Chapter 42
Griffin
This is a huge mistake. But the second that group chat popped up, I knew it’d be impossible not to talk to her. I wasn’t lying when I said I miss her so much it hurts. I walk around with a metaphorical limp, heart never having fully healed from being shattered two summers ago.
Inhaling a shaky breath when I park my truck in front of her house, my equally shaky hands text her to let her know I’m here. When she walks out of the front door, I can’t tell if my chest is trying to explode or implode–all I know is this girl is going to unravel me until my last breath.
My eyes try to soak in every detail, from the red tank top and cutoffs, to the high ponytail and the bangs framing her face–she has bangs now–to the quirky swing that hasn’t left her step.
It’s like no time has passed and I’m eighteen again, picking my girlfriend up for a casual summer Tuesday. God, I wish that were true.
She opens the door and hops up into the passenger seat, slowly and carefully buckling her seatbelt before finally, finally looking at me. My stomach bottoms out as my eyes meet the bright blue ones I’ve dreamed about every day since I last looked into them.
Without a second thought, I grab her face and pull her in, kissing her fiercely. My lips move against hers, and God I’ve forgotten how soft they are. I pull back, my breath ragged as I search her face for any sign of what she’s feeling.
“Griffin…” she whispers softly, a single tear running down her cheek.
“I know, darlin,” I whisper back, reaching up to swipe it away. “I just couldn’t help myself.”
Looking so sad and guilty that it breaks my heart all over again, she reaches up to stroke my cheek before leaning in to place a soft kiss on my mouth.
After staring at each other in utter silence for what feels like an eternity, I tear my gaze away and put the truck in drive, heading down the street without another word.
Muscle memory takes me to the lake, my stomach clenching at the memory of the first time she said I love you on this exact trail.
We step out of the truck without a word, walking down the path as if pulled by a magnet, straight to the bench that will always be ours.
We spent so many summer evenings at the spot where we began. I never thought we’d end up here again.
Eleanor stares at the folded hands in her lap, knuckles white from gripping them tightly.
I reach over and pry them apart, taking one in my hand and rubbing gentle circles on the soft skin.
Despite the front she puts on, everything about her has always been soft–even the snark and stubbornness and wit.
Not soft in a weak way, but the kind of sweet softness that starts in the heart and radiates outward.
She’s her own harshest critic, and looking at the turmoil on her face right now, I wish I could pick every negative thought out of her brain and replace them with the thoughts I have of her.
You’re the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met.
Everyone you meet is better for having known you.
You didn’t hurt anyone on purpose, we know that.
I still love you.
I’ll always love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
She squeezes my hand in response, laying her head on my shoulder without looking at me. I kiss the top of her head gently, reaching up to smooth her hair after.
“Why’d you wanna see me, Griffin? I’ve been nothing but awful to you.”
“That’s not true, darlin’,” I murmur against her hair, kissing her again. “When I called you earlier this year, you were ready to jump right into whatever mess I’d cooked up for myself.”
“It’s the least I could do,” she whispers, and I feel a wet spot on my arm as a stream of tears runs down her cheek and drips off her chin. “I owed you that much.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, tilting her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “I have nothing but love for you in my heart. No grudge, no resentment, no anger. Just love.”
“But you shouldn’t,” she says through gritted teeth, furiously wiping the tears from her face. “You should hold it against me, Griffin. I was a coward, and I hurt you, and I’m as selfish as I ever was.”
“You’re not selfish, Eleanor, you’re human.”
“Yeah, an awful one,” she says with a bitter laugh. “Even now, I’m pissed at you for not being pissed. I wish you’d yell at me, or hurt me back. That’s so much easier than this.”
“Not gonna happen,” I shrug. “And I’m not sorry about it. Does that count?”
“No, it doesn’t,” she sighs, laying her head back on my shoulder. “I just have to accept that you’ll always be a better person than me.”
I’m only a better man because I met you, darlin’.
“So what do we do now?” she asks, sneaking a timid glance at me. “Is this our closure? I know I didn’t give you any that summer. Is this how we say goodbye?”
“Over my dead body,” I bark, harsher than I intend. “Eleanor, this is me wanting to say hello again. We’ve lived more life, we know ourselves better. At least I do. Would it be so awful to give it a shot again? See if we can work this out?”
She looks at me full-on, face stricken.
“Griffin, I–”
“Before you say no, just think about it. We can take it slow, see how the summer goes. You don’t have to promise me forever.” I sound desperate, but I don’t care. “Please don’t make me spend another minute without you.”
She opens her mouth, then hesitates. Something like dread passes over her face, so quick I might have imagined it. She closes her mouth again, then nods slowly. For the first time in a damn long time, the weight in my chest isn’t so heavy.
“Okay.”
I pull her into my chest without another word, breathing a sigh of relief as I look out over the water, so still it looks like glass reflecting the blue summer sky.
“Okay,” I say back, gripping her tightly.
Maybe this time I won’t have to let her go.