Page 101 of Forever Mine
When I don’t respond, she comes around and sits down in front of me on the abrasive concrete. Her hands go to my knees.
“I’d like to help if you’d let me. I’m a good listener, or so I’ve been told.”
Her gentle smile helps alleviate some of the churning in my gut. How she can still form a beautiful smile after suffering all the awful shit she’s lived through just proves how fucking strong she is.
“You were the best listener,” I reply. “So, tacos?”
“The best you’ll ever put in your mouth. Let’s go and make Elijah a plate.”
The counter island is set up like a taco bar with all the fixings in their own bowls. Ry takes out a baking pan loaded with taco shells from the oven.
“Perfect timing. Babe, can you grab some plates?”
“Jay not eating?” I ask.
“He’s at a fight.”
Liz frowns as she takes four plates from the cupboard. The other day when she was here, Jay accidentally let it slip about the fights. Liz doesn’t get why he does it. Ry and I don’t like it, but we’d rather he uses his fists to deal with his shit than drink until he blacks out. Lesser of two evils.
“Have you taken your meds today?” Ry asks her.
“An hour ago.”
“Any headaches?” he asks me.
“Nope.”
Liz pops up on tiptoe and kisses him. “You’re worse than Daniel with the mother-henning. What does Elijah like on his tacos?”
I look at the spread laid out. Meat, lettuce, cucumber, shredded cheese, diced onion, fresh cilantro, a tub of sour cream.
“Everything except sour cream.”
“What about you?”
“Same,” I reply.
She scoots Ry out of the way, grabs six taco shells, and fills each one until they overflow.
“Thanks for the food. I’ll load the dishwasher later.”
Liz tucks some paper towels into my pockets. “You don’t have to do that.”
“You guys cooked, therefore I clean.”
“Not going to argue,” Ry says. “I’m staying at Elizabeth’s tonight. Call if you need me.”
Balancing the plate in one hand and bottles of water in the other, I kiss Liz’s cheek, then because I feel like it, kiss Ry’s.
“You know, I had a huge crush on you when I was nine.”
His dark-brown brows hike up. “No shit?”
Liz points at me. “You had your chance. He’s mine now. No take backs.”
I’m smiling all the way to the bedroom. Luckily, the door is wide open, otherwise, I’d have to do some major body contortion to turn the knob with my toes since my hands are currently occupied.
I quietly watch Elijah from the doorway. He’s reclined against the headboard, bare chested and wearing my gray sweatpants, talking to someone on the phone. It doesn’t matter that I see him every day. Every time I look at him, I lose the ability to breathe. I love him so fucking much, and it kills me to see him hurting. I don’t know what to do or how to help, so I take a lesson from him and do what he did for me. Love him unconditionally. Stand by him. Be his strength when he feels weak, his anchor when he feels adrift, and his light when he loses his way.
