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- Lucy -
He was being so sweet. I don’t think I’d ever seen him look so concerned, though when the cops showed up yesterday he looked pretty disturbed. If only we’d been having a conversation I actually wanted to have instead of one that made me want to disappear.
Of course, from the look on his face, the likelihood of me being able to disappear was extremely slim. He looked like he might never let me out of his sight again.
“It’s not that I was keeping it from you,” I said.
“Yes it is,” he said. “It’s exactly like that.”
“No it’s not. I keep it from everybody.”
“But I’m not everybody.”
I held his hand in mine, dragging my thumbs across his thick skin. “I know,” I said. “But it’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”
“You still should’ve told me.”
“There was never a good time.”
“Come on, Lucy. You could’ve mentioned it a hundred times.”
I sighed. “You’re right, but I didn’t see the point. You always thought I was strong and tough. I liked that. I didn’t want you to know the truth.”
“What? That you’re even stronger and tougher than I realized?”
I smiled. It was kind of him to spin it like that. “Once I stopped, I put it behind me. It wasn’t something I was dying to bring up.”
“I understand.”
“To be honest, I’d rather be anywhere else over telling you about it right now.”
“I didn’t ask to make you uncomfortable.”
“You asked because you were uncomfortable not knowing.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“So now you know.”
“Can I just ask you one more question?” He looked down at my hands around his, his eye lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
“Sure.”
“You never meant to hurt yourself… permanently, did you?”
“You mean kill myself?”
“Yeah.”
The pain in his face was breaking my heart.
“No,” I said.
“Cause some of those scars don’t exactly look like someone who gave themselves a few nicks with a razor if you know what I mean.”
“I know the one you’re talking about,” I said. “I overdid it once.”
