Archer's Voice - Sheridan Mia (бесплатные онлайн книги читаем полные txt) 📗

The moon, large and full above us, lit the night so that I could see her clearly in front of me.

When I finally made it to her, I grabbed her arm and she stopped and spun around, tears still coursing down her cheeks. Don't run from me, I said. I can't call to you. Please don't run from me.

"You ran from me!" she said. "You ran from me, and I died a little more each day! You didn't even let me know that you were safe! Why?"

Her voice broke on the last word and I felt my heart clench in my chest. I couldn't, Bree. If I had written to you, or contacted you, I wouldn't have been able to stay away. And I had to stay away, Bree. I had to. You're my safety, and I had to do this without feeling safe. I had to.

She stood there silently for several minutes, her eyes on my still hands, not looking up into my face. We were both shivering, our breath coming out in white puffs.

I suddenly understood. Bree had been holding in the emotion of my absence for three long months, and my return had opened the floodgates. I knew what it felt like when emotion bubbling to the surface made you feel sick, out of control–I knew better than anyone. It's why I had gone away. But now, I was back. And now it was my turn to be strong for Bree. Now, I was finally able.

Come back to the truck. Please. Let me get you warm and then we'll talk.

"Were there other women?"

I shook my head and breathed out, looking down at my feet, then back up at her. I leaned in and "spoke" with my hands right against her body, looking into her eyes as she glanced between my face and my hands. There has only ever been you. There. Will. Only. Ever. Be. You.

She closed her eyes and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She opened them and we both stood there silently, our breath dissipating as it rose into the sky.

"I thought," she shook her head slowly, "I thought maybe you figured out that you were lonely," she heaved in a big breath, "and that you would have fallen in love with any girl who walked down your driveway that day–that maybe you needed to find out." She looked down.

I took her chin in my fingers and tilted her face back up to me. I brought my hand down and said, There's nothing to find out. What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl–because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back.

She closed her eyes again and then opened them and I saw her body relax.

"What were you doing?" she finally asked quietly, hugging herself with her bare arms.

Please let me get you warm, I repeated, holding out my hand to her.

She didn't say anything, but she took my hand and we walked back to my truck together. When we reached it, I helped her up and then walked around to my side and climbed in as well, turning to her.

I looked out the window behind her for a second, thinking of all the things I'd done in the last three months, answering the question she had asked me outside. I went to restaurants, coffee shops… I went to the movies once. I smiled a small smile and her eyes flew to my face.

She blinked at me, her tears drying up. "You did?" she whispered. I nodded.

Her eyes searched my face for several seconds before she asked. "What'd you see?"

Thor, I spelled out.

She laughed softly and the sound was like music to my ears. "Did you like it?"

I loved it. I sat through it twice. I even ordered popcorn and a drink, even though there was a line of people behind me.

"How'd you do it?" She looked at me with wide eyes.

I had to point and gesture a little, but the kid got it. He was nice. I paused for a minute. I had this realization about a month after I'd been gone. Whenever I went somewhere and had to communicate with someone, and they'd see my scar and understand why I was gesturing, they each had a different reaction. Some people were awkward, uncomfortable, others were kind, helpful, and there were even some that were impatient and put-out. Bree's eyes softened and she was listening to me raptly.

I realized that people's reactions had more to do with them, more to do with who they were, than anything about me. It was like a bolt of lightening hit me, Bree.

Tears sprung to her eyes again and she reached out and touched my leg, just laying her hand on me.

She nodded. "It was like that with my dad too. What else?" she asked.

I got a job, I smiled and a look of surprise came over her face. I nodded. Yeah, I stopped in this small town in New York state and I saw an ad about needing guys to unload delivery trucks at the airport. I wrote a letter about my situation, explaining that I could hear and understand directions and that I was a hard worker, but that I couldn't speak. I handed it to the guy in person and he read it and hired me on the spot. I grinned with the memory of the pride I had felt in that moment.

It was boring work, but I got to know another guy there, Luis, and he spoke incessantly, telling me his life story while we worked. How he had come over from Mexico without knowing the language at all, how he still struggled to support his family, but that they were happy, they had each other. He talked a lot. I got the impression that no one had ever just listened to him. I smiled with the memory of my first real friend other than Bree.

He invited me to his home for Christmas dinner and his little girl learned a few signs before I got there, and I taught her a few more. I smiled, thinking of little Claudia. She asked me the sign for love and I spelled out your name.

Bree let out small sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "So now she's going to go around saying, 'I Bree you?'" she asked, smiling softly.

I nodded. Yeah. I turned toward her more fully, focusing on her face. I stand by my logic though. I think love is a concept, and each person has an individual word for what sums it up for them. My word for love is Bree.

We stared at each other for several beats, me drinking in her beauty, her sweet compassion. I had known that about her before, but not to the extent I did now.

Finally, she asked me, "What made you decide it was time to come home?"

I looked at her for a couple seconds, considering her question. I was sitting in this small coffee shop a couple days ago and I saw this old man sitting at a table across from me. He looked so lonely, so sad. I was too, but it suddenly occurred to me that some people go through their whole lives never being loved or loving as deeply as I love you. There's always going to be the chance that I could lose you in this lifetime. There's nothing any of us can do about the possibility of loss. But in that moment, I decided that I was more interested in focusing on the great privilege I've been given in having you at all.

Tears shimmered in her eyes again as she whispered, "And what if I hadn't been here when you got back?"

Then I would have come for you. I would have fought for you. But don't you see, I had to fight for myself first. I had to feel like I was someone worthy of winning you.

She stared at me for a second, more tears coming into her eyes. "How'd you get so brilliant?" she asked, letting out a small, breathy laugh and a small sniffle.

I was already brilliant. I just needed some world experience. I needed Thor.

She let out another small laugh and then grinned at me. You being funny?

I grinned back at her, noting that she was finally using her hands to speak. No, I never joke about Thor.