When Reese returns to me, covering my body with his, he rests most of his weight on his forearms so that he can stare down into my eyes. Time passes—a fraction of a second or an eternity. It could easily be either one. Finally, he speaks.
“I’ve never met anyone like you. And whatever happens, I’ll never forget this perfect day, this perfect summer.”
I bury my face against his chest as Reese eases into me. He strokes my hair and whispers soothing things into my ear until the pain passes. I let him think I’m reacting to the sharp sting of his body piercing mine, but I’m not. It’s overshadowed by the agony I feel in my heart. Somewhere deep down, I know I’ll never see Reese again. As much as he might want to save me, he won’t. He can’t. He’s not strong enough. And I think he knows it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - Reese
Someone crying my name—literally crying—wakes me from my sleep. It takes me only a split second to realize where I am and who I’m with.
It’s Kennedy who is crying.
For me.
“Reese,” she wails again, her face contorted and a single tear slipping from the corner of her eye to travel down her smooth cheek.
“I’m here,” I tell her, drawing her into my arms. The agony in her voice is like a kick to the gut.
She buries her face against my chest, reminding me of that summer all those years ago. She did the same thing in the moments when she gave me her virginity, shedding her tears in absolute silence.
I cup the back of her head and hold her to me, dragging my lips over her apple-scented hair until she calms down. I know the instant she comes fully awake. She stiffens against me.
After a few seconds, I feel Kennedy’s hand come to the center of my chest and push. I release her, leaning back until I can peer down into her face.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine,” she answers casually. “Why?”
“You were crying and you said my name a couple of times.”
I see color bloom in her cheeks, a nice change from how peaked she was when I brought her here earlier.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“What were you dreaming about?” Kennedy lowers her eyes and I know by her hesitation that she’s going to tell me a lie. “Tell me the truth. Please.”
She glances back up at me, her eyebrows drawing together. “Why? Why does it matter?”
That’s an excellent question. But I have no answer. I don’t know why it matters; I only know that it does. “I need to know.”
Her guard, usually so ready and so solid, isn’t in place as firmly as it has been. I can see a softness in her eyes that isn’t often there. Maybe it’s because she’s still waking up. Maybe it’s because she’s been sick. Maybe it’s because I took care of her. Or maybe it’s none of that. Whatever the reason, her guard is down and I plan to take full advantage of it.
I raise my hand to brush the hair away from her cheek, just like I used to brush her bangs back all those summers ago. I see the recognition in her eyes.
“I was dreaming about that day in the woods.”
“Then why were you crying?”
“Because I knew I’d never see you again.”
“I never meant to hurt you, Kennedy. I was just a stupid kid.”
She nods and tries to smile. “I know. I had just hoped you’d be more.” She sighs and I can tell she’s preparing to move, but I’m not ready for this to be over yet.
“I thought about you for years after I left.” She watches me intently, making no comment. “In a way, I wished you’d given your virginity to someone else. Someone who deserved it.”
Her laugh is soft yet tinged with bitterness. “I wanted you to have it. It was the one thing of mine that I had left, the one thing I could give away. Before he took that, too.”
I have an immediate reaction to what it sounds like she might’ve meant by that. The blood leaves my face and my jaw gets tight. But surely she couldn’t be saying... “What do you mean?”
Kennedy’s face is open and sad, not guarded and tough like it has been since the moment I saw her again. “After Hillary died, Hank started…visiting me. At night. In my room. He’s why I would run and hide in the woods.”
The bottom drops out of my stomach. “Are you saying that he…he…”
I feel like the world is perched, perfectly still, on a pinhead, waiting for her to answer me. I pray to God that I’m hearing that wrong, but something tells me I’m not.
“That’s the one part of my innocence that he was afraid to touch. There would be proof. But that was the only part.”
I’m filled with a mixture of rage and disgust for what Kennedy’s father had done to her. It churns in my gut and burns through my veins. But I also feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Kennedy needed a decent person in her life, not another shitty man who would ultimately hurt her in another way.
She looks down at my shirt, fiddling with one of the buttons as she laughs, a hollow, heartbreaking sound. “Yeah, I used to think that you could save me from him. From life. From sadness and pain. But then I realized that no one could. That no one would. There was no Superman waiting to rescue me. I realized that if I was going to survive, I’d have to rescue myself. I couldn’t wait around for anyone else to do it.”
I release Kennedy and roll off the bed to my feet. I drag my fingers through my hair, feeling like I might burst into furious flames at any moment.
I pace the floor, at loose ends, not knowing what to do with my fists or my anger, not knowing how to deal with this new information. I’m so caught up in my own head, so deafened by the sound of my rapid pulse in my ears that I barely hear her quiet words when she speaks.
“I know. It’s disgusting. I couldn’t even go to his funeral, I felt so dirty.”
“Disgusting? It’s…it’s…” Words escape me. Then a thought occurs to me and I whirl to face her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Kennedy is sitting up in bed, her hair wild around her head, her eyes wide and tortured. “I didn’t want you to feel differently about me. I was afraid of what you’d think.”
Her words are like a battle axe to the chest. “What kind of a monster did you think I was?”
Her smile is small, but it is belied by the shimmer of tears in her big green eyes. “I didn’t think you were a monster. I loved you. I didn’t want you to know. It was as simple as that.”