Page 72 of Best I Never Had

“Is everything okay?” I ask, noticing her sudden hesitance.

“Yeah,” she answers somewhat unconvincingly.

“What is it?” I ask, gently coaxing the truth from her.

She sighs, followed by a small smile that isn’t really a smile at all, as it never reaches her eyes or her cheeks. “There was a reason I asked you to come over today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she answers, looking up at me as her eyes downturn even further. “Today is Matteo’s and my anniversary.” She pauses, twisting her fingers and gnawing on her lower lip.

“Oh,” I repeat myself, this time pouring more understanding than curiosity into my voice while cringing at the mention of her ex. “Are you okay?”

She nods, her head bobbing up and down through a tight-lipped smile. “I thought I would be really,reallybad, but I’m actually handling it better than I thought.”

I smile back, mirroring the up and down of her head as her smile warms.

“I guess…the reason I’m telling you is to say thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” I ask, my brows bridging together, confused.

“I feel like the reason I’m okay today is partly because of you.” She reaches her hand toward me, grazing against my covered arm as she tilts her head to the side. “Not just today but a lot of the days. I think I’m okay because of you.”

I shake my head, brushing off her gratitude with something between a smirk and a scoff, enough for her to know she doesn’t need to thank me.

“Nat,” I say softly. “You know you can call me. Anytime, anywhere. I’ll always be there for you.”

She looks at me, the hesitancy that causes her to avoid my eyes now spreading through her hunched shoulders. While she doesn’t say anything, she nods. She nods in a way that shows any situation where I can be more than just a name on her contact list would be tentative. I wouldn’t be the one who would come to her rescue, the first person she thought of when she had to call someone. But I need to be. Ineedto be that person to her.

“I mean it, Nat,” I push.

She nods again, her head bobbing a bit more assertively, with a smile that peeks through her teeth pressed into her lower lip.

I clear my throat, standing from the couch as I smooth my hands down my sweatpants, making sure I have everything before I leave. I move silently, replacing the cushion that I distorted while leaning against it and smoothing out the extra throw blanket I used. Natalia stands as well, slowly following my steps as she walks me to the door.

“Are you glad we did this?” She lowers her head, looking down at her fingers twisting at the hem of her sweater again as I turn my back against the front door. “This whole ‘calling each other when we’re lonely.’ Are you glad we did it?”

When she looks back up at me, she has doubt written all over her face. Her small smile is the only appeasement from the apprehension she’s oozing.

“Why do you say it like that? Like I would say no?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I just want to make sure that you’re not doing this because you feel sorry for me.”

My brow furrows. “Nat, why would you think that?”

“Because of my breakup,” she explains, her shoulders dropping as the inner corners of her brows turn up. “I don’t want you to do this because I’m some heartbroken mess that you think you need to fix. Even if we have fun.”

I reach for her hands, placing my much larger one over her two that are overlapping each other. My thumb runs over her pinky as I attempt to console her. To make her realize that nothing about the time we spend together is out of pity. It’s actually the furthest thing from it.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” I say softly. Maybe a little too softly that she doesn’t believe me. “I think you’re incredibly strong for not letting Matteoshatter your world. And I think that even though you believe you’re fragile and so close to giving up on love, you aren’t.”

“I’m not?” Her eyes twinkle as they look at me, so full of hope and expectancy.

My head shakes side to side, just enough for her to know that I disagree with this idea of herself. This perception that she’s broken, closed off from true love. Because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You shine, Nat,” I whisper. “You glow so brightly, and you don’t even realize it.”

Her presence lights every room, every dull place she walks into. Like the sun peeking through the clouds at sunset, when you can appreciate its beauty without it being overwhelming. That’s the thing with Natalia’s light; it’s subtle. You only see it when you learn to appreciate it hidden under her layers. In a way that she reserves that light for those that earn it. But when you do earn it, learning how to peel back those layers, it becomes the light that guides all of the warmth coursing through your body.

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