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I wanted it so badly, but the emotion rose like a busted geyser, bursting with so much affection, lust, disbelief, everything. Every good emotion a person can feel, and some of the bad and in-between ones too.
Pathetically, I almost started to cry, and then he was backing up, and the moment was gone.
As the hours and days have passed – I’ve been working, and my college schedule is not due to resume until two days, and I wonder if I imagined it.
He didn’tactuallytry to kiss me. I don’t know for sure why he was leaning over like that.
“Della?” Hudson says.
“Yeah, sorry.” I stare down at my hands, my flaky skin burned by the hot dishwater. “I’m just tired.”
“Me too.” Hudson smiles sympathetically. “We should try to find a day we can take off together soon. Maybe we could head down to the old neighborhood.”
He’s said this several times, meaning he wants us to go and visit mom and dad’s graves. I know he’s been almost weekly since it all happened, but the one time I tried, it was like the world was folding in on itself. My breath tried to choke me.
“Maybe,” I murmur. “Or we could go to the movies or something.”
Hudson nods, not needing to ask me what I mean by that.
“You’re a good big brother,” I add.
He grins, and I know he understands why I’m telling him that now. It’s because he never needs me to explain why I might need a little more time.
He doesn’t make me say her name. Jess’ name.
Even saying it to myself hurts sometimes.
After dinner, I go into my bedroom, intending to study my textbook for a couple of hours. But the pull of my bed is too strong.
I lie down, letting my eyes close, and then the visions come to me.
The images of Jess, mom, and dad, not that I ever saw them. Hudson was the one who handled all of that.
He took that evil so I didn’t have to.
But my imagination is fire-filled enough, in the most literal sense.
Flaming agony taunts me until I have to sit up, my hands on my knees.
My mind flits to the office, to the moment Elias leaned in, anything not to think about mom, dad, and Jess.
Kiss him, I scream silently.Take this chance.
I flinch when my phone makes its text-alert noise.
Picking it up quickly, I stare at his name.
Elias.
Each syllable causes a tic in my lips until, miraculously, I’m smiling.
It’s like it doesn’t matter how we left things, doesn’t matter we haven’t spoken in two days. Just seeing his name – before I’ve even read his text – is enough to make all that nasty stuff seem more manageable.
How are you doing, Della? I’ve been thinking about what happened in my office. I’ve got no clue what to say. So I’ve decided to reach out.
Do you want the truth?I reply.
Yes, he texts back, straight away.
