Eastern Lights (Compass 2)
Page 51
“Sorry, was I being too loud?” she asked.
“No, no. It’s not that.” I frowned and crossed my arms. “I just wanted to say you’re important.”
“What?”
“You’re important. I want you to know that fact to counter any person who’s ever made you feel as if your existence isn’t of value. This world is better because you’re here.”
She let out a low chuckle. “How did you know I was feeling unimportant?”
“Because even though I’ve only spent short amounts of time with you, I know you care and feel things deeply.”
She leaned against the doorframe. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid that before I die, I’ll never find my person, or my family. I’m afraid I’ll always be alone until my final day.”
“That’s not true. You’re a leading lady.”
“What if I don’t get the hero?”
“That’s fine, too. Contrary to popular belief, you can still have a happily ever after without another person being involved. Sleep tonight,” I ordered, nodding once.
“I’ll try.”
“Sleep tonight,” I repeated, brushing away the few stray tears that danced down her cheeks with my thumb.
“I will.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am.”
“Do you want me to sit with you? So you don’t feel alone?”
Her lips parted for a second before she shook her head. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. I’m okay. Really, it’s fine.”
That was enough to convince me she needed me to stay. She was terrified of loneliness. I saw how it was eating at her that night. I refused to leave her alone in that state of mind.
I walked into the room and sat down in the desk chair. She climbed into the bed and quietly thanked me for doing that small act. It was the least I could do. I couldn’t take away her pain that night. I couldn’t unplug the wild thoughts racing through her mind. I couldn’t even begin to understand an ounce of what she was feeling.
I did the only thing I could do for a woman who had been abandoned and left stranded alone. I did the only thing that felt right. I stayed.
16
Aaliyah
Daylight poured into the bedroom through the curtains, and I groaned as it hit my cheeks. I had yet to open my eyes, the pounding of my brain making me feel nauseous. I wanted to rip my head off my body for the way it was spinning. I was certain meeting the sunlight would only intensify the awful feeling.
I reached to my right to locate my phone, which I always plugged in at night and left on my nightstand but I gasped when my hand fell straight down instead of tapping the table.
My eyes opened, and instant panic hit me as I sat up in the bed, realizing it wasn’t my bed at all. Every hair on my body stood straight up as a strong panic began to overtake my whole system. Where was I? And whose bed was I lying on?
Then it all came back to me. The wedding. The night before. Connor.
I sat in his oversized T-shirt and gray sweatpants, which made my level of panic skyrocket to new heights. I started to recall the previous night, the ending of my relationship, the meltdown that came afterward, and Connor.
I glanced to the other side of the bed, where a nightstand was located. Sitting on it was a glass of water and a piece of paper.
I crawled over to and picked up the piece of paper.
Red,
You’re okay.
-Captain
I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror, which reflected my heartbreak in smeared makeup and tearstains. I looked like a raccoon with the eyeliner and mascara spread around.
The apartment smelled like bacon, which meant Connor was up and active. With slow movements, I walked out of the bedroom to find a huge, open space. His penthouse had an open layout that was modern and bright. The floor-to-ceiling windows were soaked in the sunlight that had awakened me.
“Hey,” I muttered to Connor, whose back was to me as he stood in his kitchen area, stirring something on the stovetop.
He glanced over his shoulder, which had a dish towel resting on it, and gave me a half-grin. “Morning, sunshine.”
What an ironic thing to say. There was nothing sunny about my shine.
He turned back to the stove, turned off the heat, and then walked over in my direction. I’d already found my way over to his kitchen countertop, where I took a seat on a stool and lowered my head to the island in complete defeat.
“Sorry I wasn’t in there when you woke up. I saw you stirring for a while and figured you’d be waking soon. I decided to get up and start breakfast.”
“You really stayed in there all night long?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Even the saddest parts of my soul felt warmth from that. “Thank you, Connor. I’m sorry, for everything. I’ll get out of your hair right away. I know I’ve been a burden, and I won’t be for any longer.”