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All four of us lay on the floor. Shelly on my left, Erin on her other side, and Jonas on my right. The only source of light spills from the screen. Occasionally, the room goes dark. I relish those scenes the most. The ones that give me a semblance of solitude. A breath of privacy.
Currently, Shelly’s fingers play with my hair as her eyes remain glued to the television. Erin is out of my line of sight, but I assume she’s focused on the movie. And although my eyes aren’t absorbing a single minute of the movie, I am fully aware that Jonas has been staring at me for the last five minutes.
And I don’t know how that makes me feel.
I glance over at him—to confirm—and catch him before he can look away. His eyes crinkle at the corners and his sadness for me weighs heavier than I can bear. When he turns back to the movie, he scoots down and lays flatter. And something inside me flips. Begs for his comfort.
Shelly and Erin bring me solace, but it isn’t the same. Women experience emotion different than men. They also console in other ways.
I roll onto my side and snuggle against Jonas’s frame. Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around me and draws me closer. His heat warming my cool skin. But the second he places a kiss on the crown of my head, I lose it. The flood gates open once again and I cry into his shirt. Soak the cotton. With each round of tears, he holds me tighter, strokes my hair softer, shushes my cries more, and I clench his shirt in my fists harder.
We lay like this for hours—me curled into his side and him cradling me. The first movie ends and a new movie starts right after. I have no idea what plays, nor do I care. I just want to lay here and cry my eyes out. Cry until I have no more tears. Cry until I pass out.
After my tears subside a while, I sit up and notice Erin and Shelly fell asleep at some point. I envy how peaceful they both look. And I pray to whatever power resides over me, please let me sleep tonight. I need a deep, dreamless sleep. Just one solid night.
Jonas sits up and tenderly tucks my hair behind my ears. I don’t doubt I look a hot mess right now. Hair a rat’s nest. Pajamas still on from earlier when Mom was here. Eyes puffy and bloodshot. Lips cracked. But the way Jonas stares at me right now, I feel the exact opposite. His swirly blue-hazels are gentle as he searches my face.
“You want to go lay down? Maybe try to get some sleep? I’ll tuck you in.”
God, I hate myself and the fact I was never able to be anything but friends with Jonas. He is such a good man. A family man. Is someone I depend on. Someone I trust. Someone I care about. He likes me on a much deeper level than friendship. In the back of my mind, I think I have always been privy to this. I just shoved it away. Smothered it. Because my stupid brain has never been able to let go of Gavin.
But after everything that has happened, maybe I should let myself try again. Let myself find love with someone else. Someone who won’t abandon me. Someone who will do anything for me.
“Yeah, okay,” I say.
Jonas stands and extends his hand out to me. I take it and rise from the floor. He walks me toward my bedroom with his arm around my shoulders. A sudden nervousness hits me when we walk into my bedroom. It’s like nothing I have experienced with Jonas. Like a hurricane swirls beneath my ribcage.
I slip under my covers and he slides them up to my chin before sitting beside me on the bed. He gazes at me with an expression very un-Jonas. His forehead bunches and straightens and bunches again. When he reaches forward and brushes his knuckles across my cheek, the gentle touch trips a live wire inside me. I lean into his touch and close my eyes momentarily. The pent-up emotions I have ignored with Jonas detonate with ferocity.
I study his blue-rimmed hazels as they hone in on my lips. His eyes perplexed and loaded with indecision. Then his tongue darts out and wets his lips. Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. But after a second, I catch a slight shake of his head. The indiscernible gesture probably wasn’t meant to be seen, but I am the body language detector and pick up on the smallest of signals.
“How are you?” Jonas asks, voice soft and endearing. And something tells me that wasn’t what he wanted to say. But I shove the thought aside.
When most people ask me this question, I tell them I am fine. That everything is okay, although I silently scream in my head. Although I am slowly shattering inside. But there are a select few people I am straightforward with, Jonas being one of them. Shelly, Erin, and my mom being the others. I talk with Dad, but we discuss different stuff—less of the emotional, more of the rest.
“I don’t know. Feels like I’m falling apart. Like someone took a chisel and hammer to my heart and started chipping it away all over again. It took so long to somewhat heal from the first time. Jonas, I don’t think I’ll survive this time.” As the final words slip from my lips, tears roll down the sides of my face and spill to the pillow.
Jonas scoots closer, gently plants his hands on either side of my face, and leans over me. He hovers there a moment, inches from my face. From my lips. “You will get through this, Cora. I won’t let it be any other way.” He lifts one hand from the bed, brushes my hair from my face, and wipes away my tears. His calloused fingers so tender on my temples. “This time will not be the same,” he says, huskily.
“How can you be so sure?” I ask, needing some form of reassurance.
“Because you have me and Shelly and Erin and so many others. We’re all here for you. On your team. And no matter what happens, we’ll be here for you.”
I nod, not knowing how else to respond. But the truth in his words erases some of the chill in my bones.
“Try to get some sleep. If you need me, I’ll be on the couch. And we’ll all be here when you wake up in the morning.”
Jonas leans in and I hold my breath as he presses his lips to my forehead. His lips are soft and warm. I close my eyes and allow myself to feel something other than sadness for a brief moment in time. To envision what life could be like if I gave Jonas a chance. If I set my heart free from the cage it has been in for far too long. Because life with Jonas would be good. Filled with smiles and laughter and warmth and love. I don’t have to experience it to know it.
When he slow
ly lifts his lips from my skin, I shift below him and move my lips closer to his. And for a split second, our lips touch. The air crackles and steals my breath. But as quickly as our lips make contact, he breaks away.
“No, Cora.” He rears back and scoots farther away from me, his eyes closed and head shaking.
Rejection hits me with incomparable force. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I press a hand to my lips.
He doesn’t want me? How could I be so stupid? What the hell was I thinking?
