it was her story. One I wouldnât forget or ignore.
âShe took her life.â
Iâm Not Really a Lawton
CHAPTER 21
GUNNER
Holy shit. The words sounded calm as she spoke them, but the look in her eyes made it seem as if they had been torn from her chest. Pain so intense it darkened the color of her blue eyes, making them almost black, as if her pupils had dilated, taking on the darkness of what she was saying.
âIâm sorry,â I said sincerely. I would have never asked if Iâd known the answer. I didnât understand how life could be so bad that anyone would want to end theirs. Things sucked but they passed and eventually they got better. You just had to hang in there and make it through. But I wasnât going to verbalize my belief to Willa. I had never known anyone who had taken their life. I didnât know what that felt like.
Obviously, from the expression on her face and depth of sorrow evident in her eyes, it wasnât something I ever wanted to know. I sure as hell wasnât asking any more questions about it. I wondered if I was the first person sheâd told this to.
Was this why she had left Arkansas? To escape this reality. If one of my friends offed themselves, Iâd probably need to leave too. But I wasnât sure where Iâd go. Willa had a past to return to. All Iâd known was Lawton.
The fact sheâd shared this with me was big for her. I could hear it in her voice. She trusted me. Just like when we were kids. She knew Iâd keep her secrets safe. Having her back made me feel less alone. Brady wasnât the same. Willa had always been the one I trusted above everyone.
âShe didnât feel like she had another choice. I understand, even if I grieve for the loss of my friend every day.â
The finality of what she had said was clear. She had told me all she was going to tell me, and I wondered why she had even given me that much if it hurt her so badly to talk about it.
We sat in silence for several minutes. Both lost in our own thoughts, and in a way it seemed this was a moment of respect for a life cut off too short. For whatever reasons.
âThatâs what haunts my eyes,â Willa said finally. âWhat haunts yours?â
What haunted mine? What did she mean by that? No one ever asked me about my secrets. I didnât appear to be shouldering any. At least it hadnât been mentioned before.
âI donât know what you mean,â I replied, even though the words didnât sound truthful as I said them.
She studied me a moment; the solemn expression on her face made me feel like squirming in my seat. As if she could read my thoughts and words werenât even needed.
âIf thatâs what you want,â she said simply.
Aggravated by the confusing turn of this conversation, I tried to remind myself not to snap at her. Sheâd just told me her best friend killed herself. Remaining calm, I replied, âWhat do you mean if thatâs what I want?â
âI know pain, and I recognize it when I see it in someone elseâs gaze. Your eyes speak for you. If you donât want to talk about it, I understand.â
Well, fuck.
I couldnât continue looking at her, or Iâd blurt out everything I never wanted anyone to know. Focusing on the view out the window just over her right shoulder was easier. I could get my head back together and think this through. Telling anyone this was making me vulnerable. Even telling Willa. But I wanted to. Needed to say it, and there was no one else on this earth I trusted to say it to. That had to mean something. Was this just friendship?Was it me wanting what we had as kids? Or did I feel more?
My throat got tight just as the pressure began to ease from my chest.
âMy father isnât my father. Iâm not really a Lawton.â The words exploded out of me as if the need to release them had a mind of its own.
Willa didnât looked shocked or
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