“Tasmyn…” His eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily. “We can’t—we shouldn’t do—this—based on desperation.”
Heat flooded my face, and shame and humiliation battled in my heart. It wasn’t in my nature to be so bold or assertive when it came to our limited physical relationship. We had made the joint decision early on that neither of us wanted to rush into anything that we weren’t ready to do, and we were always careful to avoid prolonged time together in completely private situations—temptations, as Michael called them. But tonight felt different.
“I didn’t mean to—to push,” I said softly, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought you wanted it, too.”
“Tas, you know I did. I do. Don’t look away.” He rolled onto his side and put his fingers beneath my chin. “I’m not upset. But I don’t want us to—to
fall
into this. It’s a decision, and one we made right at the beginning. If that changes, if one of us changes how we feel about it, then we need to talk about it.
“And even though every bit of me wanted to keep going tonight, I know… if we did this tonight, how would I ever leave you tomorrow?”
I knew he spoke the truth, and some spark of realization rose to the surface. Was that why I was pushing for this, because in some part of my mind, I saw it as another way to bind him to me? It was a disturbing possibility, one I was almost afraid to share with Michael.
I drew in a deep, fortifying breath. “I think somewhere deep inside me, I knew that. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I was that kind of girl.”
Michael traced my face with the very tip of his finger. “Tas, you’re not. I know you didn’t set out to do anything tonight. And I’m not saying there wasn’t a moment—well, maybe longer than a moment—when I thought, why not? But when we do have our first night together, I want it to be special. Not because we’re both afraid of losing each other. Not because things are changing. But because we’ve made the decision, deliberately.”
I nodded, unable to trust my voice. I knew there was more to my own motivation, and I had to share it with Michael, even though I wanted to bury it.
“I think… you’re right. I’m scared. There’s a part of me that’s afraid of you going away and being around all those girls who will be more than willing to give you—to do what we almost did. And how can I compete with that?”
He groaned and lay back again, not answering me out loud right away.
Tasmyn, to me, there IS no other girl. There never could be. Since the first day I saw you, I haven’t seen another female—not in that way. How could I? You fill my heart, my mind, my senses. There’s not room for anyone else. And that won’t change, no matter how far away I am or how long we’re apart.
“Tas,” he began. This time I rolled to my side and put my finger over his lips.
“Shhh. I know. I heard. I want to believe that. It’s not that I don’t trust you. But I still can’t quite accept that I’m worthy of you, and of your feelings. I still think you’re in some kind of trance and once you get away, you’ll realize it really isn’t me, after all. That I’m not the one you’re meant to love.”
“If we’re going to get through this, you have to trust not only in me, you have to trust in yourself. If you can’t imagine what I see in you, why I love you, then just… listen. And look. Concentrate.”
He closed his eyes, holding my hand tightly in his. I did the same, focusing on his mind, which was always so open to me. And beyond his murmurs of endearment and declarations of love, I caught an image. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was myself I was seeing—and that I was seeing me through his eyes. There was only beauty there, and softness, and compassion. The pictures shifted, changing slightly, and I realized that he was remembering the past year. Most were happy, laughing recollections, and then one came into focus that made us both sober. I saw myself lying on the forest floor, bloody and bruised, white and still. I felt the sense of anguishing loss that Michael had experienced for a brief time on that day. Tears came to my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of understanding.
“I thought that day that I’d lost you,” Michael murmured. “I never, ever want to feel that again. I’m not losing you. You’re not losing me. We’re moving to the next part of our life together. It’s just another phase, and it’s going to bring us closer to where we want to be—together. To a time when we’ll never have to say goodbye again.”
“I don’t know if I can be strong when you’re not here,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine being here without you.”
“You’re stronger than you know, Tasmyn. You’ll be all right. And remember that you’re not going into a new place. You have friends at school, and you have the nursery. My mom and dad will be here for you, whenever you need them. And of course, I’m always just a phone call away.”
“It won’t be the same,” I mumbled.
“No, and maybe some of that is good. Last year was a big change for you. You came here, you made friends, and you’ve been learning how to manage your mind-hearing in a new way. Now you have the chance to keep it going. If I stayed here, maybe you wouldn’t be forced to step out on your own so much. I want you to have a perfect senior year. Experience it all. I’ll be learning about college life, and then next year…” He smiled as he rolled over to face me, so that his eyes were very close to mine. “Next year, we’ll be together again. And I think, even though it’s going to be tough, that we’ll be better for it. Stronger.”
He leaned in and kissed me then, in the lightest, most tender caress.
I tried to cling to those words the next morning, as Marly, Luke and Michael loaded the car. I had spent the night at the nursery, bunking with Lela in her room. I had tossed and turned all night, but as far as I could tell, I hadn’t bothered her. Still yawning and sleepy now, she perched on the deck, watching all of the bustle with amusement. I kept as busy as I could, packing and loading, never stopping to think or feel.
When it was finally time for them to leave, I steeled myself to send him off with a smile. Michael pulled me close to him while his parents discreetly looked away.
“Remember what I said,” he breathed into my ear. “Be strong. Never doubt me. Never doubt us.”
“I will. I’ll remember. You, too.”
He kissed me, quickly but with great meaning and banked passion. The tears crept up behind my eyelids, but I pushed them back, and I concentrated on hearing and treasuring every word he was thinking.
Finally, he pulled away from me, with a last squeeze of my arm. He was blinking as he looked down at me.
“I love you.”
And then he was gone, climbing in the car with one last wave to Lela. Marly blew me a kiss, the sympathy in her eyes spilling over into the feelings I absorbed so easily. The car pulled away, into the woods and then out of sight.
I couldn’t move, but suddenly, neither could I stand. The cold reality of Michael’s leaving hit with a force that robbed me of breath, and an iron fist gripped my heart. The pain was real, and it was unbearable. I dropped to the ground, gasping.
Lela was next to me instantly. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea.”
“Can’t…” I tried to suck in air. “Can’t move.”
I felt Lela’s concern ratchet up into real worry. “Come on, sweetie. You can’t stay out here. We need to go inside. I’ll help you.”
She managed to pull me to my feet and up the steps. I fell into the first kitchen chair I saw. Lying on the table were Michael’s keys to the Mustang, tossed casually there for me.
The sight of them broke me. I lay my head on the table, and everything I’d been struggling to keep deep down inside rose to the surface. And the dark took over.
The first few days after Michael left passed in a blur. I had promised to stay at the cabin with Lela, so that she didn’t have to be out in the woods by herself, and afterwards, I could see the beauty of the plan. With Lela, I didn’t have to pretend or put on a happy face as I would have done at home with my parents.
After my initial crying jag had passed, leaving me numb, she bundled me into blankets on the sofa and turned on some television talk show. I lay staring at the high ceiling until oblivion overcame me, and I slept.
When I woke, the light was different, and I panicked. I sat up and cast my mind around the cabin, searching for Lela. I finally picked up her thoughts, muted and concerned, and I called her name.
She appeared in the doorway from the hall, smiling brightly. “Well, hello, lazybones! I thought you were going to sleep the clock around.”
“What time is it?” I asked, still trying to orient my thoughts.
“It’s after four. I was just getting ready to head down to the nursery and see about closing up.”
I frowned in distress. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to stay up here and babysit me all day.”
“It wasn’t a problem. I had lots to do, and it was kind of nice to have some time on my own.” She perched on the edge of the sofa and peered at me, still trying to mask her anxiety. “Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten all day. I arranged for dinner to come over.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Dinner’s coming over?”
“Yes. I was just—” There was a knock at the door, and Lela laughed. “Matter of fact, that’s probably it now.” She sprinted over and threw open the door.
Anne staggered in, arms full of bags. “I hope everyone’s hungry, because I have enough food to feed an army. Hey, Tas!” She greeted me smoothly with a smile, but I heard what she was thinking quite clearly.
Lela was right. She looks terrible.
I tried to keep my face expressionless, but a wave of pain hit me. Sleep had dulled the hurting temporarily, and now it returned full-force. I fought the urge to bury my face in the pillow.
Anne began to unload the food, keeping up a steady flow of chatter. When she paused for a breath, Lela glanced at me.
“I’m going to run down and just close up. If you two get us set up here, we can eat when I come back, okay?”
Anne waved her off. “Sure, go right ahead. Tas and I will pull out the plates and everything. Just hurry or there might not be anything left. I’m hungry!”
I watched Anne dart around, laying out vast quantities of food. She was chatting about her job at her mother’s hair salon—mindless little vignettes about amusing clients—when she suddenly stopped short and turned to me.
“Tasmyn? Are you listening at all?”
I blinked at her. “Yes, of course I was.”
“You look as though you’re a million miles away.” Anne plopped onto the sofa next to me, drawing up her feet beneath her.
“I’m just… just listening.” Anne frowned at me, and I hurried to change the subject.
“Did Lela ask you to come over?”
Anne had never been very good at fibbing, and I would have spotted the look on her face even if I hadn’t heard the stuttering in her mind.
“I wasn’t going to let you two have all the fun out here, a girls’ night without me! I invited myself.”
I pressed my lips together. “She shouldn’t have done that. I’m fine. I hate to take you away from Jim.”
Anne flicked her hand. “He was in complete agreement with me coming over. Besides, it’s not like I can’t see him any time.” Anne snapped her mouth together, as if realizing what she had just said.
I closed my eyes and tried not to see the car driving away again. “It’s okay, Anne. I just have to deal with it.” Weariness washed across me again.
“Well, tonight we’re going to have fun and not think about anything serious,” Anne promised. “Strictly girl stuff. Junk food, music, gossip, whatever.”
That was indeed the order of the evening. Lela returned from the nursery bright and cheerful on the outside, still trying to hide her concern for me.
“Where’s the food? I’m starving!” she announced, dropping her bag on a chair near the door.
“Right here. We’re all set. Tas, come on, grab a drink and sit down.”
I pulled myself from the couch, filled a cup with water and joined Lela and Anne. They were spooning Chinese food from various containers onto their plates.
“All your favorites, Tas,” Anne pointed out. “Broccoli and chicken, lo mein, won tons…”
I tried to muster up some enthusiasm from the numbness within me. “Thanks. It looks great.” I put a little of each on my plate and poked at it with a chopstick.