Page 43 of All the Things We Buried

I turned toward her. Her eyes found mine in the dark.

“No, you don’t.”

Maybe she had once. Maybe before. But not now. Not with me here.

I reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered longer than they should have, trembling. I didn’t pull her close. I didn’t kiss her.

But God, I wanted to.

And I knew how wrong it would be.

So wrong.

“I won’t always be here, you know.”

“I know.”

“You’ll forget me.”

“No, I won’t.”

Her hand slipped back into my lap. I took it gently in mine.

My palm could swallow hers. I could’ve crushed the bones without even trying. She was so small, so fragile. It almost made me smile. She was like a doll. Short, fragile, beautiful.

“You think you won’t,” I said quietly, “but you will. You’ll grow up. Move on. Find someone else to talk to at two in the morning.”

“I don’t want someone else,” she said, blinking up at me.

“I’m not a good person,” I told her. “If you ever really knew me, you’d run.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You say that now.”

I stood first. She followed right behind me, like gravity pulled her closer. The space between us vanished. Her knee brushed mine. My eyes dropped to her lips. And for a moment, I wanted nothing more than to pull her in, kiss her, and never stop.

But I stepped back.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I muttered, raking a hand through my hair. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why?” she asked, eyes wide, waiting.

I didn’t answer.

I turned and rushed inside the house.

Because how could I tell her the truth?

How could I tell her that if she got too close, I would never let her go? That if I ever tasted her lips, I wouldn’t allow anyone else to? That if she were mine, I would mark my territory all over her skin so no other man would ever dare to touch her?

And as fucked up as it was, as much as I wanted to die before, because I was alone, when I met her, I wanted to live again.

I wanted a house. A normal life. A family. And even though I knew I’d never truly have it, I held on to the hope that maybe I could have it here.

So I stayed.

If she couldn’t be mine, I could at least protect her. Even if I stayed silent. Even if I were just a ghost haunting her at night. Maybe I could make friends with all the monsters in her head.