Page 60 of How You See Me
“You just needed someone, and I was there.”
“It’s far more than that, Hayes. You showed up. I know what it’s like when no one does. To be let down by the people who are supposed to care.”
I feel him watching me, supporting me, but I don't dare look at him.
“I think I’ve been pretending to be fine for too long. I thought that if I could laugh loud enough or sparkle bright enough, the nagging void inside me would feel less endless. Sometimes, it works. But I can't find my way out of the darkness, when I can’t be bubbly and perfect all the time, people usually back away. Like I’ve violated some unspoken rule.” I swallow the nerves trying to steal my courage. “You didn’t do that, and I’m grateful.”
He holds my gaze, reading my soul and secret thoughts like he’s experienced what I have firsthand. He’s not judging me or avoiding my emotions. He’s not afraid of my fragility or how I may need him because of it. He protects that part of me with everything he has.
We sit like that for a few more stuttering heartbeats, hands connected, content and natural. I'm not thinking about anything outside this moment. The world feels distant. Muted. Like it’s giving us time to find ourselves again, maybe even each other.
I close my eyes. Not from feeling overwhelmed, though maybe I am. But more because for the first time in years, I feel safe enough to.
I want to remember this. His hand in mine, the smell of pancakes and firewood, the hush of morning when everything appears new and possible again.
The fire pops, cutting through the contented rhythm we found, and he squeezes my hand.
“Whoever those idiots are, they don’t deserve your tears.”
The wetness on my cheek registers, and I swat it away.
“Eat,” he says, rescuing me again by changing the subject. “We have plans today.”
I take another bite of my delicious red velvet pancake with rainbow sprinkles, seeing my travel companion in a clearer light. I peek at him while he puts out the fire. His dark green T-shirt is worn at the edges, like he is this morning. With his eyes and jaw shadowed, it’s obvious he’s tired, but he remains steady. Always steady.
“You made plans?” I ask, trying not to think about how I may be the reason he didn’t get much sleep last night. "We're not leaving?"
“There’s a concert nearby this afternoon.”
“That sounds fun. Who’s playing?”
“I forgot the name of the country music band. Melody something.”
I sit up so fast the back legs of my chair come off the ground. “Melody James?”
“That sounds right.”
“It’s not a band, Hayes. Melody James is the number one female country artist right now, and one of my favorites. I can’t believe she’s here.”
“Does that mean you want to go?”
“Of course, I do. Think we can get tickets this late?” It would be a shame to be this close and not get to go.
“No ticket needed. It’s a charity concert for wounded veterans. Anyone who donates gets in until they reach capacity, but I hear the field is huge. We’ll get in.”
“This is so exciting, and it’s for veterans. She’s the best.” With the news, my appetite surges and I take another bite of pancake. “Did you know her younger brother is in the Army? He writes all her songs. I think they’re from Virginia, too.”
“When you’re ready, we can head that way and claim the best spot.”
“If I didn’t know better, this might sound like a date.” I shouldn’t be flirting but I struggle to ignore my curiosity on a good day.
He treats me like I’m different. Like he wants more but is holding back. Despite all my claims about loving my single status, I can’t help but want it to be true.
He doesn’t flinch. “We both know Jordan would have my head.”
“He is a little protective, but—”
“A little?”
