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Confusion.
Longing.
Which had me questioning my resolve about how much I’d share with her in that moment.
—Belle—
After I helped him get dressed in some of my brother’s clothes, I changed into a hoodie and sweats. The uncomfortable silence hammered all around me, tearing into my insecurities that it was a bad idea having him in my bedroom with my parents not being home.
But what else was I supposed to do?
I couldn’t just leave him to face the consequences by himself. Although, Tristian’s body was in the room with me, his mind was somewhere else entirely.
He looked lost.
I’d never seen that look on anyone’s face before.
The quietness was deafening, stirring me to ask, “You live with your grandfather?”
His eyes locked with mine as I sat in front of him on my bed.
“I have since my parents died.”
“And when was that?”
He winced, it was quick, but I saw it.
“Never mind, we don’t have to tal—”
“I was six.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Tristian. You were just a little boy.”
“It made me a man.”
“No one should have to go through that. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if something happened to my parents.”
“You learn to adapt.”
“Can I ask what happened?”
He thought about it for a second. I didn’t think he’d reply, so when he looked away, I felt as if he was reliving it all over again.
“It’s my first memory…”
My mouth parted, hanging on by a thread.
“Watching them die in front of me.”
I sucked in a breath, feeling his response in the pit of my stomach. My heart immediately ached for him.
“He had all kinds of different bikes. It was his addiction. He collected them.”
“The bikes that you’re riding. Are they his?”
“Yeah. It was the only possessions of his that my grandfather kept. He knew how much they meant to him.”
Chalk it up to hormones, or maybe it was me desperately wanting to form a connection with him. In that second, sitting in front of him, it felt like I was the first person he’d shared this with. He’d exposed a side to him that no one knew existed, possibly not even him.
