All Of Me

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 40

“I love you.” His voice is a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” 2

“I know.” I clasp my hands tightly together, my nails scarring my skin. “But that’s not enough. You can love someone and still hurt them.” I think back to what Tad says, and I find his words pouring out of me. “You hurt me and I still love you,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean I owe you my love. It just means I’m going to need time to get over you.”

My hands are shaking. I grip my mug and bring it to my lips, almost spilling hot chocolate down my chin. “I gave you a second chance. You broke my heart.”

He grips his hands in front of his mouth, his eyes watering. When he dips his head, his hair falls in his eyes. He doesn’t push it away for a moment. Not until he looks up at me. “Is there anything I can do, Storie?”

I’ve asked myself that question a lot. I’ve prayed for there to be answer, for there to be something he can do to take this weight off my heart, to let me love him without the guilt that comes with it now. But I haven’t found the answer. I don’t think there is one.

“No,” I murmur. “Maybe this could’ve worked out if we’d met some other time,” I say, if only to pacify myself. “Maybe it’ll work in the future. Maybe this has just been a lesson we both needed to learn.” I shrug and try to hold myself together. I try to drag back that feeling I had on New Year’s Day, when I was so sure of myself, surrounded by my family. But they’re not here right now. It’s just Liam and me, and everything between us. 5

He sniffs and briskly wipes away a tear the second it falls, blinking to stop the rest from following. “I’m so sorry,” he says again. I finish my drink. The sound of the cup on its saucer is deafeningly loud. “I’m so sorry, Storie. I’m so sorry.” 20

“I know.” I put my hand in the middle of the table. He takes it, clutching it in both of his. We sit like that for a long few seconds. “I forgive you,” I say, slowly pulling my hand away. “But I can’t be with you.” 122

It takes everything I have to walk away. My feet don’t want to move but I have to go. I have to leave him. If I can walk away now, when I want to wipe the slate clean and sink against him and tell him it’s ok, then I can do anything.

I don’t look back. I can’t bear to turn over my shoulder and see him sitting there opposite an empty seat. 1

• • •

By the time I make it to the bookstore, I’m frozen through. My coat may protect me from the worst of the cold but it’s just about thirty degrees and the rain that started trickling while I was with Liam soon turned to hail that pelted my skin. In the absence of an umbrella, or even a hood, I just had to deal with it.

Gray is chatting away to Navya while she stocks shelves in the back, away from prying eyes that would tell her to get her work done alone and in silence, and they both gasp when I turn up as bedraggled as a drowned cat. My hair is plastered to my cheeks, my coat a burden, laden with rain, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my lips are turning blue. I can’t even feel them.

“Jesus, Storie!” Gray leaps from his perch on a feature table that Navya has emptied to switch out the books.

“It’s raining,” I say, my voice shaking.

“No shit!” 3

I laugh, struggling to unbutton my coat when my fingers are numb despite gloves, and I let him take over with nimble fingers. “I left my umbrella in the car,” I mumble, flexing my hands to bring back some feeling. “God, it’s cold out there.”

Gray takes my coat and thankfully my sweater beneath is mostly dry, and the bookstore always has the heating turned up way higher than necessary. Usually I hate it, when stocking books ends up a sweat-inducing activity, but right now it’s more than welcome. I drop into an armchair in the corner, reserved for curious customers who want to peruse their options before they make a purchase, and I let out a sigh that feels like the world is seeping out of my lungs.

STORY CONTINUES BELOW

“How was it?” Gray comes over to sit on the arm of my chair, his hand on my shoulder and earnest eyes gazing down at me. “How are you?”

“I’m ok,” I say. I press my lips into a thin line and re-evaluate. “I will be ok. It was hard.” Pushing my hair off my face, tying it into a fat, wet bun, I say, “It really sucked.”

Gray rubs my back and bends over me to hug me, and I bury my damp face in his neck. He smells so comforting, a mix of the bookstore and Navya’s gentle perfume and the detergent Mom prefers. That smell alone is enough to calm my frayed nerves, to remind me that everything really will be ok. I have Gray and Mom and Tad and Kris.

Navya comes over and sits on the opposite arm, she and Gray like a pair of bodyguards in the exact room where I first met Liam. “Is it over?” she asks, her voice low and soft.

“It’s over.”

“How did it go? Did he take it ok?”

“Mmhmm. He … he took it, I guess,” I say. “He cried. He kept apologising and he kept asking if there was anything he could do and God, I wish there was, but all I could think was that he lied twice. And I just don’t know how easy it would be to carry on after that. I don’t think I could really trust him. There’d always be this undercurrent of doubt.” 1

“Guys suck,” Navya says, rubbing my cold hand. Gray hums his agreement. “I don’t say this enough, Storie, but you’re a fucking amazing person. You’re so kind and thoughtful and strong. You deserve someone who appreciates that.” She holds up her hand and says, “I know he did eventually, but his motivation was disgustingly off base. You, Storie Sovany, are a queen.” 52

• • •

It’s dark long before Gray and I get home, carefully driving back under a pitch black sky, but home is lit up like a beacon on the horizon. Smoke is chugging out of the chimney and through the closed curtains of the living room, I can see the glow of a fire in the hearth when I pull up. All day, I’ve kept Dad’s words in my head and one step at a time, I’ve made it through the day.

The whole way home, Gray has chatted away about anything and everything, keeping my mind from going under, and when we get out of the car, I throw my arms around him. The move takes him by surprise and he laughs as he rights himself, before he returns my attack hug.

“Thank you,” I say, my words muffled by his hair.

“I’m not sure what I did, but whatever it was, I’ll always do it for you,” he says, squeezing me even tighter than I’m squeezing him. “What, by the way, are you thanking me for?”

“For being you.”

He laughs. “Well, I can guarantee I’ll always be me,” he says. “But can I be me inside? It’s freaking freezing out here. I think my balls have jumped back inside my body.” 3

An unexpected laugh bursts out of me, and it feels so good. We head inside, huddled together, to find Mom and Tad tucked up together on the sofa like a couple of kids. Mom’s legs are draped over Tad’s lap, his arms around her, both wearing glasses and contemplative frowns as they ponder a crossword. Mom hears us come in first and she looks up with the kind of smile that could warm any heart. Untangling herself from Tad, she cups my cheeks in her hands. 6

“You look happy, bogárkám,” she says, her thumbs warming my skin. Her hands slip to my shoulders and she pulls me close, and there’s no where I’d rather be right now than here in her arms, inhaling the perfume that lingers on everything she wears. As she holds me, one hand slowly rubbing my back, she kisses the top of my head.

“So do you, Mom,” I say.

“I am, honey,” she murmurs. “I really am.” 2

After the four of us eat together, dragging ourselves from comfort to sit around the table in the kitchen, Mom sinks back into Tad’s easy embrace by the fire and Gray and I drag a blanket over our laps on the other sofa. Someday, I want what she has with Tad. I want to be able to curl up with someone I love.

Gray leans against me, yawning into the crook of his elbow, and sighs as he pulls the blanket tighter around both of us, cuddling up against me like a child. He rests his head on my shoulder and buries his cold feet under my leg, and I’m not sure I’m missing out on anything. 5

When the credits roll and the clock tells us it’s way too late to do anything but drag our weary bodies to bed, Mom kisses me goodnight and Gray follows me up to my room. He pokes his head around the door and comes in when I sit down on the edge of my bed.

“Hey, Storie?”

“Mmm?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how ok are you?” He hovers in the middle of my room, sincerity and a hint of worry in his eyes. I’ve never known him to use a normal scale. He must really be concerned. It breaks my heart.

“In general? Or right now, this second?”

He shrugs. “Both.”

I purse my lips. “In general … five, or six,” I say. His face falls. “But right now this second? I think I’m a nine. And you-” I nod at him and smile “- are the one I’m missing.” 14

His worry cracks and gives way to a laugh that illuminates his whole face. He launches himself across the room and leaps onto my bed, almost breaking the slats that creak beneath the mattress, and he throws his arms around my neck. 2

“That’s so cheesy. I love it.” He laughs into my hair and I feel a million times better just having him here with me. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. You and me?” He pulls away, sitting on his knees, and holds my shoulders. “This is for life, Storie.” 8

“Good. Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 2

“Me neither,” he sighs. “Now, I have a very important question.” He folds his legs on the bed, hands clutching his knees. “Do you want me to leave you alone and go to bed, or do you want me to stay and we’ll stick a movie on my laptop and fall asleep to it?” 3

“I like the second option,” I say, which is enough for him to jump to his feet and disappear to get his laptop.

A grateful smile blossoms on my lips, widening when he comes back ten minutes later in fluffy pajamas, his laptop under his arm and two steaming mugs in his hand. I don’t really want to be alone right now but with Gray as my brother, I don’t think I ever will be.