Page 118 of The Illusion
"Thank you," she says finally. "For this. For all of it."
"You don't have to thank me."
"Yes, I do." She leans her head against my shoulder. "You didn't have to help me. You didn't have to get involved. But you did. And I—" Her voice cracks. "I don't know what I would've done without you."
"You would've figured it out," I say. "You're stronger than you think."
"I don't feel strong."
"You are. Trust me."
She's quiet for a long moment. Then she says, "I'm so tired, Ryan."
"I know."
"I don't mean physically. I mean—" She sighs. "I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of thinking about him and what he did and how stupid I was."
"You weren't stupid."
"I feel stupid."
"That's different."
She doesn't respond. And after a minute, I realize her breathing has slowed. Deepened. She's asleep. I sit there for a while longer, making sure the fire is completely out. The embers fade to black, the heat dissipating.
When I'm sure it's safe, I carefully shift Julie off my shoulder and stand up. She doesn't wake. I scoop her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her back. I carry her to my car and settle her in the passenger seat, buckling her in as gently as I can. Then I go back for Jamie.
She wakes up when I lift her, blinking groggily. "Wha?—"
"It's okay," I say quietly. "We're going back to the house. Go back to sleep."
She nods and closes her eyes, her head resting against my chest. I get her into the backseat, buckle her in, and then I drive. The streets are quiet. Empty. The sun will be up soon. What a fucking night.
When we get back to the house, I carry Jamie in first. She's awake enough to walk, but I guide her to one of the bedrooms and help her into bed.
"Thank you," she mumbles.
"Get some sleep."
Then I go back for Julie. She stirs when I lift her out of the car, her eyes fluttering open.
"Ryan?"
"Yeah. It's me. We're at the house."
"Okay." She closes her eyes again, her head resting against my shoulder.
I carry her inside and down the hall to the other bedroom. I set her down on the bed as gently as I can, but when I start to pull away, her hand catches my wrist.
"Don't go," she whispers. "Please. I don't want to be alone."
I hesitate. "Julie?—"
"Please, Ryan.”
There's something in her voice—something raw and desperate—that makes the decision for me.
"Okay," I say. "I'll stay."
