14. Lydia
Lydia
Weeks have slid by, and if someone were to tell me that I had imagined everything that happened, that it was just some dark, twisted nightmare, I might actually believe them. Eli has been nothing but kind, gentle, and endlessly patient since then.
I haven’t seen a hint of anger from him since that night, the night I’m desperately trying to erase from my memory.
Even though some nights when I close my eyes, I’m right back there in that car.
Some dreams I have blend seamlessly between the pain he caused me and being eight years old again, after the wreck, looking out at my dead parents.
Sometimes when I look out of the car, I don’t see my dad lying there in the road…
I see Eli. I always wake up gasping from those nightmares.
I don’t know what they mean, or if they mean anything at all. I just want them to stop.
I know things aren’t the same, not really. There’s still a shadow lingering between us, something fragile that could break at the slightest touch. But I’m holding on to things being okay again.
Eli’s been crushed by his parents’ divorce and his mom telling him that she’s moving out. It’s consuming him and slowly chipping away at his confidence and happiness. I just want to fix him…and bring back the happy, loud, fun boy I met.
We’re sitting on the edge of his bed when he tells me that his mom told him she wants him to meet her boyfriend, the one she cheated with, the one she’s now dating.
I can tell how much it hurts him, how much it’s messed with his head and made him feel replaceable, something he constantly tells me he’s afraid of happening with me.
“It’s just so messed up,” he whispers bitterly. “How can she just move on like it never mattered? Like my dad meant nothing? Like our family was disposable?”
I reach for his hand, wanting to do anything to ease his pain and comfort him. “I’m sorry, Eli. You don’t deserve this.”
His eyes lift to mine, hurt and searching for a way that I can fix it for him. “You’ll never do that to me, right? You’ll never just leave me for someone else?”
There’s no anger in his voice, only a desperate fear I wish I could erase. “Never,” I promise. “I would never do that to you.”
He nods and then sighs. “I just—sometimes I get so scared.”
I pull him close, running fingers softly through his hair. “I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”