The Gravity of Us (Elements #4)(53)

“I’ll go put Talon in her car seat,” Lucy said to me, taking Talon from my arms before thanking everyone once more.

Mary gave me a tight smile and pulled me into a hug. “I like her,” she whispered as she patted me on the back. “She has a good heart.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Once she went back inside, Professor Oliver stood on the front porch, grinning wide.

“What?” I asked, my eyebrows knotted.

“Oh, Mr. Russell,” he sang, placing his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth.

“What?!”

He whistled low, shaking his head back and forth. “It’s just funny that it’s happening to you of all people, and you seem one hundred percent ignorant to it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I guess it’s harder to see the plot line when you’re the one living the story.”

“Did someone forget to take their crazy pills again?” I asked.

“In every story, there’s the moment when the characters go from act one, the old world, into act two, the new world. You know this.”

“Yes…but what does that have to do with anything?”

Professor Oliver nodded toward Lucy. “It has everything to do with everything.”

Realization set in and I cleared my throat, standing up straighter. “No, that’s ridiculous. She’s just helping with Talon.”

“Mhmm,” he said, almost mockingly.

“No, really—and, regardless of your batty mind games, she’s Jane’s sister.”

“Mhmm,” he replied, driving me crazy. “The thing is, the heart never listens to the brain’s logic, Mr. Russell.” He nudged me in the side with an all-knowing hitch in his voice. “It just feels.”

“You’re really starting to annoy me.”

He laughed and nodded. “It’s just funny, isn’t it? How the main characters never know about the adventures they’re about to go on.”

What bothered me the most about his words was how much truth was contained in them. I knew my feelings for Lucy were growing, and I knew how dangerous it was to allow myself to develop any kind of emotions toward her.

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt the way I did when I held her hand, or when I saw her caring for Talon, or even when I saw her merely existing.

“What do you think of her, Graham?” Professor Oliver asked.

“What do I think of Lucille?”

“Yes. Maybe if you can’t be with her, perhaps you still have room for a friendship.”

“She’s my complete opposite,” I told him. “Lucille is such an odd character, a freak of nature. She’s clumsy and always speaks out of turn. Her hair’s always wild, and her laughter is at times annoying and too loud. Everything about her is disastrous. She’s nothing more than a mess.”

“And yet?” he urged me on.

And yet, I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to be an odd character, a freak of nature. I wanted to stumble and laugh out loud. I wanted to find her beautiful disaster and mix it together with my own mess. I wanted the freedom she swam in, and her fearlessness of living in the moment.

I wanted to know what it meant to be a part of her world.

To be a man who felt everything.

I wanted to hold her, but still have her move freely in my arms. I wanted to taste her lips and breathe in a part of her soul as I gave her a glimpse of mine.

I didn’t want to be her friend—no.

I wanted to be so much more.

Yet, I knew the possibility of that was impossible. She was the one thing off-limits, and the only thing I’d ever craved. It wasn’t fair, the way this story was unfolding for me, yet it wasn’t at all shocking. I never wrote happily ever afters, and Lucy would never be featured in my final chapter.

“You’re overthinking something right now, Graham, and I urge you to believe in the opposite,” he told me. “Jane has been gone for almost a year now, and let’s face it—you never looked at her the way you stare at Lucy. Your eyes never lit up the way they do whenever she walks into a room. You spent most of your life struggling to avoid embracing a form of happiness, my son. When in the world will you allow yourself to be free of the chains you placed upon yourself? This life is short, and you never know how many chapters you have left in your novel, Graham. Live each day as if it’s the final page. Breathe each moment as if it’s the final word. Be brave, my son. Be brave.”

I rolled my eyes and started walking down the steps. “Professor Oliver?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”





“I have to stop by the store to grab some diapers. I hope that’s okay,” Graham told me as he pulled the car into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour grocery store.

“That’s fine.”

He hurried inside, and when he came out, he tossed a few bags into the trunk and hopped back into the car. “Okay,” he said, putting the car in drive. “Which way do we go to get to the cabin?”

“What?”

“I said which way do we go? To visit your mother’s tree?”

My chest tightened, and I shook my head. His words replayed in my head as I blankly stared his way. “What? No way, Graham. You’re already behind on your book, and I just can’t imagine having you drive that far just to—”