Page 103 of Under the Waves
I stopped walking. “What did you just say?”
“Non sei rotto. Non sei inamabile. Tu sei, Wellsy. Il mio, Wellsy. Meriti che ti venga mostrato cosa significa essere amato.”
Breathlessly, I stared at him through the blindfold.
Fuck.Not happening.
But when Jasper stepped closer, the evergreen pine and lavender scent of his cologne kissing my drunken thoughts, all time slowed down.
Tentatively, his fingers lightly trailed up my arms in nothing more than gentle strokes. My lips parted on their own accord. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think straight. As he traveled further up my arm, his tender touches threaded hope across every discolored patch of skin. Across every scar that stared back at me through the fragments of my mirror, whispering poisoned thoughts and numbers on scales that seemed too high.
Caressing my neck with his thumb, hand wrapping around to cusp the back of my head, Jasper leaned in and whispered, “I can say it again in Portuguese.” He smiled softly, that all too familiar loopy grin tugging at his lips was evident, even through the layers of the blindfold covering my eyes. “If you’d like, Poppy.”
I froze. He learnt Portuguese.
Jasper Ridge learnt Portuguese.
Forme.
The surge of weight that lifted from inside of me scared meso much so that I lightly smacked his arm, pushing him off me. When, in truth, I wanted to fall down onto my knees and let him hold me because I had no doubt that he could actually heal the child inside of me who just wanted to be loved by everyone—just wanted to be appreciated,wanted.
I scoffed. At myself. At Jasper. At everything. Because that was what I did. I pushed people away the second they showed me even athreadof affection because deep down, I knew I would never feel like I deserved it.
I was always waiting for the punchline, for thejoke, for them to walk straight out of my life and forget me because that was something Iwas. I was forgettable. I was unlovable. I wasbroken.
Broken, broken little girl.
I didn’t deserve to be shown otherwise.
“Why would you learn Portuguese?” I asked, despite myself. Even though I already knew the answer. Even though I hated myself for it.
“Eu tinha alguém para quem valia a pena aprender a língua.”
I had someone worth learning the language for.
My world started spinning; my body drunk on the sound of his words, of the integrity of them.He meant them. He meant every single word.
“Come on, Wellsy,” he mused, clicking his tongue like he hadn’t just shocked every nerve ending inside me. “You don’t want to miss this.”
Jasper pulled me along effortlessly. I was so stunned by his words that I didn’t even try to fight him. I just let him.
“You’re doing so good, Wellsy. Just a little bit further.”
His praise radiated across my entire body, and I felt like I was glowing. As a kid, growing up the way I had, I’d sought my father’s approval since before I even knew what the wordapprovalmeant. If he was proud of me…that was all that mattered. I did every competition for him. So he’d be proud of me.
Now that I looked back on it, I didn’t think there was even one competition where I competed becauseIwanted to. It was never for me.
“Annnnd we’re here,” Jasper said as I heard him unlock what seemed to be a door. A beat of complete silence passed and I was about to ask him if everything was alright when I felt hisbody press up against mine from behind, guiding me inside.
My cheeks were burning as I whispered, “Thank you.”
His fingertips slipped under the blindfold band, caressing my skin in tortuously slow circles with his thumb. “You’re welcome, Wellsy,” he whispered, breathlessly as the tips of my ears turned pink at the closeness of him. “Happy birthday.”
“W-what?” I squeaked, gasping when he finally pulled the blindfold off my head. I caught Jasper’s eyes for a fraction of a second, enough to see the small smile on his lips and the wink he threw in my direction before walking off. My heart sank as I watched him disappear into the crowd, taking a piece of my heart with him.
For once, just…stay with me,the words I so desperately wanted to scream died in my throat as if the universe was willing me to keep quiet.
As if some words were better left unsaid…