Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Yes. I wasn’t sure if the word left my throat, but Worth turned his head to look over his shoulder, directly at me. Caught.
“Okay, Sam, you can come over. Think I’m done for now.”
“I…I didn’t exactly mean to eavesdrop.” I gingerly stepped forward. “I’m so sorry for the intrusion. It was your private moment and—”
Worth cut me off with a raised hand. “I knew you were there. I heard tires and guessed. Or rather, I knew. I could have stopped talking, but it was you. If my parents were here, I’d bring you around to see them. Wouldn’t be embarrassed to talk in front of you.”
“Oh.” I made a noise that was part gratitude, part sob. It sucked for us both that we’d never get that meet-the-parents moment. But knowing Worth would have wanted that meant everything.
“And maybe I kept talking because I don’t want to have secrets.”
“I don’t either.” I plopped next to him because standing over him felt awkward. Buttercup roused enough to stick her doggie snout out for pets from me. The sun was starting to fade, with pretty pink streaks across the late evening sky. “And you’re right. You did the best you could with what you had to work with. You were Marta’s and George’s age when your mom disappeared. Still a kid in so many ways.”
“I had a lot of growing up left to do. I needed…guidance.” He pursed his lips as his forehead creased. “No, that’s not it. Parenting. I needed parenting. Needed some adult influence, yes, but my parents specifically. And I haven’t really ever let myself feel that loss, to actually miss them.”
“Oh, Worth.” I put an arm around him, gratified when he didn’t flinch away. My eyes burned for all the years he’d tried so hard not to give in to his feelings. “It’s absolutely okay to miss them. That’s what grieving is.”
“I didn’t know how,” he said softly. “And they deserved to be missed, but I didn’t know how. Another thing I failed at.”
“Not understanding how to deal with everything you were feeling is not your fault,” I said firmly. I kept my voice even, trying not to reveal my anger at the unfairness of a world that hadn’t let a lost boy grieve his mom and dad. “Give yourself grace. Maybe forgiveness is a goal for the future, but you can start by being gentler on yourself.”
“Yeah. I’ll try.” He huffed out a warm breath as his head landed on my shoulder. “More bubble baths, fewer guilt trips.”
“I know a tub.” I gave a rusty chuckle. “But there’s also a lot of great tubs in the world.” I stared off into the dimming horizon. Sharing the realizations I’d had earlier was hard, each word scraping against tender parts of my soul. “I like my tub here, but it’s not the only option. I think I tried too hard to impose my own needs and wants on you. If something terrible happened to me, I’d want to stay right here, hunker down further, but maybe that’s not what you need.”
“Something terrible did happen to you, Sam.” Worth took my hand in his. The strength and sturdiness of his grip made me tremble for reasons I didn’t fully understand. “If it’s okay for me to grieve, it’s okay for you as well.”
“I was a little kid.” My voice was as shaky as my hand in Worth’s. Seeming to sense my fragility, Buttercup moved to place her head in my lap, soft ears perking up like she was on guard to do battle for me. “Sienna was ten years older. Her loss was more about my parents. It wasn’t anything like your ordeal.”
“Is there a limit on grief?” Tilting his head up, he gave me a pointed look. “I might be learning this whole grieving business, but my group counselor likes to say that hardship isn’t a competition. Everyone has their own burdens, you included.”
“Oh.” The word floated across the cooling night air.
“You spend so much time trying to reduce others’ burdens. Maybe you forget you have them too?” Worth squeezed me closer against him.
“Yeah. And maybe that’s why we’re so drawn to each other.” Perhaps my heart had recognized a fellow griever even if I hadn’t consciously seen myself that way.
Worth nodded. “We both faced a lot of internal pressure to be perfect.”
“Huh.” I rubbed my jaw with my free hand. “I meant more about both having lost someone important, but you’re not wrong. I’ve never really thought about my life that way.” I raked my teeth over my lower lip. There was a fine line between ambition and pressure. I liked to think of myself as a natural do-gooder, like I’d come out a born social worker. But how much of my personality and goals were shaped by my past? “I’m right where I want to be, but would I be here if Sienna had lived? I guess that’s one of those unanswerable questions.”