Page 89 of The Gravity of Us (Elements 4)

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I replied.

He sat.

He stared.

He spoke.

“You’re sad.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“You’ve been here for four hours.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to give you space.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “I think you’ve had enough space, though. You can onl

y be alone for so long before you start convincing yourself you deserve to be that way—trust me, I know—and you, Lucille Hope Palmer, do not deserve to be alone.”

No more words were exchanged, but the feeling of wholeness was loud and clear. If only the world could feel the way our hearts beat as one, then maybe they wouldn’t be so harsh to judge our connection.

“This is a terrible first date.” I laughed, nerves shaking my vocals.

He reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a pack of licorice, and handed it to me. “Better?” he asked.

I sighed and nodded once before opening the package. “Better.” Being beside him always felt right to me. Like home.

In that way, I was different than Mama. While she always wanted to float away, my heart craved to stay beside Graham Russell.

For the first time in my life, I desperately wanted to stand on solid ground.

“You should call her,” I told Lucy as she went around the house, making up reasons to keep distracted. For months, she and her sister Mari hadn’t talked about anything but work-related issues, but apparently they’d had a big falling out over something a few days before. I could tell the issues were eating her alive, but she tried her best not to talk about it.

“It’s fine. We’re fine,” she replied.

“Liar.”

She turned to me and cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a book to finish or something?”

I smiled at her sassiness.

I loved that side of her.

I loved all sides of her.

“I’m just saying, you miss her.”

“I don’t,” she said, her poker face communicating the complete opposite of her words. She bit her bottom lip. “Do you think she’s happy? I don’t think she’s happy. Never mind. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Lucil—”

“I mean, he literally left her during the worst days of her life. Who does that?! Whatever, it’s her life. I’m done talking about it.”