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“You never looked at me,” I whisper painfully.“For three years, all I wanted was a look.”
“I looked; I just made sure you never saw.”
“Why?” Why not look at me with hate if you wanted me to leave so badly?
“I didn’t want to give you hope in me. I changed.” His fingers curl around my shirt,“I wanted you to hate me because I hate myself for how I acted. I knew if I looked at you, if I noticed you, that you would stop everything and try to fix us. I didn’t want to be fixed. I don’t deserve it, Poppy. I wanted you to move on without me. And when you did, when I heard you were looking for a new job and wanted to move, I was so happy and…”
My tears soak through his shirt. I know he can feel them now.
He continues,“I was devastated too because I knew it meant I lost you, but it was a different loss than Peter. Peter died, but you were leaving me to live.”
“I could have lived with you,” I sob.
His shoulders shake,“You try to save people, Poppy. Not everyone deserves to be saved or have a second chance.”
His words hit me. Hard.
I gave Andrew too many second chances. First after he verbally scolded me, then after the physical blows. When I was finally willing to give up on him, he wasn’t going to let me go.
“I just needed to know you were safe, so I asked Theo to look out for you,” Henry says.
“It should have been you.”
“I know, but as strong and hard as I look on the outside, I’m so shattered within. It was easier to see you from afar. I didn’t have to see you smile and think of when Peter, Mom, and Dad made you laugh; I didn’t have to see you cry and remember how you cried at Mom and Dad’s funeral. I’m a coward.”
You are.
So am I.
“I forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“If I didn’t, then I’d let evil win. It wants to tear us apart, and I won’t let it anymore.” I hug him tighter.
For a few heartbeats, we just hugged each other, filling the gaps in the past three years.
***
The fire marshal allowed us to move closer to the house. We can start to sift through the rubble tomorrow, and by then, the soil should be cool enough.
Julian's on the phone with Theo, but I know his eyes haven't left Henry and me as we make our way closer to what was once our home. I can't stop shifting my gaze from the house to Henry. I've lost something but gained another.
“There’s nothing left,” I whisper. I swing my foot around and kick the damp soil.“There’s no point in looking even.”
“That’s not true,” Henry looks down at me.“We have each other.” He taps his temple.“We have memories. They can’t be burned away.” He takes my hand and looks at what used to be the house.“We’ll make new memories.”
“That sounds like light in a dark tunnel.”
“Then hold onto it,” Henry replies.
If the trade-off for losing my childhood home was getting Henry back... well, I can live with that. It’s not going to be easy, but we will make new memories. We will buy new items that we attach memories to, and I’ll get to set those material things aside and start a new collection.
“I don’t want you to hate yourself, Henry.”
“I don’t want you to blame yourself either,” he replies.“What happened to Peter was an accident. I don’t blame you. I...”
I look up to find him squeezing his eyes shut. All that guilt I feel floods back; it feels like someone is chasing my feet, trying to trip me, so I fall, and the emotions swallow me whole.
