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When I sat back, I realized that while I'd been playing with the leaf, deep in thought, an older woman had joined me on the bench. She didn't look at me or comment on my tears, just let me be, and I appreciated it.
Pulling my legs up, I balanced on my elbows as I continued to look out over the area. It had been around ten minutes or so when she spoke, her voice was soft and soothing.
“I love coming here. It always feels so peaceful.”
“You come here often?” I asked, turning and looking at her, my head laying on my knees.
“Not as much as I’d like. It's harder for me to make it up the hill, but on good days, I do.”
“Today was a good day then?” For some reason, I found myself engaging with her, curious about what brought her here.
“Oh yes, a wonderful day. I woke up to a visit from my grandchildren, and I felt a spring in my step. I just knew I needed to get up here. I'm glad I did. It seems I needed to meet you.”
“Me?” I asked, sitting back as I touched my chest. She looked over at me, a kind smile on her face. Her appearance didn’t give much to go off, with her grey hair, soft eyes, and wrinkly skin. She wore a purple sweater and jeans and appeared innocent and sweet. The woman was the picture-perfect version of a Hallmark grandmother. She let me inspect her, waiting until I was done before she responded.
“Yes, dear. I heard part of your message earlier. I didn't want to interrupt, so I waited. But when I heard you speak, the grief and pain were palpable in your voice, and I knew I was meant to talk to you.”
“But why?” I ignored the fact this stranger had heard me bare my soul and focused on the crazy part. Did she believe in fate or angels? Neither had ever done anything for me. In fact, I was sure my guardian angel's wings had to be broken.
She scooted a little closer, taking my hand in hers. “I can hear your heartbreak and despair and how it's become this monster you're so scared of disrupting, that instead of facing it, you let it wreak havoc in your life.”
“No, that's not it,” I immediately said, shaking my head in denial.
She gave me one of those looks older women seemed to have a patent on, telling you how far-fetched whatever you just said was. I sighed, dropping my head, unable to bear her knowing gaze. “It's just, I'm so tired of being hurt, of being the one left behind.”
Her free hand lifted my chin, wiping the tears falling from my face. It should’ve felt weird disclosing all this to a random stranger, but it was the south, and we tended to trust until we had a reason not to. Plus, her presence was comforting, and she made me feel cherished. How I had longed to feel that, my family was too far away to give me my daily doses.
“Oh, sweetie, that's one of life's hardest lessons. Every great reward comes with great risk. It's all a game of chance in the end.”
“I don't think I have anything left to chance then.”
“You know, I once loved a man who was all wrong for me. He was daring and impulsive, and he made me feel alive in a way no one in my sleepy little town had ever done before. My mama told me he was bad news, and I'd regret the day I ever met him. But I didn't listen, and when he asked me to run away, I did.”
“Did you live happily ever after?”
“Oh honey, no.” She chuckled. “My mama had been right about him being bad news. But she was wrong about me regretting it. Now, it was hard, don’t get me wrong. I thought life was going to be one way, and when it didn't work out the way I'd planned, I panicked. I held onto something I didn't need for longer than necessary because of fear. But once I stopped and took a look around at my life, I found myself exactly where I needed to be.”
“What if where I need to be doesn't exist? I don't know who to trust.”
“The thing about trusting dear, we feel it in our bones. You just gotta trust yourself to know. Our body picks up all those hidden cues our brain stores away, the ones our heart chooses to ignore at times. Trust… it’s more than a feeling. It's history and experiences, but most of all, trust is a promise. No one is going to be perfect, but you can't fake genuine emotions.” She paused, letting her words sink in. When she felt I’d had time to digest them, she patted my hand. “How about you tell me what's troubling you, and I'll see if I can help.”
Nodding, I exhaled and spilled my guts to the kind stranger I hadn't even asked the name of. I told her about my curse, about the letters, and about the night everything seemed to go awry.
“Now I'm having to look at everything and try to figure out who's lying. On the one hand, Thane hasn't lied to me since I've met him outside the letter thing, and Slade and Simon have. But on the other, I've known and loved Simon my whole life, and Slade's been nice to me in moments, even when he didn't want to. I can understand now why he might've pushed me away if he thought I'd been faking knowing him this whole time. But then that means Thane's lying.”
“What if they're all lying and all telling the truth?”
“I don't understand how that would work.”
“Well, in my experience, people tend to smudge the lines a little to put themselves in the best light. It's not even a conscious decision most of the time. It's much easier to think of ourselves as the hero in our own stories and not the villain. But what if we're both? We might be our own hero, but then does it make us the villain in someone else's? Until everyone sits down and talks things out, you're never going to know. You can't be in the middle of it this way, having to choose. Now, being in the middle of an S&S sandwich… Now, that sounds delightful!”
“Ma'am! I can't believe you just said that!”
“What? Just because I'm old, I can't talk about sex?”
“Well,yeah.” My eyes bugged out at her, my cheeks heating.
“I'll have you know, I was a rebel back in my day. They didn't call it poly, whatever it's called now, but I once had two boyfriends.”
