“Always have been,” I tell her, filling my own mouth. She doesn’t reply and we spend the rest of dinner in silence.

“Sy, are we going to discuss this strange night of dinner and silence?” she asks, following behind me as I take our plates to the kitchen.

“What do you want to discuss, Holly?”

“Oh, I don't know, Sy. These last few days have been very strange.”

“Why?” I turn back to her, watching her bite down on her lip with worry. She doesn’t want to ask, but I can see the need to know that flows through her.

“I don’t know why. It just has been.” She rests her hip against the kitchen counter.

“I already told you, Holly. I’m done with standing back and waiting for you to snap out of this state of denial.”

“You think hanging around my place of work, making me eat dinner and cleaning my kitchen is going to snap me out of this denial you seem to think I’m living in?”

“No.”

“No?” she fires back with that attitude hidden behind her eyes. We clearly have different views on what is happening here.

“No, the dinner the other night was because I stood outside your shop for six hours keeping watch, and I was fucking hungry. Today, I wanted to see you. Was it to bring you food? Most definitely, but you needed it. I’m cleaning our mess, because that’s what you do when you eat at someone’s house, not because I think it will get you to open up. That’s not what this is about, Holly. I’m not doing any of this hoping you snap out of it; I’m just being here for you and waiting for you do it.”

“And what if I can’t just snap out of it?”

“You will, Holly, and I’ll be here for as long as it takes. Even if that means days of standing outside your work and walking you home so you eat, then so be it. I won’t stop, no matter how much you push. I knew when I walked into that hospital room that you needed time, so I walked away, giving you the space you needed, but I can’t give you any more.”

“But I can’t do this,” she whispers. Her crystal blue eyes are fighting the tears that I know she won’t want to let fall. “It’s too hard to pretend when you’re so close.” Her head whips from side to side. “You make it so hard.” She steps back, but I don’t let her retreat.

“Make what hard, Holly? It’s just you and me here. You don’t have to be anything other than you.” I step into her space.

“You won’t like that person, Sy. I don’t even like that person.”

“You think I don’t see it, Holly? Think I haven’t watched you these past few months as you’ve become someone who slowly falls apart? I don’t like this person either. At least the person you’re hiding shows some emotion; this person standing here is trying to find a way out.” I reach for her hand. Her porcelain fingers, looking so clean, so pure against my inked ones.

“It’s okay to not be okay, Holly.”

“No, it’s not, Sy.” She pulls away, turning her back to me.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid of what you’ll see,” she admits. If she knew what I hid, what I’m so afraid of people seeing, she wouldn’t be so afraid.

Darkness has stolen her, and something in me needs to be the person to save her.

“I don’t want to fight anymore, Sy,” she whispers so faintly I strain to hear her words. But I do hear them, and allow them to give me permission to wrap her in my arms. To hold her and help conquer the demons she fights.

If only I knew what I was battling.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Holly

“Oh, my God. Don’t look now, but that sex on a fucking bike from last week is about to walk in the shop,” Gabrielle says from behind me. Instantly, my hands go to work of their own accord and smooth the front of my blue shift dress. “For all that is holy, you’ve had sex with him, haven’t you?” She elbows my side when she sees my reaction to spotting him.

“What? I have not,” I defend myself just as he walks in.

“Hey,” he greets me before nodding at Gabrielle.

“Hey,” I reply, the sight of him causing me to fumble with the pen I was using to fill out a client card.

“You free?” he asks, looking around the quiet salon.

“She was just about to take a break,” Gabrielle answers for me. If Sy wasn’t watching me carefully, I’d kick her.

“Don’t you have work to do?” I turn and ask her.

“No, I’m good,” she smiles.

I don’t push it further. Turning back to Sy, I decide my best bet would be to move away from her.

“Guess I’m free,” I say, filing the card away for later. “Let me get my bag.” I turn, leaving him alone with Gabrielle. Calming my nerves, I hang up my work apron, and fix my hair before heading back out.

“And you have other artists working there?” I hear her ask as I walk up to them.

“Yeah, we just put on another artist. Give the shop a call. They’ll fit you in,” he tells her, bringing his eyes to me. “You ready?” he asks and I nod. Am I ready?

“You don’t have anyone in for an hour, so take your time,” Gabrielle calls out. Gritting my teeth, I vow to kill her when I get back.

“I’ll have her back in time,” Sy answers for me. And I hear Gab laugh. Bitch.

“So, what’s up?” I ask when we walk down the sidewalk. I don’t know where we’re going, and I don’t find myself asking.