Page 56 of Be With Me
Control. I needed to get back in control.
“Romolo, look at me.” Mia’s voice broke through.
I blinked. I was back on my knees, soaked to the bone, heart hammering like it was trying to break free of my ribs. I couldn’t get enough air.
“I said leave me.” My voice was raw. She wasn’t supposed to see me like this. No one was. And no one had, not since that night.
I’d shut the emotional valve off inside my head back then, and it hadn’t opened. Not until now.
“I’m not going to do that.”
My eyes squeezed shut. Arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. Her wet cheek pressed against my own. She was as drenched as I was, but still warm somehow. Still trying to comfort me.
That night, I’d almost begged for this. I'd just wanted someone to hold me, to tell me it would be okay. But no one did. No one ever did.
I felt like I was choking on something. I didn’t know how to receive comfort anymore. Maybe it was like a muscle. It atrophied if it didn’t get used.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she whispered, her lips brushing against my cheek.
I shook my head. I’d never tell. Not her. Not anyone.
She pulled back slightly, her brown eyes searching mine. “You’re trembling.”
The words echoed in my head:“You. Can’t. Be. Weak.”
I jerked back, knocking Mia’s arms away. “Get away from me.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care if you don’t like it. I’m right here.”
After a moment, her hands found my arms and rubbed up and down in slow, soothing strokes.
Something cracked inside my chest. I couldn’t look at her. I looked down at my muddy hands instead and fought against my instinct to push her away from me again.
I didn’t know how to handle her touch, but it dawned on me I would like it even less when it was gone.
On each inhale, I braced myself. On each exhale, I relaxed.
She kept rubbing my arms, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
The cord around my throat began to loosen. Something welled inside me.
Rain poured down on us, unrelenting, but I didn’t care. It was better than being in the car, because being in the car felt like I was in a coffin.
Her hands stilled on my shoulders. “That’s it. Slow, deep breaths.”
I stared at her bare knees plunked into the muddy grass. I’d been an utter asshole to her in the car. And she was still doing what she always did—taking care of people.
I tried to summon some disgust at that. I couldn't. The truth was…nothing about her disgusted me. She just stirred up a whirlwind of strange, fucked-up emotions when she proved to me, again and again, that her goodness wasn’t fake.
Not even a little bit.
She held a mirror up to me and in its reflection, I saw all the ways we were different.
She helped people.
I destroyed them.
I kept my eyes on her knees until my pulse slowed. She didn’t rush me. She just sat there, her presence a quiet comfort, waiting for me to find my way back to myself.
