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“Something like that,” I mutter.
“It’s okay to admit it, you know. That you feel something. It doesn’t make you weak.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No. Not if you don’t let it.”
Her words repeat in my head for a couple of long seconds and she allows me the time to try to process everything.
“I don’t know anything about her, Seb, so I might be way off the mark here, but… she’s not weak. She might not have had a choice in moving here, but it seems to me like she fits right in. From the rumours I’ve heard, she’s given you a run for your money.”
“What do you know?” I ask, exasperated.
She chuckles. “I know all the things you’re too chicken shit to admit. You want her, and it’s killing you. You’re terrified, so you lash out. You think you hate her, you blame her for all this shit that has nothing to do with her, but really, all you want is her.”
“Wow, that’s quite a big opinion, considering you’ve never met her.”
“I don’t need to meet her. I know you, Seb. I know how your mind works.”
“Great,” I mutter.
“I know you’re trying to do the right thing by protecting her. Staying outside her room all that time. Hell, that’s the thing of fucking fairy tales, Seb. But she’s hurting, and not just from her injuries.
“I have no idea what’s really gone down between you, but something tells me both of you need this time, this distance.
“You’ve known each other, what? Six weeks at the most. Take a step back, take a breath, and try to figure out what you really want here. And trust that Damien and everyone is doing their best to find this asshole and keep her safe. You don’t have to take all of this on. Trust the people around you.”
“I just… I want her here. I need to know she’s okay.”
“Trust her to know what she needs and just hope that involves coming back to you.”
“And what if she doesn’t?”
“Then, and only once you’ve figured out what you really want, you show your hand.”
“How long will that take?”
“Only you know that, Seb.” She sighs. “If in, I don’t know, two weeks, she hasn’t reappeared and you’re still feeling like this, then maybe it’s time to do something about it.”
“Two weeks?” I ask. That feels like a million years right now.
“There are no rules here. You’ve just gotta trust your instincts.”
“Because they’re so trustworthy.”
“You’re a good person, Seb. Maybe you just need to show her a little more of the person we see, the uncle Phoebe sees.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I mumble.
Stubbing out the end of my blunt on the ground, I stare up at the twinkling stars above.
“You want a lift home?”
“Umm…”
“You need a good night’s sleep. Maybe after that, everything will be a little clearer.”
With her arm around my waist, Sophia manages to get me to her car without me face-planting the damp ground. My life is already in ruins; I don’t need to add a busted-up face into the mix as well.
