Nobody in Particular(48)

It’s not exactly what I expected her to say. “What do you mean?”

She blinks her eyes open. “I had someone say something similar to me recently. That I have no emotions, and my eyes are empty. Is that … is that true? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

Well, they sure aren’t empty at the moment. She seems so lost, so hurt, that I wish I could go back thirty seconds and take my words back. “No. That’s not what I meant at all.”

Rose’s is purposely not looking at me. I think, maybe, this is her being vulnerable. And maybe eye contact is a little too much for her while she’s doing that. So, I trail my hand along the trunk of the tree and follow it around to lean against it to Rose’s left side. Side by side, with neither of us looking at each other. All I can see is the dark, moonlit forest, and the star-filled sky above our heads, and the mist my breath is forming in the cold. I know we aren’t strictly by ourselves out here, but the darkness and trees have given us privacy, I think. As long as neither of us calls for help.

We’re basically alone, I realize.

“I think you have really nice eyes,” I say. “Sometimes I look at them and I don’t know what you’re thinking. But other times you have this sort of, almost secret look. Like you’re laughing just a little, and whenever I notice it, I have to smile, too. They’re not empty at all.” And then, before I can stop myself, I add, “I think you can see everything in them.”

She breathes heavily through her nose. Every part of me wants to move and put an arm around her, to comfort her and convince her to believe what I have to say. But I force myself to stand my ground and give her space.

“What did you mean, then?” she asks finally.

“I guess, I mean that I never see you sad, or angry, or embarrassed, or anything like that. And I just wasn’t sure if that was because you didn’t feel like you could be those things. So, I wanted you to know you can.”

“I can’t,” she whispers.

“You can, I promise. You can with me.”

“I can’t.”

I give up. I’ve said my piece, but I can’t force her to feel safe enough to share that stuff with me. All I can do is encourage her. But I wish she did. I wish I knew how to make her feel safe.

“Danni?” she asks into the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember when you told me you thought I could be good?”

“Yeah.”

“How?” she asks, her voice cracking.

Jesus. I know I promised myself I’d give her physical space, but I can’t help it at this point. It’s hurting my heart to hear her talking like this. I need to get closer for me just as much as for her. So, with my back against the tree still, I take a step to the side so our arms are pressed together from shoulder to fingertip. If she pulls away, I won’t follow.

But she doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, I just … I think you are a good person. I really do. So I don’t have any advice.”

She whispers her reply. “Then maybe you don’t see me clearly.”

“Or maybe you don’t,” I say. “Because I’m pretty sure I see you clear as anything, Rose.”

We stand in silence for ages, with no sound filling the air but our own breathing. Suddenly, I’m hyper aware of the sensation of her skin against mine, and the faint smell of her perfume.

“Danni?” she says. “I know they saw the photos.”

My brain must be lagging behind, because I’m lost. “Who?”

“The person I have feelings for. I already know they saw the photos of Alfie and me.”

I’m not allowed to read into this. I promised myself. She said guy, specifically, which means this isn’t going anywhere. Why is my heart racing like this? Stop racing.

I close my eyes and will myself to breathe. “How do you know?”

She takes ages to reply. Long enough that I think she’s decided not to. Long enough that, when her voice finally cuts through the heavy silence, I’m surprised to hear it.

“I started to say it, but then I panicked, and I lied. And now I’m going to tell the truth, and if you hate the truth, can we please pretend I kept lying?”

I don’t reply, because I can’t possibly get a single word out right now. I’m not sure I even remember how to speak at all.

“I know they saw the photos, because they congratulated me on them about ten minutes ago.”

I try to keep breathing, but everything stops, and all I can do is let my mouth fall open while my insides cave in and my whole world implodes. It’s not possible she said what she just said. I misheard it. I’m misinterpreting it. Somehow. I can’t think how, but I must be. Any second now she’s going to continue, and it’s going to be clear I was imagining things, like I always am.

But for the life of me, I can’t think of any other way she could have meant it.

So, I let my heart race. I manage to suck in a lungful of frozen air, and I let my mind fog, and I let my head turn to finally look at her. And she’s looking right back at me.

A part of me wants to take a step back still. A hard lump clogs my throat. I fully expect her to laugh, or worse, ask me what I’m looking at.