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Her blinking speeds.
“Okay, Langston won’t become the leader.”
I pause, trying to figure out what is the most important things to ask without breaking her—without pushing her too far. But now that I have hope, I can’t help myself.
“Do you blame me for what happened?”
Her blinking slows—no, she doesn’t blame me.
I exhale a deep breath. She should blame me, but she doesn’t. I can live with that. But then why will she talk to Liesel and not me?
“You won’t hurt me, you know? You may think you will hurt me if you tell me what Milo did to you. I understand if it is easier to talk to Liesel about what happened than to me, but I’m here. Whatever you need.”
Her blinking remains steady, and I can’t tell what it means.
I sigh,
rubbing the back of my neck. My back aches from sitting hunched over in this too-small chair, but I don’t care. I’d sit here all day as long as she gives me any sort of interaction, any amount of hope that we can heal from this.
“I want to touch you—hold your hand. Is that okay?”
I hold my breath as a lump in my throat grows, and the burning ache in my belly strengthens. After the last few weeks worrying about Kai, I’m surprised if I have any lining left in my stomach.
Steady blinking, but then, rapid—her way of saying yes to me.
I suck in more oxygen, not daring to let any of it leave because I’m not sure if this moment is real. Holding my breath is the only thing keeping me from throwing her over my shoulder and taking her away from everything. Because here we have to face reality, but away, we could start anew. A fresh start may be exactly what we need.
Slowly, I extend my right hand out toward Kai, hoping she will move the final inches toward my hand. I don’t want to scare her or hurt her. I don’t want to force her to do anything. I want her to come to me.
So I approach her like I would a stray dog. With caution, love, and patience. I hold out my hand and wait, but she never takes my hand.
I want to touch her.
And she said yes to me touching her.
But it still feels wrong when my hand grasps hers.
I can’t let go, though. I need this to feel right. I need her hand to feel like it did before.
But when I look into Kai’s eyes, I know. This is what she knew all along. This is why she wanted me to touch her. Not to feel hope that I can heal her, but to know in the depths of my soul that I can’t. Kai doesn’t want to be saved. She doesn’t want to heal. She wants to live with her scars. And her scars won’t let her love me.
I know the feeling. I’ve felt that way in the past. My father turned my heart sinister. He ensured that loving another would be the most difficult thing I ever did. So I fought with everything I had to prevent it. But still, I fell in love with the fiercest woman I’ve ever known. And it was all for nothing.
There is no hope left. Can I keep fighting for us, when Kai has no hope?
I stare down at our hands that have somehow intertwined with each other. Did I do that? Or was it an automatic response from deep inside that forced our hands together in this way?
My eyes drift up toward Kai’s. They are still hollow, still empty. And I would give away all the love I feel for her just to give her back the soul in her eyes.
Fuck, I love her so much.
Love means never giving up. I can’t as long as I love her. Kai may never be able to love me back, but it’s not enough to stop me.
“Let go,” she says, her voice full of pain.
I exhale all my breath and drop her hand. But I don’t let go of her. I won’t. Ever.
Kai Miller deserves the world. She deserves all I can give her. All of the love I denied her for so long. I will never love again. Not like I love her. Our kind of love is rare and consuming.
