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She shook her head a fraction.
"Eight billion," he said, his voice hoarse, "and yours is the only one that floods my soul with peace."
She exhaled a shaky breath. "Are you a poet now?"
It was a feeble attempt at making a joke, but the buzz of heat prevented them from cracking a smile. They stared at each other, breaths coming short. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a second, then back up at her. She licked her lips. He gulped.
It took all of his willpower to pull himself back. He didn't want it to happen this way.
Chris cursed himself. This was exactly the reason why they weren't together. He was always looking for the perfect moment to kiss her.
And this wasn't the perfect moment. She was grieving. She was vulnerable. He didn't want to take advantage of it. Besides, he was still dating Abby, and she was in a relationship with Xavier. Just as he didn't want to cheat anyone, he was sure it'd crush her if she thought of herself as unfaithful.
And there was nothing more he hated than seeing Giselle hurt.
Chapter 22
It was an early Tuesday morning. Giselle stood on her balcony and stared at nothing in particular, breathing in the cold air. The sun, though not as intense as usual, shone directly on her, and she bathed in the warmth, feeling better after what seemed like years to her.
The road ahead was deserted, and she appreciated the peace and the silence that usually came after the busy hour of people rushing to offices and schools. She looked at Chris's house across the street and smiled. His curtains were drawn but she knew he was up, getting an early morning workout in.
Life had changed for Giselle. Everything seemed different as if her existence was split into a before and after. Life after her father was as if everything was coming to get her. It was as if negative air surrounded her. Ever since she'd found out about Abbott's demise, his memories kept flooding her mind from time to time.
However, there was one particular memory that was clearer than the others, and her mind centered on it every single time.
It was two years ago. A few days after her mother had been buried in Petrichor, they were back in Phoenix. She kept crying in her room, making sure her voice was down so no one was bothered. An hour had passed but she couldn't stop. All her attempts at calming herself were failing, and she was afraid if she didn't get a hold of herself, she'd let out a scream. She wasn't being strong despite the promise she'd made her father.
Nothing helped, so she gave in. Giselle let out a sob and then pushed her hands over her mouth so tight that it hurt her. She was angry. She felt weak.
Abbott entered her room. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.
"N-nothing." She wiped away the tears, trying to erase the evidence.
Her father sighed and walked toward her bed. He sat beside her and wrapped his long arm around her shoulders. "I thought my princess was okay."
That was all it took. She inhaled sharply and cried out loud, her tears falling.
"It's okay." He held her tight. "I know mom's not here right now, and it hurts. We miss her so much. It's okay to hurt. It's okay to cry..."
Once she calmed down a little, she looked at him. Exhaustion lined his face. Her body shook in the aftermath of the breakdown.
"I'm sorry, daddy," she whispered.
"Why are you sorry?" he asked.
"I know, I had promised to be strong, but I failed. I tried really hard not to cry, but then I couldn't stop missing mom!" He didn't interrupt, watching her silently. "I kept thinking about all the misery she went through before she died. I couldn't stop thinking about how selfish I was for praying that she'd stay alive just so I could keep seeing her every day, even though I knew that she was in pain. I don't know! I'm just sorry that I wasn't strong like I promised."
Abbott sighed. "Who said being strong meant that you can't cry?"
"What?"
"Being strong doesn't mean that you should hide your pain or push it away. Being strong means understanding your vulnerability. It means giving yourself time to heal. It means you accept that you're hurting, and it's going to take time before things get normal, and that it's okay.
"Being vulnerable doesn't make you weak, honey. It makes you strong. The understanding that all of this is a part of life, and that grief will take its time to become bearable, will make you strong. Accept it and let yourself feel it." He paused. "The only way to get to the other side is through it."
Giselle had looked up at her father. And he'd kissed her forehead.
His words echoed in her head.The only way to get to the other side is through it.
