Hold on to Hope

She stood facing away, the potent aura of this girl rippling into the space.

“Frankie.” I touched her shoulder, let my hand glide down her arm, begging her to turn around. “Please. Look at me. I need to hear you.”

Words were gravel. Hard and pained. The plea I’d made before she’d taken off Saturday night suddenly there, a barrier standing like a fortress between us.

“I love you, Frankie. Tell me you still love me, too.”

Shivers raced her flesh, and Frankie slowly turned around. Cinnamon eyes flashed, affection and fear roiling all the way down deep in the depths.

I couldn’t do anything but reach out and touch her face. Set my hand on her cheek. Run the pad of my thumb across her trembling lips.

She sighed with the action, her heat speeding up my arm and spreading across my skin.

“Hey, Unicorn Girl,” I murmured.

The tears she’d been holding back suddenly fell. “Evan.”

“Hey, please don’t cry,” I whispered. “I didn’t come here to upset you.”

“I know you didn’t,” she whispered back. She blinked a bunch of times. “But that doesn’t just erase what you did. And you keep coming back here . . . pushing into my life . . . and I don’t know how to handle it,” she admitted.

I wanted to kiss away every tear. Promise her that I would make everything better. Hold all her fears and her pain the way she’d always held mine.

Be the man she deserved for me to be.

But I had to prove it.

“Frankie,” I murmured. “Unicorn Girl. I never wanted to be the one to steal your sparkle.”

I let a tiny bit of tease fill the last. This girl who’d basically bathed in glitter and color and capped it off with ridiculous outfits.

Affection and grief crested her features, and I kept brushing my thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks. “I think that sparkle just shined brighter when you were in my life, Evan. That’s the whole problem.”

“I never should have gone.”

“No.”

I pulled my hands away so I could sign, so I could speak to her the way that I knew best. I’M GOING TO PROVE TO YOU THAT I UNDERSTAND THAT, FRANKIE. THAT I KNOW THAT I DID IT ALL WRONG. I’M GOING TO PROVE TO YOU THAT YOU CAN TRUST ME TO STAY.

I angled in closer, needing her to know. MIGHT TAKE SOME TIME. A WEEK OR MONTH OR YEAR OR MY ENTIRE GODDAMN LIFE. BUT I’M WILLING TO PUT IN THAT TIME BECAUSE YOU ARE WORTH EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Those eyes raced over my face, her fingertips fluttering up over the thunder at my chest. “And what if too much damage has been done, Evan? What if life has been so cruel and unfair to us that there are too many wounds for either of us to heal?”

I set my hand on her sweet face, splayed out wide like I could hold all those fears. “The cruelest thing that’s ever happened to me was having to live without you.”

Energy spun. Love spinning and spinning. Winding us tight.

I swallowed down the dread, just . . . needing to be up front because the truth of the matter was my life no longer looked the same. “And I don’t know what’s coming. I know you don’t know all the details about what’s happening with Everett. Hell, I don’t, either. But the one thing I need you to know is I love him. He’s my son. And I need him in my life, every bit as badly as I need you.”

“Evan . . . I . . . I . . .” She fumbled for an answer.

“I get it, Frankie. I know you have a boyfriend—”

Her head shook, cutting off the direction I was going. “We broke up on Sunday after we got back home.”

Didn’t mean to exhale a gust of relief as intense as a desert windstorm. But it was there, filling the room.

She shook her head more. “It wasn’t right . . . me being with him when I’m not over you.”

I leaned in closer. “You make it sound like you’re trying to get over me.”

She huffed a self-deprecating laugh though everything about it was tender. “I’m been trying to get over you for years, Evan Bryant.”

I edged forward, backing her to the counter, loving the way her breaths shallowed out and her heart beat faster. “Yeah? Well, I think you should give that up because there’s no chance of me ever getting over you. Then we’re even.”

“Evan.” My name was a whimper. “I just . . . need time. Need to find a way to forgiveness. You hurt me more than I think you know.”

But that was the thing.

I did know.

Because even if she only hurt a fraction of the amount I’d felt without her? There was no questioning that shit was brutal.