CHAPTER 4

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"Are you okay?" Ophelia whispered.

Caleb pulled his gaze from the stars and stared at the mountain peaks silhouetted against the night sky. He inhaled a shaky breath.

"No." He dropped his gaze to his lap.

Heat rose in his face, causing his ears and forehead to burn. He'd never expected to have an emotional breakdown, especially in front of a stranger—and a girl, at that. Caleb already knew how pathetic he was, now Ophelia knew, too. But part of him felt all right about the breakdown; it allowed him to be physically close to another human. It also allowed him to release some of the weight on his chest that had made it hard for him to breathe. A hollowness still resided between his ribs, but he felt more free.

Let her think you are weak. It'll keep her at a distance.

As embarrassed as Caleb was, he didn't want to push her away. The warmth of her body, and the feel of her arms, gave him comfort. He liked the connection.

Ophelia loosened her grip and positioned her body so she sat across from Caleb. She grabbed his hands and dipped her head until she caught and held his gaze. He wanted to turn away and hide his shame, but he was pulled into the depth of her eyes. They held sympathy, understanding, and a desire to help. He stared into her eyes and felt his mouth pulled downward into a deeper frown.

"You don't have to be okay, Caleb." She spoke softly and sympathetically. "You've been through a lot and have seen a lot of terrible things. You don't always have to be strong."

Caleb huffed. "How else do you survive, if you aren't strong?"

A small, sad smile crossed her lips. "There's a difference between surviving and living. And if you're just surviving, you're missing out on some amazing things."

"But I'm protecting myself from a lot of pain."

Ophelia gently rubbed her thumbs against the backs of his hands. "You can't have the good without the bad."

He dropped his gaze back to his lap. "Seems like all I have is bad."

She placed her hand on his cheek. "Nothing can last forever."

Her hand was warm against his skin and as soft as rabbit fur. He wanted to press his cheek into her palm and wrap her in a hug, but he couldn't bring himself to move. It felt like too much, too soon. He didn't want to seem desperate and needy, despite the fact that part of him was. He thought of Jan, and the time he'd spent with her at Marjorie's, when he'd returned to the city after being in the zombie ghetto. While he hadn't shown as much emotion to her as he'd just done Ophelia, the desire for a connection was the same. She had re-bandaged his arm when the bite had still been fresh and raw. The act had been compassionate and kind, but also full of heartache and loss. He'd known Jan had lost loved ones and had wanted to ease her pain, but he couldn't. His biggest regret was not hugging Jan, for not reaching out when he'd had the chance. Would it be the same if he didn't do that with Ophelia?

"I get it, Caleb. I really do. You watched countless people die. You lost your family and friends. You're alone. You don't understand what's happening to you, and worst of all..." she trailed off.

Caleb waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he lifted his gaze. When his eyes met hers, she continued.

"Worst of all, you think it's better to stay unattached. Pushing people away is as easy as shooting a zombie in the head. But that's not living, Caleb."

He tore his gaze away from her and pulled his head away from her hand. "It's not as easy as you make it sound to open up to others."

It was so hard to live when everyone he had ever loved had died. For some reason, it seemed disrespectful. It felt more appropriate to be miserable and unattached, because he imagined that was how everyone else was spending their eternity.

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