Page 18 of You Found Me in the Dark
She turned in her seat, facing me fully now. Her hand came up, slow and unsure, and landed gently over mine on my lap.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to.”
“You are my hero, Reed. You have been since that night on the beach so many years ago. You found me then, too. And on the bleachers. Now this?”
I grabbed her hand and smiled, unsure of what to say next.
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He hadn’t said anything back, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, or maybe I was breathing too fast. Like my body couldn’t decide if I was supposed to fall apart or hold on to him.
My chest rose and fell frantically, a panicked rhythm that didn’t match the stillness in the car. His eyes were still on me. My hand was still intertwined with his, and he didn’t move.
God, what was I doing?
What was he doing?
He could’ve just driven me home and dropped me off. Pretended like none of this had ever happened. But he stayed with me. Again.
He saw me.
It felt like he had always seen me. Even when I wished he wouldn’t have. Even when I tried to smile through the storm and pretend I was fine. He looked past it.
I looked at him, and all I could think about was every version of me he’d ever witnessed. The confidentone who joked too loudly. The fragile one that I thought I hid. The wreck tonight who kissed someone she shouldn’t have just to prove she was still whole.
The girl who couldn’t stop shaking. Who wanted to disappear but didn’t want to be alone. Who didn’t want to talk but needed someone to listen anyway. Who fell out of love with her only passion because a man told her it was a waste of time.
And he still, throughout it all, stayed.
“Reed…” I said, but it came out as a whisper. Like my voice had cracked under the weight of the entire galaxy on my shoulders.
He turned a little more toward me. “Yeah?”
“I’m not okay.”
“I know.” His eyes met mine, and he gave an emphatic look.
“I thought I was. I wanted to be.” Truth is, I’d spent years telling myself I was fine. Faking it didn’t seem to help the disconnect I felt with the world. I was ready to move on from the constant heartache. I was ready to be happy.
His brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I felt stupid, embarrassed, and ashamed before you showed up tonight. Then I saw you. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was just… tired.”
He gave my hand a small, gentle squeeze that grounded me. It was like he’d pulled me back down to earth with that simple gesture. Like I’d been floating in panic and shame. His hand reminded me where I was and who I was with. I was safe.
I dropped my forehead against our joined hands that now rested on the console between us.
The heat from his skin soaked into mine. I let myself feel it. The warmth, the quiet strength in him, was the only thing keeping me from drowning in my thoughts. The best part was thefact that he didn’t pull away. He just let me exist, messy and hurting, without rushing me through my feelings.
“I’m so tired, Reed,” I said softly. “I am tired of being strong. I am tired of not being happy. I am tired of not feeling like myself.”
“You don’t have to be strong with me.” His voice was soft and steady.
I looked up again, tears threatening to fall. I knew I could trust Reed.
