AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Gwenna
“Does Kellan think that?”
He frowns.
“Does he agree with what you said? That you deserve pain?”
He shakes his head, looking troubled. “I don’t—”
“You are in pain.” I stroke his wrists; I look into his desperate eyes. “You’re here, you’ve been back for a while, but you’re still hurt. I know.” He looks down as his face hardens. I can feel his body still: embarrassment or shame. I stroke his strong arm. “You’re doing the best you can, baby, trying to hold yourself together… I know. And you’ve done really well. You’re so strong. But you know what? I think you can’t trust yourself on some things. Not right now. A part of you—” I swallow. His eyes flick to mine; our gazes hold and it feels tender, then bright like the sun, almost painful. I push forward in a breathless whisper.
“I think you want
to hurt yourself. You don’t know what to do; you can’t see your way out. And you can’t trust yourself right now to know what you deserve. Kellan loves you.” I swallow, clearing my throat. “I love you. Cleo loves you, too. So I think you have to at least take into consideration what we think.” I take his hands in mine and squeeze. “We don’t think you should be hurt, or that you deserve to be in pain. We want you to feel better. I just want you to feel good.”
I hold him to me. His body is shaking. I can feel his pain seep into my own bones.
“Whatever happened over there?” I lean away so I can look into his tortured eyes. “That is in the past. That Barrett? He’s gone. Maybe you can think of him as dead. He’s gone, just like Breck. You can’t reach him anymore, because he’s gone. Maybe things were so bad, you wanted the pain. To have control over yourself or…I don’t know. But you can be a different person now, I swear, I know you can. Not can—are. You’re here now. You won’t go back there. You couldn’t if you wanted to. So I think maybe you should let that person go. Because he is gone.
“You’re not a sniper anymore…” I wrap both arms around his back, and Barrett leans against me, quiet and still. “You’re not a killer, Bear. You’re my neighbor… You live in the woods. With bears, and a weird girl who makes cakes with beer. You still look like the other Barrett… You have scars of his. But you— I know this Barrett. You’re sweet and brave and strong.” I stroke his soft hair. “What was left from all that stuff, what you came back with—the day you met up with Kellan and Cleo and they drove you to rehab your arm—that guy: the one who moved here and saw me at the meeting… You are him. And he does not deserve to hurt.”
I take his face in my hands; he lifts his head off my shoulder and I stare deep into his eyes.
“If it doesn’t ring true to you, you have to believe me. Because in this way, I can see more clearly what’s right… your brother can… Cleo can… You are someone new now. The other Barrett, that one…” I shake my head, struggling for words. “Maybe you feel so bad because you’re holding onto someone who is gone. And maybe you should mourn him. He isn’t coming back. And who you were before then?” My voice cracks. “I have one of those too. This ghost version. She isn’t coming back either. You know what I mean?”
His wet eyes blink at mine. His sweet, still face… I cup his jaw, stroking gently over his soft skin.
“That Bear is gone. And you can miss him. Miss him. I miss the old Gwen. She was different, but you might have liked her.”
Tears slide down his cheeks.
“The Barrett who enlisted? Dead. The Barrett who was over there? He’s gone, too. He probably died with Breck.”
His features tighten. He pulls me close and buries his face in my shoulder.
“I wish he had,” he chokes.
“I know.” I hug him tightly, wrap my hand around the back of his head. “I know. Now you’re someone else, and even though they feel so strong, all that, your memories—are only memories now. We can’t reach back in time, you know? So you have to think of yourself as someone new now. You’re what’s left. And all the misery? That stuff belongs with the dead.”
“You can’t see it?”
“See what?”
He shoulders shiver. “I feel…like everyone can see it,” he says in a broken voice.
“What can we see?”
“I’m not just a guy.”
“You are.” I stroke his strong back. “You’re my guy next door.” His eyes flicker to mine. They’re dark. “Let me ask you this, Barrett: Have you killed anybody here?”
His face pales. I feel bad about asking such a harsh question, but I press on. “Have you?”
“No.”
“Have you lost any friends in that house next door? In real time?”
He shakes his head.
