Dark Secrets (Dark Secrets #1)(154)
Author: A.M. Hudson

I half smiled, allowing memories in. “Did you sit on the fishing jetty while it was raining?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, dusting a line of yellow sand off his shin. “But I just didn’t get it anymore. It was just cold and I felt silly.”

I drew a really long breath; the salt in the ocean was so strong I could almost taste it, as if the air were made of sand, brushing the back of my tongue each time I swallowed. Even though this beach wasn’t nearly as pretty as the one back home, it was good to feel the crisp water and the weight of my body sink into the sand again.

But the heat reminded me of the truth, because, while the sun may have burned into the side of my face like a hot iron, the breeze was icy and strong—not humid and wet, like home. It was nature’s truth, and it screamed out so clearly that autumn was coming, and that David would be gone for good.

I ran some of the cool ocean water over my cheek, and the heat dissipated with a soft tingle.

“This looks better,” Mike said.

“Don’t!” I spun my face away from his cold, wet touch.

“Whoa. Ara. I’m not going to hurt you.” He leaned around and looked at me.

“I’m sorry.” I frowned, touching my jaw. “You just startled me.”

“You still defensive about those scars?”

I lifted one shoulder and dropped it again.

“You know, you shouldn’t be.”

“They’re hideous.” I looked away, fighting back tears.

“Hideous?” Mike’s voice trailed up. “Ara, you can barely see them.”

“Then why did you touch them?”

“It’s just…the sun was reflecting off the water beads on your skin. It looked pretty. Like little diamonds. I just wanted to touch you.”

And I just wanted to run away. In my mind, the scars had faded to an almost invisible memory. When I looked in the mirror, I never even noticed them anymore; tiny little dots covering one side of my face and neck, silvery and very indistinct. But Mike noticing them made me feel uncovered and monstrous—like they were all over me.

“Ara. I’m serious. They’re barely visible.” He shuffled closer and turned my face. “You’re still just the same beautiful girl you’ve always been.”

That’s where he was wrong. I wasn’t the same. Nothing about me was the same. Not on the outside and not from the inside.

“Ara?” Mike called as I stood and walked down the beach, dusting sand off my butt.

No one understood. No one could possibly understand. He didn’t see the scars because he didn’t want to see them. But they were there. They would forever be there as a reminder of who I used to be—who I had tried so hard not to be anymore.

I wandered past a little girl with dark hair sitting by a lumpy-looking sand castle, carefully placing shells around it in a swervey pattern. She smiled at me, her little face so warm and honest I smiled back, even though I didn’t want to. I was just like her once, and it made me insanely jealous of the normal life she had—that everyone had, even Mike. No one could possibly know the demons I faced; not the ones from my past and not the physical ones that had left me alone—scarred in my heart, just living out my days, waiting for death.

“Ara.” Mike’s hand clasped my arm; I stopped walking with a jolt. “Don’t walk away from me like that. Talk to me.”

“About what?” The venom in my tone made the little girl look up from her bucket and spade.

“What do you think, Ara? You know how beautiful you are. Why would you pretend you don’t?”

“That’s what you think I’m doing? Pretending?” I turned away. “God, you’re so insensitive.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he called. “It’s just…I just don’t get it. You can’t even see the scars. I’d have to know they were there to notice them.”

“Why do you lie to me?” I spun around.

“Baby. I’m not.” He stepped into me and his eyes narrowed as he studied my face—tracing the curve of my jaw where only David’s eyes had previously been allowed. “Do you still see them there? Honestly?”

I nodded, turning my face away.

“Oh, baby. I…I don’t know what to tell you. I think it might be some kind of psychosis.”

“What?” I frowned up at him.

“Look, I don’t know what you see when you look in the mirror, but all I see is perfect white skin on the face of the prettiest girl in the world.”

I touched my scars with my fingertips.

“Ara.” He gently grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand down from my face. “I promise, on my own future grave, you have completely healed.”

“Really?” I whimpered in a breaking voice, keeping my eyes on my toes.

“Yes.” Mike’s shoulders dropped enough for me to see it through my peripheral.

Then, even with the warm sun, the salty air, and all the families around us, I felt the rise of pain I’d held in—the pain I never got to share with Mike—bubbling up in my chest, then my throat, like an aching blockage of air. I needed him to hold me; I needed him to make everything okay. “I’ve needed you here so, so badly, Mike.” My lashes burned on the edges as hot tears filled my eyes and the beach disappeared into a blur.

“Ara, baby—” He caught me against his chest, the rough sand scratching my jaw. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here now.”

“I needed you, Mike. I needed you,” I sobbed almost inaudibly. “All this time, and you haven’t been here.”

“Oh baby, I wanted to be here. I just—I thought you hated me.”

“I did.” I sobbed harder. “I’m so sorry, Mike. I did.”

He clicked his tongue. “Oh, baby, what has life done to you?”

The little girl by the water stared at me as her mother grabbed her by the wrist and quickly led her away. And I didn’t care if I scared families off. The funny thing about breaking down is that you can’t choose when to do it—it just hits you like a storm; a flash of heat, an overpowering surge of anger, and then—the pouring rain. I was just glad Mike was finally here to shelter me from it all.

“Yeah, she’s okay,” he spoke softly to someone behind me. “She lost her mum recently.”

“Oh. Oh, poor dear,” an elderly-sounding lady said. She said something else, but I didn’t hear. Mike pressed my face tightly against his bare chest—causing a sort of unintentional vacuum seal over my ears.