by Fiona Cole
I dropped my head to his shoulder and let it out, shocked that I’d managed to shove so much into that box. I’d gone to therapy. I’d accepted what had happened. I’d done my best to move on, but Daniel was right. I had so much anger, and he’d been the only one to see it. The only one to let it free.
Clinging to him, I took deep breath after deep breath, calming down a little more each time. He gently pulled my head up off his shoulder and cradled my face in his palms, brushing my hair back that clung to my damp cheeks. I could only imagine what kind of mess I looked like. But it didn’t matter because Daniel looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.
“You’re wrong, Hanna. You are strong. The strongest woman I know. You may not have wanted to survive, but you did. Not only are you surviving, you’re thriving. You are so beautiful and strong, taking what life gave you and working with it. I’m so proud of you.” His thumb brushed away the stray tears still slipping free. “Sofia would be proud of you.”
In that moment, in his arms, in the safety only he could give me, nothing would stop the words from tumbling out.
“I love you.”
It was as if my words froze him. Nothing moved. Nothing changed. He stiffened, and after a moment, slowly lifted wary eyes to mine. No, not wary. Scared. Daniel looked more scared than I’d ever seen him, and it was so far from the look I’d ever imagined seeing. Dread sank like the Titanic to the pit of my stomach.
Hesitance, confusion, regret, a way out. Those were all things I’d imagined. On the best of times, I imagined my love returned. But never had I imagined he’d be scared.
Each muscle I’d just relaxed, tightened back up again, and I looked away, unable to take it anymore. “I’m sorry. Shit. I shouldn’t have—”
“No. It’s okay,” he rushed to reassure. My heart buoyed just to sink back down when I managed to look up. Terror still marred his features, only now his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I, uh…”
The silence stretched until I couldn’t take it, on the verge of screaming for him to say anything just to end it.
Voices interrupted us, drawing his eyes to the open door. People were arriving for class. The gym was opening, and we were no longer alone.
Giving us both the escape we needed, I climbed off his lap, sad that he let me go. “We should get going,” I muttered, unable to look anywhere but the ground.
“Yeah,” he breathed, standing to collect everything.
The room weighed heavy with everything set free inside of it. Unfortunately, with everything I let go here, I’d be carrying another weight home with me. One I didn’t know what to do with.
While he packed, I ordered an Uber. The thought of sitting beside him in a small car was more than I could bear. It would be hell on both of us.
“You want to do breakfast?” he asked once we stood on the sidewalk in front of the building.
I wanted to scream, yes. I wanted so much, but while he offered breakfast, his stiff posture let me know the offer was more out of kindness than actual desire.
“It’s okay. I have to get to work.”
His shoulders dropped in relief, and I hated that I’d read him so accurately. “Okay. I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s okay,” I said again like a broken record. “I ordered an Uber. Our apartments are in opposite directions.
“Hanna.” He said my name like a plea. For what, I didn’t know. To not do this? To forgive him? To take it all back?
“It’s already done,” I said with a forced smile nowhere near reaching my eyes. The driver pulled up, and I opened the door.
“Hanna,” he said again.
I turned back before getting in, saying the furthest thing from the truth. “It’s okay, Daniel.”
We both knew it wasn’t, and as I drove away, I wasn’t sure it ever would be.
25
Daniel
“So, what do you think?”
I turned blinking eyes to Sabrina before looking back at the empty apartment around us. “Umm, it’s nice.”
“Right?” She practically vibrated with energy, but alarm bells were ringing.
“I was thinking we could put a down payment next month and move in by summer.”
“What?” I breathed.
“Yeah, I already talked to the office about it.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I think you forgot to talk to me about it.”
“What’s there to talk about? We’ve been together for years. This is the next step.”
“Sabrina…”
“I love you, Daniel. Don’t you want us to live together? Start our future?”
The spacious apartment all of a sudden shrunk to the size of a dollhouse, compressing my body with panic. I slicked my tongue across my dry lips, trying to control my breathing. Sabrina was my best friend. I cared about her, but I—I what? What did I want from this? Why couldn’t I just be honest with myself? With her?
She deserved it. She deserved the chance to be with someone who could love her. I cared about her…but if I loved her, shouldn’t I be jumping at the chance to live with my girlfriend?
“Can we talk outside?”
Honest. I had to be honest with her. She was my friend. She would want what’s best for me too.
The fresh air and sunshine didn’t help. She looked up with her brilliant green eyes, and I felt like I was choking. As much as I wanted to be honest with her, I needed to be careful. Sabrina was...fragile.
“Sabrina, I—I don’t know if I’m ready to move in together.”
“Why not? Don’t you love me? I know you don’t say it, but you don’t need to for me to know it.”
“I—I care about you so much.”
Her smile dimmed as realization sank in, but just as quickly, it came back more forced than ever. “Then next year. We can do the dorms for another year.”
“I don’t think a year will help.”
“Why not? Daniel, I love you. I—” The smile dropped completely, and she gripped my sweaty palms in hers. “I can’t do this without you. You have to love me.”
“I care about you so much. You’re my best friend.”
“Then I’ll love you enough for both of us. Daniel, you promised you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You are,” she shouted. “You’re abandoning me because I’m not good enough. God, I’ll never be good enough. Why bother? Why bother with anything? I’m a waste of air.”
She tried to jerk away, but I gripped her face in my palms and made her look at me. “You are good enough. You are good enough to be loved.”
“Just not by you?” she sneered.
Her eyes hardened, and I braced myself. Sabrina went through the full gamut of emotions when we fought—which had been more and more frequently since we started college. I tried to avoid it, but this felt like a freight train I couldn’t stop.
“I’m good enough to be fucked by you though. Is that all it was?”
“You know it’s not.”
“Well, maybe until you get your shit together, I’ll find someone else to fuck. How do you like that? If I’m not good enough to love, then you can’t fuck me either.”
“Dammit, Sabrina, don’t do this.”
“Do what? Act crazy? That’s what Kent thinks I am, so why not act like it?”
Fuck. Things were spiraling out of my grasp, no matter how hard I tried to hold on and control it.
“This isn’t about Kent.”
“What do you think, Daniel? Do you think I’m crazy? Is that why you won’t love me?”
“Sabrina…”
“You’re always going on and on about how I need help. How I should talk to someone, but why bother. I have you. Or I did have you.”
“You don’t need me. They have student services you can talk to. I’ve looked it up to help.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” she screamed. “I want you to love me like I love you.”
“Sabrina
, I—I’m so sorry. I care about you so—”
“Shut up, Daniel. Take me home.” And just like that, the fight seeped out of her. Her shoulders dropped as she swiped at her cheeks.
“Please, don’t do th—”
“Please.”
The drive was eerily silent, and I wanted to say a million things, but instead said none. I thought about lying and saying I loved her, but where did that leave us in a year? She needed help. She needed someone who really did love her.
When we got back to campus, I walked her to her dorm building, but she wouldn’t let me come up.
“Just know I’ll always love you.”
And she walked away before I could say anything else.
I downed the rest of my drink, staring at the blank screen of the TV. The only light came from the single lamp on the end table. I’d been too lazy to turn on more than that. I’d come home from work and sat on the couch, only moving to get more to drink.
That’d been my nights since Hanna had dropped her bomb on me.
I love you.
I love you.
Her sweet confession played on repeat and created so many emotions, I didn’t even know where to start. The most prominent that roared through me, washing almost all the others out? Fear.
The last girl who loved me killed herself. And ever since Hanna’s admission, Sabrina’s memory haunted me like it foreshadowed a future with Hanna. I’d seen the hurt in her eyes when I hadn’t said it back. The green had been achingly familiar, and I froze, terrified of repeating the past.
“Fuck,” I shouted, fisting my hair.
I’d texted Hanna every day, trying to get her to talk to me. I needed to know she was okay. I needed to know loving me hadn’t damaged her permanently. She rarely responded, but when she did, it was always an excuse to not see me.
My patience was running thin, and each night I sat on the couch fortified that I needed to talk to her.
I’d gone into this with Hanna because I wanted to help her, but now all I could think about was how I’d made it worse.
I always made it worse. I always tried to help, and I always made it worse.
I needed to talk to her.
I needed to end this.
I don’t want to end this.
It didn’t matter. Hanna deserved someone who didn’t freeze when someone told him they loved him. Hanna deserved someone who didn’t second guess his feelings.
Hanna deserved better.
She deserved better than a coward too scared to love.
Hanna
Daniel: Drinks tonight? We can meet wherever.
I stared down at the phone, wanting to send a hell yes back, but like every other time he’d messaged, I settled for a lame excuse.
Me: I can’t. I have to work late tonight and an early meeting.
Usually, he left it at that, opting to try again the next day, but not this time.
Daniel: Hanna…
Daniel: We need to talk. About what happened.
We sure as shit did not need to talk about what happened. I saw everything written all over his face, and it’d been painful enough. I wasn’t ready to hear it from the lips I loved so much. I was too scared to lose him, but I couldn’t go back to being just friends. I opened pandora’s box, and now it couldn’t be closed.
Me: Sure. Just not tonight. :)
The smiley face at the end wasn’t fooling anyone, but it didn’t stop me from trying to pretend all was just fabulous on my end.
“You okay?” Erik asked from his spot in one of the chairs around the table.
Shit, we ended the meeting a couple of minutes ago, and everyone piled out except Ian and Erik. Keeping up the pretense I was fabulous with them too, I waved his concern away and smiled. “Yeah. Just zoned out.”
“You’ve been working too late this week and coming in too early,” he scolded softly, dark brows lowered over green eyes just like mine.
“And how would you know?” I snapped. Between Daniel, and the emotional release from the week, my ability to bury my irritation was down.
“It’s my office, of course I know when people come and go.” I cocked a brow, knowing he made a point to check on me specifically. “Also, Jared has been working on a special project and staying late. He’s seen your light on when he leaves.”
I froze for a moment, letting the real meaning of Jared working late sink in. He worked for Bergamo and Brandt as an analyst…on paper. And did do that job. He just also surfed the dark web, hunting down anyone who advertised slavery. He and Erik had a system to find traffickers and take them down, rescuing any people they found and rehabilitating them at Haven. My chest squeezed that they were close to finding someone else.
Each time, I hoped it’d be the last, that maybe we got them all, but that was a joke, and each time, I remembered monsters still lurked out there.
“Tattletale,” I grumbled.
“I’ll let you know if we bring anyone to Haven,” he assured, knowing I liked to help. We had doctors of all kinds at Haven, but I liked to help them get settled if I could; buy things they needed. All behind the scenes work, too scared to put myself out there.
Daniel’s words about taking control before it controlled me crept through my mind, and I shoved them down. I didn’t want to think about that or him right now. Even though it was all I thought about.
“What’s really going on, Little Brandt?” Ian asked, plopping in the seat next to me.
“Nothing.” I tried laughing it off, but they both knew me too well.
“Does this have to do with Daniel?”
“What? No.” This time my laugh reached too high of a pitch with a scoff in between.
“What happened?” Erik asked.
I swallowed, calming my nerves, and going for a calmer, more believable tone. “Nothing. We’re just friends.”
“Does he know that.”
“Yeah. He most definitely does.”
“What does that mean?” Ian asked.
Taking a deep breath, I decided to give them the truth—at least part of it. “I want more, and he…most likely doesn’t.”
“Most likely?” Erik asked, leaning his palms on the table and glowering like this was some kind of interrogation.
“We haven’t talked about it.”
“Is there something that happened that would need to be talked about?” he practically growled.
I pursed my lips and considered just laying it out there, letting him know we fucked like bunnies, just to make him regret pushing me like he has a right to. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Maaaaaybe we don’t want to know, Erik,” Ian suggested lightly.
Erik’s lip curled up, and he rolled his eyes, pushing away from the table. “If he hurts you,” he said, turning back, finger pointed. “I’ll kill him.”
“Aye-aye, captain,” I mocked his deep voice and saluted.
Ian laughed behind me and ruffled my hair like he had since we were kids. Done with the questioning and older brother glares, I made my excuses and got the hell out of there, heading back to my office.
Flopping back in my chair, I heaved a sigh and dared to look at my phone.
Daniel: You’re avoiding me.
Daniel: If you won’t come to me…
What the hell did that mean?
I didn’t have time to consider it before someone knocked on my door. Clicking the phone off, I shoved it to the side. “Come in.”
And in walked the person I was just trying to avoid.
“Daniel.” Tingles washed over me when I caught his blue eyes, made all the brighter by the dark circles underneath.
“I decided to be a little proactive and come to you. This way, you can’t avoid me anymore.”
“Oh…” I looked away, shuffling papers and buying time to come up with a valid excuse out of this. My office was spacious, but the threat of facing him turning me away had the walls closing in. “I, um, I have meetings so I really can—”
“No, you don�
�t. I ran into Ian in the hall and asked.”
Shit.
“Come on, Hanna. Don’t try to put me in a box like everything else.”
My gaze snapped up at that. “I’m not shoving you anywhere.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair before almost closing the door.
“Leave it open, please.”
I needed as much air in here as I could get and having the door open would prevent me from flinging myself in his arms, begging him to love me, like I so desperately wanted to.
His jaw clenched, but he nodded and sat in one of the seats across from my desk. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But you have been avoiding me.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” I deadpanned.
“Hanna…”
Just my name and fire burned up my throat, stinging my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to hear him tell me I pushed too far and now he was done with me. I couldn’t handle it. I also couldn’t handle him asking if we could forget the words and go back to friends.
“I really don’t want to do this, Daniel.”
He watched me like I was a wild animal ready to bolt—he watched me like he was tiptoeing around my feelings. Like I was made of glass. Moisture built in my eyes, and I hated it. I hated that after everything, he saw me like everyone else did.
“Listen, we’ve been through a lot. What we’ve accomplished together in helping you, it brings two people close. We knew that going in, and that was why we set up the rules. I made a mistake in breaking them on our trip and continuing to break them once we got back.”
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. “I told you I don’t do love, Hanna. And maybe you thought what happened between us was more because you grew to lean on me.”
“Don’t belittle my feelings. Don’t make it sound like I’ve created this…transference.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
