Page 4 of Haunt Me

Her mouth curves a little more, and God, it ruins me. That smile. Her taking comfort from the truth even now.

“I remember thinking I should say something,” she says. “That I should walk in and act normal, like it didn't matter.”

Her breath breaks. I feel it, and my hand moves over her back.

“Easy,” I murmur. “Take your time.”

She does. Barely.

“But I couldn't,” she whispers. “I just stood there and looked at you. And something in me knew.”

Snow lands in her hair, and I brush it away with careful fingers.

“I think I fell in love with you right there,” she says. “Before you ever even knew I was there.”

Raven struggles to catch her breath.

“Easy,” I say and rub slow circles on her back. “I’ve got you.”

“I didn't,” I tell her. “Not right away.”

She offers me a small smile, one that steals far too much energy.

“I fought it.” My voice gets rougher. “You were too young. You were my best friend's little sister. And I kept telling myself that was enough reason to stay away.”

Her body softens against me, and for one terrible second, I think it's happening.

“Raven.” The sound is strangled. "Don't go. Please keep breathing.”

Her chest rises. My relief is so sharp I almost get sick from it.

“I told myself I was doing the right thing.” I keep going because I need her to hear the words while she still can. “That I was protecting you. Protecting him. Protecting everything.”

I swallow hard.

“But I wasn't. I was just afraid of how much you mattered the second I realized it.” My grip tightens around her. “I was afraid. That's what it was. I was afraid of how much you mattered once I finally admitted it, and every time I walked away from you, every time I made you think I didn't feel it too, I regret all of it.”

"You loved me. In the only way you knew how," she whispers. "And then you loved me the way I needed.”

The words hit me hard enough that for a second, I can't breathe around them.

“I wouldn't change it.”

I shake my head. “I should've chosen you sooner.”

“You chose me,” she whispers. “Every time it mattered, you chose me.”

“It wasn't enough.”

“Yes,” she says, and there is so little strength left in her voice. “Always enough.”

I bend over her because I can't look at the sky or the trees or the snow. I can't look at anything that'll still be here tomorrow.

“And I'm still choosing you,” she says. “That doesn't stop just because this does.”

“Don't." My voice cracks on the word, but I don't care. "Don’t talk like that.” I press my mouth to her forehead. “Stay with me. Please, sweetheart. Just stay.”

Her eyes flutter. I feel the space before her next breath. I go still inside until she breathes again.