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“You don’t have to be strong anymore,” I swore. “I’m here.”
She didn’t say anything, and I curled my hand around the back of her neck, my thumb smoothing over her thrashing pulse.
“You’re whole,” I reminded her. “And beautiful, and so ridiculously intelligent that it scares me sometimes.”
She sniffled the tiniest bit, and I took that to be the last of her energy, an attempt to laugh.
“You are,” I insisted. “Anyone can see that. Except for you, apparently. But I know that the woman you were when we met almost seven years ago would be so fucking proud of you right now. She’d probably be a little pissed that you’re not.”
Mia mumbled something into my neck and I craned my neck to hear her better. “What was that?”
“I was terrified when I first met you,” she hiccupped, her body still spasming with the aftershock of her grief. “The girl I was then wouldn’t believe I’m sitting here right now.”
“Well, there you go.” I smiled, rubbing her back. Gentle, so gentle, because I’d never understand what it had taken for her to talk about her past. “Past Mia is still you, and she’s still beautiful, and intelligent. And she’s worth loving just as much as you are.”
Mia shook her head.
“None of that,” I scolded her softly. “You did what you had to, and you did it to take care of your family. No matter what anyone says, you’re human, and you deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. Maybe more.”
“You’re biased.”
I chuckled at the brazen lack of hesitance in her retort, but let it slide. “I might be,” I agreed instead. “But I also tend to be a pretty good judge of character.”
She made a small sound that might have been a scoff, but said nothing.
“Tell me what you need,” I finally said, pleaded, my arms tightening around her shaking frame. “Whatever you need, I’ll make it happen.”
She was quiet for a moment before she lifted her head and rested her chin on my shoulder, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. Her arms flexed around me, as if making sure I was real.
That I was there.
“Just… stay like this with me,” she whispered, her voice almost gone after the agony tore it from her throat. “Just for a little longer. Please.”
So I did.
I held her, keenly aware of her slowing heartbeat, her chest pressed to mine, her pulse a steady rhythm on my throat. I counted each of them like seconds on the clock, holding onto each one. It could have been minutes. It could have been years.
But when her heart had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, she sniffled again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I’d ever have to do this. I didn’t think I’d have to talk about it.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said, my hand gentle on her back. “If anything,I’msorry for hauling it out of you.”
Mia pulled away and I immediately missed the warmth of her body on mine.
I kept that to myself, though.
“No,” she said, her voice a little stronger. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I just- I’m glad it was you. I wouldn’t have told anyone else.”
It was the confidence in those words, the absolute surety, that struck me hardest. Selfishly, I’d been glad that it was me, too. That she’d chosen to tellme, as if I mattered enough to share this kind of pain with.
“Have you never talked about it before?” I ventured, unable to keep myself from reaching out to hold her hands in mine.
“I didn’t have anyone to tell,” she admitted. “And I wanted to forget it had ever happened. I thought I’d buried it, you know? Locked it away in a drawer in the back of my head. Besides, I was too scared of what people would think.”
“Yeah, well, fuck what people think,” I muttered nastily. “It’s no one else’s business, anyway.”
Her lips pressed into some semblance of a smile, and I fumbled for something to do.
