Losing Grip

Chapter 21➷ Pair Me With Someone Who Doesn't Already Have a Boyfriend

I said nothing, even as he sat next to me on the swing, filling in the space where Riley had been, seconds ago.

Not a trace of her remained but her faint smile lingered in my memories, as would the smell of rain on the earth the morning after a downpour.

Avan glanced at me and I looked away, wishing he hadn't been there long enough to hear all my childish complaints. Maybe the brisk wind that rattled the chains of the swing had been loud enough to muffle my voice.

Night was falling and I could only hope the darkness concealed my expression the same way it hid his. Maybe he hadn't even seen me.

"Hey," he said.

'Hey'. That's it. That was a fairly ordinary word; maybe he hadn't heard me after all. I held on tightly to the silly hope that I could salvage whatever was left of my pride.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, mercilessly crushing every last bit of optimistic thought in my head.

No, of course I didn't want to talk about it! "Sure," I heard myself answer.

I clutched the soft cushion on the swing to gather the strength necessary to hold this conversation. "I was just, uh, well, thinking out loud. I'm sorry you had to hear this. I just—" Where were all the words I had spent years learning now that I needed them? "I don't even know how to explain it. Something just feels off about seeing you with someone else."

An awkward silence settled between us as he scrutinized me without saying a word. I didn't stare back and pretended I couldn't feel his gaze even though it seemed to bore through my skin.

I watched my cracked and bitten fingernails drum on a fluffy throw pillow, in dire need of a distraction. A large V was written in calligraphy and embroidered with interwoven loops of gold yarn strands.

My hand brushed over the stunning pattern and I tried to forget whose initial it probably was.

Why was I even still here? Maybe if I slowly backed away and sneaked back inside, he wouldn't notice.

"Victoria and I are just friends," he said without elaborating.

I supposed he answered with a similar sentence to Riley when the rumors first started. The simplicity of the sentence was both admirable and irritating. The truth could always stand alone without tortuous explanations but my inquisitive spirit yearned for better answers.

"I know," I said, then words that I wasn't even aware I was pondering slipped past my lips against my own will. "Seeing you two just unsealed in my mind the possibility that you may eventually move on. I know you deserve to and maybe some part of me hopes that you will. However, I can't help but think that if we move on, she will truly be gone. I don't know. I feel like she's alive in these memories I revisit daily and the second I stop thinking about them, she will die."

The same way I used to live off her stories, it now seemed like my memories were the only thing keeping her alive.

He shifted on his seat to face me and the swing inched forward with a protesting creak.

I finally dared to look at him. The dim light of the porch's lantern highlighted his dark hair with a soft glint. Something inside me ached at the broken eyes that stared back at me.

"Even if I did ever move on," he said, "even if I could, I would never forget her. Everything about her is sketched in stone in my mind. She's as much a part of me now as she was back then, eleven months ago. We exist together; she won't die until I do."

An irrepressible smile etched across my lips at the thought. 'Did you hear that, Riley?'

They were soulmates, after all, regardless of how many times she would vehemently protest against my word choice.