Page 64 of Our Secret Moments
“I watched at least six. You could’ve told me how addicting they are, jeez,” I mutter, “Ten Things I Hate About You was my favourite, though.”
Her eyes light up, a child-like excitement taking over her whole face as her hands tighten at the nape of my neck. “That’s a good one,” she says through a giggle. The way her mind works, the way her mood changes from this happy sunshiny person to someone who looks like she’s lived an abundance of lives and is stuck in the one that wears her out the most, as if she’s simply existing. “My mom named me after Catherine Earnshaw. You know, the novel by Emily Bronte. She loved Virginia Woolf, too.She loved reading the letters between her and Vita Sackville-West. I think that’s what made her believe in love most.”
Her rambling is adorable. She gives me these little pockets of information, tiny pieces of herself that I just want to treasure forever. She doesn’t talk about her mom a lot. When she does, she gets this passive, longing look on her face and my soul aches to take away her pain. To take away the suffering she had from so young. I don’t even say anything for a while, taking in her quiet and sweet voice. “I know it’s a book,” I say through a laugh.
She pokes me in the cheek. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Did you want me to?”
She shakes her head lightly. “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Sometimes, I just like telling you things.”
“And I like listening.”
“Yeah?” Her tone is slightly apprehensive. I bring my hand to the side of her face, stroking my thumb over her cheek and she nestles into my palm, closing her eyes.
“I could listen to you talk all day, Cat, and I don’t think I’d ever get bored.”
“Do you really mean that?”
I swallow, my words shaky as I say, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life. When you talk to me, everything goes quiet. The noise in my head doesn’t exist anymore and it’s just… You.”
She scoffs, opening her eyes to meet my determined gaze. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You—”
“We could do this all night, sweetheart,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead and she softens beneath me. “You’ve got tostop doing that thing where you don’t let good things happen to you because you’re scared.”
Her eyebrows pinch. “I’m not doing that,” she whispers. Her voice lacks the conviction I would need to see she’s telling the truth. She’s a shit liar.
“You’re not?” I mock. She shakes her head. “Then let me be good to you. Let me be goodforyou, Cat. I know I messed up today, but I won’t do anything like that again. I would never leave you alone like that.”
“Okay,” she says. I press my forehead to hers, taking in a deep breath. “I really like you, Connor, like… a lot. And I don’t ever want to feel like I did earlier. Like you forgot about me. Like I didn’t matter to you.”
“I like you too, Catherine,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her forehead, sealing the moment. “So fucking much. You mean more to me than either of us could ever comprehend.”
The small smile that forms on her lips at my words is all I need for the rest of my life. Even when she’s finally fast asleep and I force myself to slip out of her bed, I still have that warm, fuzzy feeling weighing on my chest, just knowing that I have her through everything.
“Fuck!” I whisper-shout when I bump into my sister on my way out of their dorm. Shit. Shit. Shit. Nora rubs at her eye, her slippers with dog ears flopping on the floor as she squints at me.
“Connor? What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice heavy with sleep. Jesus, I don’t even know what time it is. I swear time just doesn’t exist when she’s around. It’s been that way since the day I met her.
“Uh, Cat passed out in the library, so I brought her back. She’s exhausted. I must have fallen asleep,” I explain, only half-lying.
Nora’s eyes soften. “Oh… Did she say anything to you? She was off this morning and I’m a little worried.”
My heart sinks. “No, she didn’t. Why?”
She glances back to Cat’s closed door and then to the bottle of water in her hands. “Her mom’s anniversary is coming up soon, so I know next week is going to be hard for her. So, if you see her around, just be nice, okay?
“I’m always nice to her,” I mutter.
She lets out a scoff, shaking her head. “Yeah,” she laughs, but I’m not laughing. She rolls her eyes before pushing past me. “Okay. Whatever. Just go home.”