Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“I guess I wanted to talk to you for a few reasons. One, because I think I needed to. I’m not brave like you guys are who talk every year. But I want to be. I want to be able to share my story and not have the shame of it hanging over me because there’s nothing to be ashamed of. We survived.” Sniffles greeted my impassioned words, and I believed them more than I ever had before. Daniel had been right. I was strong. I had survived even when I hadn’t wanted to, and that’s the hardest survival of them all. “Also, I wanted to let you know that I’m here. You are not alone. You are not surrounded by people who want to help you, but don’t understand you. You. Are. Not. Alone.”
More tears slipped down my face, and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. They fell too fast to stop them.
“We don’t have anyone,” one of them said.
“You have each other. You have Haven. And if at any point that doesn’t feel good enough, you have me. I’m slowly crawling my way through life, but I can feel the sun on my face the closer I get to the light at the end of the tunnel. I promise you, it’s there. And if you need me to crawl back through that tunnel to hold your hand through the dark, I will. I’ll go back every time because whether you wanted to survive or not, you did.” I held out my hands to either side of me and waited for two hesitant palms to slide against mine. “You were strong, and you survived the worst. You will survive this too,” I said, squeezing hard.
“Thank you,” one of the women said. I ached looking at her sunken eyes and bruised cheek.
I looked to each of them, meeting their eyes with as much fire as I could muster through my tears. “Thank you for being here. For giving Haven a chance, for giving life a chance.” Looking over their heads, I met Daniel’s eyes. “Thank you for listening to me and helping me.”
After we all mopped up our eyes, a few nods, smiles, and even a few hugs were exchanged. I told them to head to the kitchen where I brought a cake because sometimes every day needed to be celebrated. Before they’d turned to leave, Daniel had left. Once they cleared the door, I expected him to come back. I straightened magazines and almost tripped over the rug because I couldn’t keep my eyes from the door.
Had I imagined him the whole time? Had he not really been there? Had I needed him so much in that moment, that I’d conjured him, and now he was gone?
God, I needed him. No, I didn’t need him. If anyone taught me that, it was him.
I wanted him.
I wanted his arms and his love and his comfort.
I wanted to believe him.
I just wish he was there to convince me. To tell me it was all a mistake. I’d listen. I’d believe him if he’d at least try.
But he was gone, and I fell to the couch, defeated. My muscles ached from the week I’d put it through. I wanted his warmth by my side, and instead, I was alone.
More tears burned the backs of my eyes as my chest squeezed too tight, and I buried my head in my hands, too tired to hold it up. I’d thought he’d come for me, to fight for me. But he hadn’t.
He was gone.
“Is this seat taken?”
28
Hanna
The light shined through the window, illuminating his eyes, bright like the sky, softened with a smile.
“You’re here,” I breathed.
“Where else would I be?”
It’d been a week, but it might as well have been a year for how much I missed his voice. It washed over me, easing the muscles that had tightened with each second I thought he’d left me.
“I—” I swallowed past the lump working its way up my throat. Between the confession and seeing him, my emotions were on edge. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I thought you left.”
He moved around the edge of the couch and finally sat next to me, so close his leg pressed to mine.
“No, I’m right here, Hanna. Always here.”
I fought the urge to close what little space stretched between us and sink into his arms. But then I remembered why I hadn’t seen him, and the joy tainted with the hurt that had been lingering since the last time I’d seen him.
Sabrina.
That, and he hadn’t reached out to even try to convince me I was wrong. Maybe he didn’t want to.
“You haven’t been all week,” I said, sitting tall and inching back.
He dragged a hand through his hair and winced. “Because I’m a dumbass. I convinced myself I couldn’t fix this and that I wasn’t good enough.” He bent his head, waiting for me to meet his gaze. It pleaded with me to listen—to understand. “Hanna, I have no clue what I’m doing.”