“There you go. That’ll be $17, please.”
We both stand up from our stools, the motion bringing us chest to chest. I’m trying my best to control my breathing, succeeding, but poorly. My heart is still beating a little too fast, and my chest rises quickly and irregularly.
I release an annoyed sigh and start searching my purse for my credit card, but he stops me by grabbing my wrist, and our eyes clash again. He gives his card to the barman with his free hand, letting it rest on the counter afterwards, effectively caging me in, his gaze not leaving mine making my breath hitch.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “To hurt your self confidence. But I’m not sorry for what I did. Call me a selfish asshole if you want, but I heard some of them speak about you. Their intentions were clear and I couldn’t see you hurt. But you should have understood that you were never the problem. They were. For being lying assholes who were willing to do anything just to fuck you, even pretending they cared. You’re perfect. Your soul is beautiful. Your talent is a gift. There’s nothing wrong with you. And I don’t care if I have to tell you how incredible you are everyday of my goddamn life, you will wrap your head around it. I’m sorry for hurting you. But never for what I did back then. And I’ll kick Jack’s ass for not telling you how beautiful you are and letting youthink for one moment that all that happened because there was something wrong with you.”
I’m going to faint, right here and now. Because my lungs can’t get any fucking air and I’m frozen in place, staring at the mixture of anger, worry, and confusion swirling in his eyes. I’m not sure when and how, but his hand is not circling my wrist anymore, his fingers are interlacing mine.
Is there something I’ve been missing? He’s been speaking too low for all this to be an act for others. I’m not even sure they’re paying attention to us anymore, as I can’t seem to look away from Nate.
Nate who says I’m beautiful. Just wearing my work clothes and barely any make-up.
Jack never said I was ugly, but he never said that I was beautiful outright. Sometimes, when I dress up, yes, but never on a regular day. And I don’t blame him. We were raised in a family that never said these kinds of things.
Nuri did smack me on the back of the head every time I talked myself down. But she was living far away, and I’ve just learned to not say what I was thinking about myself in front of her.
The curse of being raised in a large family who never really cared about one another. You learn to hide how you really feel and never talk about it, bottling things up until you’re just a mess of unchecked emotions. So you don’t become a problem to others. And those emotions become a problem for the future you.
And now I’m an emotional mess, unable to regulate and understand how I feel most of the time. If a feeling hits me too strongly, my first reaction is to try and lock it down. Harder to do with each year. Now, when it happens, there’s a 75% chance that I just end up bursting out. Uncontrollable tears, my body shaking, or getting downright depressed for a few days.
And right now, my mind is all over the place. I’m not sure what to do between laughing hysterically or crying at the realization that no one has actually ever told me that I’m beautiful.
And no, my exes’ “You’re so hot” sex confessions don’t count.
That’s another sad realization.
“There you go,” the barman says, interrupting my freaked out overthinking brain.
Nate finally turns his face away from me to grab his card, pocketing itin his back pocket before getting both our drinks from the counter, handing me one, just as our eyes meet again.
“Let’s join our friends,” Nate says in a low voice, sliding a hand in the small of my back to lead me away from the bar.
I feel gazes on the back of my head. Probably Raph’s and the others that I almost forgot were here the whole time. Did they hear us? Did they listen when I snapped at him? Will they realize that our little play was all a scam?
My thoughts are interrupted when I meet Jack’s eyes, and I gasp, my own eyes going wide.
What—
“What are you doing out of your chair?” I ask, freezing on the spot, Nate bumping into me from the sudden stop, his hands finding my waist to stabilize us.
Jack beams, leaning to the side to grab the armrest of the small couch, and push himself up, standing to his full height.
Oh. My. God.
I haven’t seen him standing on his own for—well fuck, I don’t even know how long.
“Surprise,” he says with a kind smile, spreading his arms in front of him.
I take a few hesitant steps forward, and I’m engulfed in a tight hug the second I’m in his reach. Jack. Standing. And hugging me. It’s been so long since he’s actually hugged me like this.
“How?” I ask, because I can’t think of anything else.
“Let’s say, Nate here is a mean but efficient one and couldn’t be satisfied with just helping me with the pain. He said he would put everything out of my reach in the house if I didn’t try to walk a little. We started after the downpour was over, and it got a little better every day,” he pauses, pulling back just enough to look at my face with a smile. “Maybe you could join us for a walk tomorrow?”
“A walk? Hell yeah, I will!” I’m trying my hardest to hold the happy tears from falling down my face.
My brother. So lonely and in so much pain just over a month ago, now surrounded by people and actually getting better enough to walk and smile sincerely.
