Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(54)

“The night I cut my finger at The Squeeze and saw your wrists…”

When she didn’t go on, he swallowed and rotated to face her. She was going to ask about his cut marks; he just knew it. He didn’t want to talk about them. Ever. He’d been in a dark place then, so dark he wasn’t sure how he’d ever climbed out of all that black. He couldn’t reasonably explain why he’d done it, couldn’t rationalize the overwhelming necessity to end everything. He’d just needed to stop the pain.

“I was so messed up.” He breathed out the confession. “I don’t know why I cut them. I’d just gotten my life back on track. It didn’t make any sense.”

Paige merely watched him. So he kept talking, blurting it all out.

“After…after my parents kicked me out, they let me keep my car. So I drove it as far as I could on a tank of gas. Then I sold it for cash. It was just a quirk of fate I landed in Granton. But I found a job, a crappy place to live, and since the entire town centered around the university, I eventually enrolled. But it was like I was on auto pilot.

“Inside, I knew I didn’t deserve any of it. And every day I attended class, I would see all these normal people around me, going to classes, living their lives, like nothing…nothing wrong had ever happened in the world. I just didn’t belong, so I tried to take myself out of the equation.”

Paige shuddered, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself, but let him keep talking.

“When I woke in the hospital, Sam was my state-required counselor. She’s the one who convinced me to attend the grief meetings. She thought…” He chuckled derisively to himself. “She said that she could tell just by looking into my eyes that I’d lost someone close.”

He glanced at Paige, expecting her to share the irony with him. But she just stared up at him from her own beautiful, dark, grief-stricken eyes.

“You told me once you didn’t expect me to forgive you because no one else ever had,” she said.

Nodding, he watched her intently, waiting and hoping, yet dreading too.

She gave him a tremulous smile. “I didn’t understand what you meant. I didn’t know your parents had kicked you out and cut you off. I didn’t know you hadn’t seen them since graduation, or how much you had struggled to get your life back on track. I didn’t know you’d fallen so low you wanted to end it all.”

He squinted, wondering what she was getting at. “You couldn’t have known. It’s fine. I didn’t—”

“No.” Her lips tilted in a somber smile. “It’s not okay. I understand what it’s like to lose all my loved ones so suddenly, but I never felt guilty about it. I never thought I deserved to be cast out of their lives. Not the way you did. And maybe still do.” She drew in a large breath. “I think you have suffered just as much, if not more, than I have since Trace died, so I’m going to tell you something and I’m going to mean it, but I think the real person who needs to say this to you is yourself.”

Logan frowned, not comprehending at first. When it struck him what she was about to say, he panicked.

No. No, he wasn’t ready to hear this. Not from her, not after he’d just hurt her by revealing what he had about her friend.

He began to shake his head, his eyes begging her stay silent. But she reached out anyway and took his hand. It stalled his resistance as nothing else could. Her fingers were warm and stable and they made him want to fall to pieces.

“I forgive you,” she whispered.

His shoulders shuddered, and he dropped his chin to his chest. As his fingers began to shake in hers, she tightened her grip.

“I know you never meant to kill him. I know it was an accident. And I know how much you regret it. I forgive you for having any part in Trace’s death. It’s not your fault he’s gone, and I’m sorry I’m admitting it three years too late.”

Too late? She was still too early. Way too early. It had been his fault. Trace wouldn’t have fallen, wouldn’t have hit his head if Logan hadn’t punched him. He deserved a lifetime of hatred and disgust from her. He deserved eternal punishment and…and…

“I’m sorry I ever blamed you.”

When he tried to pull his hand away, a freaking embarrassing sob tore from his throat because she wouldn’t let him go. “Paige,” he gasped, pleaded. “Don’t…”

She shouldn’t be the first person to forgive him. It wasn’t right. She should keep blaming him.

But she stepped toward him and pressed her forehead to his. With the hand that wasn’t holding him prisoner, she reached up and wiped at his damp cheeks.

God, how horrifying. He hadn’t even realized he’d begun to bawl.

“As soon as you can forgive yourself, I think you’ll be ready to move on with your life completely. And I think you’ll be just fine.”

Unable to stop the tears, he interlaced his fingers through hers and held on for dear life, breathing her in. Their bodies barely grazed as she hugged him.

In those few precious moments, she was his entire universe, what grounded him and also what helped him float up with a freedom he couldn’t explain. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, but it wasn’t nearly long enough. He wanted more time. He wanted to press closer to her and hug her. He wanted forever.