Page 67 of Beneath Cherry Blossom Memories
“Veronica’s kid?”
I nod. “Yeah. She’s…she’s perfect.”
“You’re such a sucker for a cute baby.” A small smile curls over his lips before it drops, and that blank expression returns.
“I like kids.” What the fuck am I doing here?I like kids? Really?I claw at random shit in my head, hoping to snag on something I can use to find out what happened tonight, but come up with empty hands.
“Are you excited for the tour?”
Like he gives a flying fuck about my band or music. I slide my palms over my thighs, swiping off some sweat. “Not really,” I admit anyway because I have to try. If he wants to talk about unimportant crap, so be it. At least he’s talking. “Never been to Europe before.”
“You’ll like it. Especially Italy.”
I frown, then it dawns on me that he knows our schedule because of Leon. FuckingLeon.It’s so hard not to be angry. Like, comeon. Are we really going to pussy-foot around the elephant in the room? I face him more, twisting so my knee comes up on the pullout. He’s nibbling on his lower lip, peeling the dry skin off with his teeth. While I’ve been silently battling back hostility, he’s been scared.
Eli isnervous.
Is this how I made Oli feel? Terrified to even look at me because he knew what I was thinking? How hard was I judging him? If the tables were turned, I can’t say that I would react any differently. Being under someone else's microscope gives me hives and makes me want to projectile vomit. I don’t like being picked apart as is, and I would rather no one ask me anything so I can keep it all locked inside.
And it hits me like a freight train.
This small talk is a shield. A protective barrier to keep me and my shittiness as far away from Eli as possible, but it’s also leaving a sliver of it down. A way in.
An olive branch.
He glances at me since I’ve just been sitting here…staring. It’s brief. A dodgy flash of blue irises, but it’s enough. I see it for what it is. He wants something but doesn’t know how to ask. For all I know, it’s probably just a simple kindness. Something he’s been denied. SomethingIhave denied him.
Gingerly, I brush a few locks of hair from his cheek, and his breath hitches. “It was an accident,” he says, lip wobbling, so I stroke my fingers across his forehead. His eyes flutter shut as he shakes. “I didn’t mean to cut so deep.”
I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood. He leans into my fingers slightly, craving me. “I think this is my rock bottom,” he whimpers, a few tears sneaking free.
Sucking in a breath, I wipe them away and tell him, “Then there’s only one way to go from here.” He glances at me, eyes shimmering behind translucent droplets. “Up.”
Eli
What's Wrong
Every inch of me begs to leave again.
My stuff is at the hotel.
Things I know I’ll want andneed.
But Phoenix isn’t yelling. He isn’t berating me or demanding. It’s…fuck, it’s something I didn’t realize was missing from us. Even before the accident, he was always trying to figure me out almost aggressively versus just letting it happen. And I never wanted to open up because fuck that. Being afraid of your romantic partner is a hideous feeling.
The part that always kept me around, though, is that he doesn’t even realize the power he holds. How one shitty look from Phoenix can make or break a person as fragile as I pretend not to be. I fell apart tonight. I completely lost my fucking mind. Whatever numbness I’d been trying to achieve never happened, and I’ve never been more afraid that I’d die than I was a handful of hours ago.
He keeps touching my face while I cry, which I don’t want to do, but I can’t seem to hold it in anymore. The shit with my aunt threatening me did me in. I can admit it secretly. The only other time I lost control like I did today was when I set her house on fire…with her still inside it. I don’t remember what I took or how I even ended up in that shitty trailer park, but once I saw it…
It’s been too long to find a damn lighter. Too long for any evidence. She’s fucking with me. Shesawme do it. And I guess instead of throwing my ass in jail, she figured it was better to milk me dry and take over the last piece of myself I had. I don’t think I’m a murderer…or an arsonist, though the facts say otherwise. I hoped she died that night. I wanted her to. In my fucked up mind, I guess it made sense. She couldn’t haunt me anymore if she didn’t exist. The voices would stop, and the pain would vanish.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Phoenix says softly, his fingers feather light and gentle. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, expecting the worst. My arms stiffen, and my legs cramp. After all, thisisPhoenix. He won’t be able to keep his prejudices or warped head out of it.
“This whole time,” he takes a breath and closes his eyes, “I’ve been doing it all wrong.” His hand drops from my face and settles in his lap. “I guess I lost sight of what drew me to you in the first place.”
This isn’t what I was expecting. “What do you mean?”
