Page 94 of Eight Weeks
“But—”
Sofia shakes her head, covering my mouth with her hand. “I do not believe a word she says. And I’d be surprised if you had a bet with her going about not catching feelings for me, because you lost that one at the age of eight.”
My arms sneak around her waist, pulling her so close to me, I fear I might squeeze her to death, but she isn’t complaining, so I don’t bother losing my grip.
In a moment like this, I do wonder how I have gone through life without her by my side. We’ve always had a connection, that much I am sure about. I just never understood how deep this connection could go, until I’m in her arms, relieved that she doesn’t believe whatever my crazy ex-girlfriend had to say.
If I had lost Sofia because of a lie… I wouldn’t know how to ever recover from that.
Having lost her once broke me. Losing her again will destroy me.
“By any chance, did you happen to bring some chocolate?”
Sighing deeply in faked defeat, I reach one hand into the pocket of my jacket, pulling out the same kind of chocolate bar she had wanted to buy when she first got to New City in October. “You already know I did, my little ketchup packet.”
After handing it to her, I reach into my pocket one more time, pulling out a pack of tampons. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt getting these too.”
Sofia is quick to turn one of her hands into finger guns, holding them up to my temple. “Any last words before I murder you?”
My jaw drops a little. “Here I thought I was being a great boyfriend and you want to kill me?” Girlfriends these days… can never make them happy. “I do have some last words.”
“Yeah? Better spit them out fast.”
“I lo—” She hits the imaginary trigger.
Alright, I’ll play.
I fall back on her bed, pulling her down with me. The package in my hand falls down to the floor, making for a super dramatic death.
My eyes close and I hold my breath for a whole five seconds before I rip open my eyes again, drawing in a deep breath like I was swimming up after being two whole minutes under water.
“Kidding, didn’t hit me,” I say, clamming my arms around Sofia’s body like some clamshell, not planning on ever letting her go again. “I have a bulletproof brain. It bounced right off.”
She laughs, once again to the point where these cute chubby cheeks start to show.
God, please let this be the last thing Isee before I die.
51
Sofia
“I always thought I would sink, so I never swam”—Malibu by Miley Cyrus
My hands are shakingas I stand in front of the house. The same one I ran away from years ago.
I promised myself I would face it. My fears. My past.
I want the future I’ve been promised. I want to grow old with Aaron, marry him in a couple of years and start a family. I want all this, but I know I will never have it if I cannot face what I ran away from first.
It’s easy staying in a city that seems to only have your walls cave in, at least when there is one thing that keeps you there. But I don’t want to be a burden to Aaron in the future.
For now, it’s fine. I can breathe without feeling like I am choking on air. But what will happen in ten years? What will happen in a few years, when I find out the only grandmother I have left has passed away?
Once she is dead, I will never find closure. I will never get answers to questions I’m not sure I have. Maybe one, but even just one question can change a person’s whole view on the world.
I refuse to promise Aaron forever when I cannot even promise myself not to run away when going gets tough.
Taking a deep breath, I lift my fist to knock but somehow my stupid knuckles just won’t touch the wood to make a sound. And when I try to ring the doorbell, my finger refuses to hit the button.
