Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
He hadn’t said a word. He’d simply taken me by the hand and led me out of my bathroom and into my bedroom. He had me sit on the floor and he sat in my desk chair behind me while he braided my hair — calmly, efficiently, — all while I silently cried and wiped my tears away.
By the time he asked me for a hair tie to fasten the end of the braid, I was breathing steadier. I’d asked him how he knew how to do it, and he’d told me he used to braid Anneliese’s hair because her arthritis had gotten so bad and she missed having her hair braided.
I’d had a hard time not crying again at that.
Afterward, it just became ritual. Whenever I felt those talons of anxiety clawing at my insides, I’d find him, wordlessly handing him a hair tie and situating myself on the floor at his feet.
Tears stung my eyes at the memory, at the way my body and mind and soul found relief with his hands in my hair now.
This was what he was for me, what he’d always been — my rock.
Strong and steady and supportive.
Even when I was being a brat.
Aleks had unmuted the television, but I only half-listened to the weather reporter detailing the storm update. I was more focused on every brush of his fingertips against my scalp, my eyes closed, breaths coming easier and easier with each stroke.
“You used to love when I did this,” he mused behind me, his voice deep and quiet. “Said it brought you peace.”
A tear slid hot and fast down my left cheek, falling onto my lap before I could swipe it away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your questions when we were at the pier.”
My eyes opened at that, heart kicking up a notch from where it had steadied.
“I…” He cleared his throat. “Well, you know how I feel about myself, about what I have to offer.”
I heard him swallow behind me, his hands still weaving my hair as if it was like riding a bike, something he’d never forget how to do no matter how much time had passed.
“It’s hard to admit that I wish I could be better than I am.”
Crack.
I heard it as much as I felt it, that little hairline fracture in my heart. This man, my best friend… he would never see himself the way I saw him. He’d never understand how much good lived within him, how much he did have to offer.
“I don’t mean to sound trite, but… have you thought about talking to someone?”
The words sounded as awkward as they felt coming out of my mouth, but to his credit, Aleks didn’t laugh or scoff or brush me off like he had the right to.
“Therapy?”
I nodded.
He was quiet a long while, his fingers getting closer and closer to the end of the braid even with how slowly he was moving.
“Maybe I should,” he admitted softly.
When he finished off the braid, I pulled off the hair tie I always had on my wrist and handed it to him. He took his time wrapping it around the ends of my hair, his hands hovering even after it was fastened like he wasn’t sure what to do next.
The air around us grew heavier, thick with the electricity of the storm perhaps, or maybe it was something else.
Something that had always been there.
Something I would always wonder if he felt, too.
“I wish you’d talk to me.”
I closed my eyes at his words, letting them rumble over me just like the wind shaking the building we were in.
But I couldn’t grant his request.
Not when I had no idea what to say.
“I’m going to bed,” I whispered.
And I did so without another word or glance in his direction.
Chasing Dreams
Aleks
I woke to the sound of music.
I wasn’t sure I’d actually slept at all.
It’d taken me a while to leave the living room and retreat to my bedroom, a big part of me hoping that Mia would change her mind and come back to join me. When she didn’t, I’d spent at least the better part of an hour just staring up at the ceiling in my room, my entire body tuned in to the fact that she was just a few doors down the hall.
It was like when we were teenagers, except now, I didn’t feel welcome to join her. I didn’t feel like I could just knock on her door and hop up into bed with her, tease her about whatever song she was writing or ask if she wanted to go walk down by the lake.
She was in my condo, and yet she was a thousand miles away.
I blinked in the darkness of my room, reaching for my phone to check the time as the soft sound of piano music spilled in from down the hall. It was just past three in the morning.