friends.”