You Between the Lines

by Katie Naymon

His hazel eyes, once electrifying splinters of color and just-for-me warmth, go cold.

The urge to cry is still building behind my eyes, but I suppress it, strangle it, tuck it in deep somewhere in my chest, where no one, hopefully, can find it.

just because Dad has been a good father to you doesn’t mean he’s been a good husband to me.

“So when I didn’t come on time, your first reaction was, ‘There’s something wrong with me. I’m not good.’ Is that right?”

“Your first reaction, when someone ignores you, is to assume that there’s something wrong with you. You assign your self-worth based on your perception of what others think about you.”

“I was hoping I was special.” It’s facetious, of course, but sometimes my subconscious desperately wants to be the exception. Erica laughs. “You’re not. I’m not, either. And isn’t that the most comforting thing in the world?” I’m not sure it is. It’s no warm blanket or cup of coffee or the feeling of Will’s hand on my lower back, that’s for sure. But maybe I can get there.

I recommend getting used to being more vulnerable. It’ll feel uncomfortable at first, exposing yourself, but it gets easier over time and there’s really no downside. Only good things come out of being yourself and asking for what you need.”

me. I’m motivated by deadlines and praise and prestige.

How do I keep someone who is making me uncomfortable comfortable? How do I mediate? The people-pleaser in me wants to curl into a ball of nothingness. Docile, calm.

unbearable. It’s not like the praise that would come from Will, how I reveled in it, how it made me feel precious, how it felt stabilizing.

This strange, horrific, beautiful thing has always lingered between us—in the nooks of my rib cage, the early wrinkles of his rare smile, the angles we made grasping for each other.

It was never a sure thing, but we made it one.

Even though I don’t know what’s happening, I’m smiling, too. Because he is. Because I can’t help

“I’m exhausted by this, by myself. I feel like I have no choice but to give in.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Leigh, I can hardly remember a time I wasn’t in love with you.”

You have always been the brightest thing in the room and I have never not wanted to be in your spotlight.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” I burst out before he can get another word in. I’ve already written it, but I want to say it, too, to make it more real for him.

“Okay, never mind, I’m being insecure, I shouldn’t ask for constant validation—”

A decade of uncontrolled pining.”

“Somehow you knew who I was before I did.”