Page 80 of Her Pretty Words
I frown. “You had no one to talk to for so long, but I know you had much to say. You can tell me,” I whisper. “If you wish.”
He looks at me then. I meanreallylooks at me. “The woman you are...”
I tilt my head.
“You’re compassionate, kind, beautiful…smart, of course. I could name thousands of adjectives if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalling.”
“I am.”
“You don’t need to say anything.”
“I want to. God, I want to, but I don’t even know where to start.”
“Close your eyes,” I say. He glances at me warily but does as I instructed. “You must have so many words trapped. Let them out, Grayson. Let someone else carry them for a while.” I squeeze his hand encouragingly.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Are you sure you want to hear it all? I don’t want to bothe?—”
“Yes. I want to listen.”
“Macy. I really,reallylike you.”
I grin. “You’re stalling…”
“No. That’s one of the things I wanted to say as a kid.” He opens one eye to peek at me. I’m smiling. His left dimple appears, then he closes his eyes again. I’m patient, waiting for him to speak, tracing his features.
“Sometimes… I think tragedy follows me. I can’t seem to escape its cruel way of popping out and scaring me when I least expect it to.”Oh, Grayson...“Ever since I was a kid, I lay in bed at night and picture what it would be like to see them again. How it would look for a family to reunite after spending a lifetime apart.” He opens his pained eyes to meet mine, inhales a breath, then continues. “I moved into my uncle’s house in Fort Meyers. He took care of me in all the necessary ways, but he never spoke about my family. The more time that separated them and I, the more I wondered if they existed at all, or if I made them up in my head. Delilah especially seemed too good to have ever been true. She was a built-in best friend. We were together nearly every second of the day. When I discovered loneliness, I couldn’t fathom ever having a different companion.”
I frame his face with my hands and kiss both his temples. “I wish I could take all your pain.”
He shakes his head. “If me enduring it keeps it from ever touching you, then I’ll withstand it for eternity.”
If I had the chance to carry the weight of his grief, I would do so in a heartbeat. Maybe that’s what it means to truly love somebody. I place a soft kiss to his lips. “Keep going.”
“Okay,” he says. “As the years went on, I thought I’d burn alive in the silence. Or drown. Whichever is worse.” He pulls me so I’m in his lap, then hugs me to his chest. “I just really need to hold on to you. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Good.” He continues. “It was so quiet, Mace. My uncle was there, but we didn’t really interact with one another. He was always working. I didn’t talk to anyone at school either. Sometimes my teacher would pair me up with other kids, and they would make it a game of who could get me to talk first. My raging silence was their entertainment. But at home, when it was just me and the quiet… It wasloud. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
“It was like static filling my head. Sometimes I wondered if my brain would explode.” He sighs. “I’ve always wanted to tell someone that. To just, I don’t know, complain.”
“You’re not complaining, Grayson.” I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and tuck my face in his chest. “What else?”
He squeezes me a little. “I felt like a ghost the day I moved here and went into town. I even went to The BARnacle, but no one recognized me. I didn’t think I wanted anyone to, but it still hurt, Mace. Itreallyhurt.”
How is he still standing? How could anyone survive what he did and still smile? How could he have it in his heart to be kind when the world has been so cruel?
“I made it through the school years because I knew I’d see you in the summer. When the pain felt strangling, I told myself ‘Just a little longer until I see her again.’ When you came, everything seemed to be all right, because there was a person right out my window who was always happy, and somehow,that made my grief smaller. It was like looking down from an airplane and realizing how small your life is compared to everything else out there. You saved me, Mace. Without even trying, you saved me.”
I pull back to look at his face. “Don’t give me credit for your survival.Youdid that, and I’m so in awe of you and your strength.” I understand grief. Not to the extent of his, but I know how heavy it is. How it’s hard to pull yourself out of bed. What it’s like to not to let tears fall because once they do, they’ll never end. “After all your heart went through, you still have it in you to—”Love?I point between us. “This. You still have it in your heart forthis.”
“This,” he breathes. “Is the only good thing I’ve experienced since I was six, and I keep waiting for something to steal it away. I don’t want you to feel pressured to continue this, and I certainly don’t want your pity. I don’t even know whatthisis, I just know it feels like?—”
“Destiny,” I answer for him. “It feels like destiny.”