Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“You were going to have sex with Matt? For real?” Sarah asked the second I turned off the light and slid into bed.
I didn’t want to talk. After Ben ran out of the church and said what he did, I felt crushed. It took everything I had to keep it together, so no one suspected anything. With the Cory family staying and it being Christmas Eve, I didn’t want to bleed out in front of everyone. But it was hard because I felt every beat of my heart, heaving and aching in my chest.
“What?” I bought myself time.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t lie to me, young lady.”
For the first time since Ben ran out of the church just hours earlier, I found a tiny smile. “You sound like Mom.”
She nudged my leg with hers. “Just tell me.”
“I didn’t sleep with him.” I nudged her back.
“But you were going to?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Gabriella.” Sarah rolled toward me, but I kept my gaze on the ceiling.
“Yes.” I sighed. “I thought about it. Okay? I considered it. But I didn’t, and I’m not going to, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Why? Why would you even consider it?”
“You’re one to talk. You totally couldn’t wait to get rid of your virginity.”
“Yes, Gabby. But you always wanted to wait until marriage. Did Matt pressure you?”
“What?” I rolled my head toward her. “No! Of course not. What did he say?”
She tucked her hands under her cheek. “After the program tonight, people were chattering about Ben running out and you following him. Matt told Isaac that you liked Ben a lot. Isaac said you and Ben were best friends, and Matt mumbled you were more than friends. So Isaac pressed him as to why he thought that, and he said you two were messing around and you said Ben’s name instead of Matt’s.”
I opened my mouth to tell her it meant nothing, but that was a lie. “Well, it doesn’t matter if I like Ben because he wants nothing to do with me.” I nearly choked on the last few words.
“What do you mean? Like he doesn’t want to be friends or just more than friends?”
The pillow absorbed my first tear. “I don’t know. He’s just so miserable, and he doesn’t want my help. His mom keeps telling me to give him time, but it’s been months. I feel like he’s stuck, but he doesn’t want help. Like he had one dream, and anything else is equivalent to death.”
“I can only imagine. It’s going to take time, Gabby.”
“Time? It’s been months.”
“Yeah, but he spent nearly nineteen years with the ability to hear, so accepting his new lot in life will take longer than a few months. He’s grieving something really big. It has to suck.”
“He won’t let me grieve with him. He keeps pushing me away.”
“Gabbs, grieving isn’t a group sport. It’s the most personal emotion a human is capable of feeling. If you dropped ten vases from the exact same distance onto the same floor, they would all break differently. One or two might not break at all or just have a chip out of them. But no two would have the same number of pieces. No two would be put back together in the same way. No one knows exactly what Ben is feeling or how long it will take for him to feel pieced back together. And you can’t do it. Nobody can put Ben back together except Ben. You’ll only get cut if you try to fix him.”
After a few seconds of not knowing how to respond and letting her words play in my mind, I whispered, “I got cut tonight.”
“I’m sorry.” She rested a hand on the side of my head, her palm touching my cheek. “But don’t sleep with Matt.”
I knew she was trying to lighten the mood, but it only made me more emotional.
All the tears came at once, and a tiny sob broke free.
“Oh, Gabbs …”
“I s-slept with Ben.”
She hugged me.
“But d-don’t t-tell anyone.”
After a restless night, I woke a little before five on Christmas morning. My eyes were still swollen from crying, and my mouth was dry. Sarah must not have slept well either because she wasn’t in bed. I wrapped up in my terry-cloth robe and tiptoed down the stairs. The second I turned the corner, I covered my mouth to silence my gasp, then jumped back to hide. I should have turned around and bolted back up the stairs. It’s what God wanted me to do. Even if I sometimes ignored my moral compass, I still had one. And it was Christmas, the celebration of the birth of Christ. All arrows pointed upstairs.
But that stupid little pitch-forked demon on my shoulder convinced me to slowly peek around the corner again. It was so wrong.
The family room was dim sans the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. Dad unplugged them every night. Except on Christmas Eve, he left them on all night so we’d come downstairs to a lit-up room with presents under the tree. Sarah was on the sofa, partially reclined. Her night shirt was bunched up above her breasts, leaving the rest of her naked and exposed. Isaac had on a pair of gray sweatpants, no shirt, and he was kneeling on the floor, gripping her inner thighs while his head was between her spread legs.