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He looked up at me, his eyes begging me to understand, to listen, to see him. Wasn’t that what I wanted, too? To be seen?
I reached for Easton, my hand going to his leg and resting there. He stared down at it for a moment, blinking rapidly before looking back up at me. It felt like it was easier for him to speak directly to me, and I didn’t mind.
“She told me to wait, and she went in the back, grabbed out some takeout box. I think it was some leftovers that she’d been eating for lunch. When she came back, I thought she was going to give me some. My stomach rumbled loudly, and I was reaching for it when she dropped it on the ground, the container still in her hand, so the food spilled all over the floor.”
My jaw dropped in horror. It was already awful and I knew that wasn’t the end of the story. My house might have been cold and my parents shit, but at least I never had to wonder if I’d eat.
“She told me if I wanted to eat, I could lick it off the floor.”
There were curses from the guys. My heart broke as I gave his leg a squeeze, tears burning at my eyes at the pain still in his voice.
“She was a bitch. You never deserved that,” I said. “No one did.”
“That woman flaunted her money all over town, but that was the lowest moment of my life. It was never you, Tori. If I would have opened my eyes even once, I would have seen that you were nothing like those rich people. Like her.”
“You’re right; I was never like them. But I knew their kind.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I knew from the first time I saw you scared and fighting to find a job that you had drive in you, that you were different. Then you stood there, yelling at me every awful thing that happened to get you to that point, and I’ve never felt like more of an asshole.”
“Then why did you say those things when we came here?” Jordan demanded. “Tori showed us something about herself that she never let anyone else see—a dream—and then I watched the light drain from her eyes when you told her how useless it was.”
His eyes shuttered closed, his entire body sagging at the reality of Jordan’s words.
“God, I’m so fucking sorry, Tori. I didn’t mean it. I was just mad—mad because my brothers were drifting away, hating myself because it was all my fault, upset because I couldn’t fix it. It was never about you.”
It was one of those things that I knew I couldn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. It wasn’t like I truly forgave him yet. I needed to see that he’d changed. Words were always easier than actions.
“What are you doing here, then?” I asked as I swiped a stray tear away.
“It was hard to see you warming up to them but not me, and I needed the space. I didn’t come here with intention, but then I ended up at the hardware store buying supplies and hiking out here before I knew it. The thought of you falling through this porch was haunting me, and so I put all that anger into thisplace. I know we don’t have rights to it, but at least I can make it a little bit safer while you try to make that happen.”
“Thank you,” I said. It looked like he had fixed the railing, the broken door, and this. He’d spent hours here doing the only thing he could, focusing his energy on something good for once, and I couldn’t fault him for that.
“You deserve more than this. You deserve better than me. But if you want to redo this place, then I can help you do that. Teach you how.”
“Bold of you assume I don’t know how to do it myself already.”
He let out a startled laugh and shook his head. “You’re right, you probably could.”
The conviction in his words was another sign he saw me now. For who I am, not who he thought I was. That progress had my chest warming and that hope blooming from a spark to a full-blown inferno.
“Oh, I’m lying through my teeth. I have no idea how to fix anything. I’ve never even really used a hammer.”
He blinked at me, shaking his head in disbelief before he let out a slow chuckle. It morphed into full laughter as we both lost it. The moment felt lighter after that, like we’d taken the step over that metaphorical line, together.
“But I’d like to learn.”
His face softened at that.
“I’d like to teach you.”
Moving forward, I reached for a nail and picked up his hammer. Without words, he moved, putting the next plank in place and pulling a carpenter’s pencil from the toolbox, marking where I should nail it.
“Be careful of your fingers. Hold it steady here and start with careful, purposeful hits.”
My first hit was a disaster. It was too dainty and made the nail shift out of place. He didn’t say anything as I repositioned my hands. He moved in behind me, the bulk of his body surrounding me with warmth as I breathed in his scent: juniper, pine, and sage, a complete contrast of softness to the abrasive man that he was.
“Like this,” he said, wrapping his fingers around the hammer and guiding my movements.
