True, she didn’t need a hero to save the day, but the more I got to know her, the closer we grew – I wanted, no – I needed to protect her. Maybe it was to return the favor since she took care of me when I was at my weakest or simply because I…cared. I’d ever confess that out loud to her. She’d sock me in the face because Lila Garcia hated to be pitied.
Except, I didn’t pity her.
I just wanted to… protect her.
“What are you saying? Is she hurt?”
Her grandma gave me a heartbroken smile. “She’s been hurting for a long time.”
That… hurt. Right there, in my fucking chest.
Mrs. Wilson leaned against the doorframe, looking more haggard than her age. “Did you know that Lila never cries? Never, except one day of the year. On that day, she cries alone; she hides her tears from everyone. That’s the only day she lets herself feel pain.”
My heart nearly spilled out, and I rubbed my chest, trying to alleviate the ache. It didn’t stop the pain. It infiltrated my veins and my blood, for her.
Her shoulders shook and slumped, as if she had finally been released from a heavy burden she carried. “My Lila is strong with a fragile heart,” she whispered.
“Where is she right now? Where can I find her?” Even I could hear the urgency in my voice, the desperation.
And I was not a desperate guy.
But Lila made me feel many things I’d never felt before. Not for any other girl.
“Lila left this morning. She’s at Sunset Park. You’ll find her sitting on a bench.”
I nodded my thanks and took a step back, clenching my car keys in my hand. Sunset Park, I’d find my Lila there.
“Maddox?”
I paused and glanced over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“Are you Lila’s friend?”
Confused, I blinked, and my brows furrowed. Grandma was well aware we were friends; we had been for months. But she stared at me, expectantly, as if her question held more meaning behind those simple words.
And I realized they did.
That question was powerful because it made me think about how important Lila was to me, how close we were and how much she meant to me. One simple question, and it put our whole relationship in perspective.
Yes, I respected the hell out of Lila. She was smart, funny, wild and… caring.
Yes, I still wanted a taste of her. Wanted it since I first laid eyes on her.
But she meant more.
We had each other – she got me and I got her.
Suddenly, the idea of us being more than friends became taboo. Because if we were ever more than friends, we risked losing what we had now. A silent understanding. A friendship based on honesty and loyalty. Lila saw behind all my bullshit and didn’t let it deter her. She pushed and pushed until I cracked open in front of her. Lila and I were alike in so many ways, yet still… different. Maybe that was why we suited each other so well as friends. We balanced each other.
She was the calm in my reckless life.
I was the chaos in her peaceful one.
“Lila’s my best friend,” I finally confessed, with a curl of my lips.
Grandma looked thoughtful for a moment before she gave me a melancholy smile. “Take care of our girl. She refuses to let any of us lend her a shoulder. Maybe you’ll be different.”
Thirty minutes later, I was sitting in my car at Sunset Park. My gaze found Lila the moment I parked and turned off the engine. Like her Gran said, I found her sitting on a bench, alone. Sweet Lila was cuddled up in her winter coat, trying to stay warm against the cold. I couldn’t see her face from where I was, but I didn’t like what I was seeing.
She was hunched over the bench, her legs up on the seat with her arms wrapped around her knees. Lila looked… lost.
I stayed in my car for a few more minutes, giving her some time by herself. I knew why she was here. Sunset Cemetery Park.
Her parents were here.
Did you know that Lila never cries? Never, except one day of the year. On that day, she cries alone; she hides her tears from everyone. That’s the only day she lets herself feel pain.
And I knew what that day was, what today was, and why it was so important for Lila.
Sweet Lila – the fiery dragon with a fragile heart.
I stepped out of the car when I couldn’t stay away any longer. The cold wind blew hard, and Lila hugged herself tighter. There was a magnetic pull between us, and I walked toward her without even realizing my feet were taking me to her side.
She didn’t move when I settled at her side on the bench, didn’t look up, didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Silently, I grasped her hand and pulled it away from her knees. She clutched my hand, and I squeezed hers in return, a silent vow.
I’m not letting go, Lila.
She didn’t speak, and I didn’t dare break the silence. Lila quietly sniffled and dashed away her tears with her other hand, but she couldn’t keep her cries in. She cried her little heart out, a desolate sob coming from a person drained of all her hopes and dreams.
As if realizing now that she was holding onto my hand, she tried to wrench it away from me. I held fast, squeezing her hand in comfort. “Go…away,” Lila murmured.
I stayed silent, refusing to utter a word, but also refusing to leave.
Minutes probably turned into hours as I sat with her. She cried until I thought there would be no tears left, but she still cried. She didn’t speak again and neither did I. Lila needed to grieve in silence, but I’d be there with her. I was staying, and I’d fight any motherfucker who’d try to make me leave.
Each sob that racked through her body wrecked my stupid heart even more. A whimper escaped her, a tortured sound, and she gripped my hand harder, her nails digging into my skin. Her other hand came up, and she clutched her chest, a broken sob slipping past her lips. Her whole body was shaking, whether it was from the cold or the force of her tears, I didn’t know.
The sound of her struggling to breathe through her crying decimated me.
“It… hurts,” she whimpered. “It… hurts… so much, Maddox.”
Her breathing was ragged, gasping, and her body slumped forward as if all the strength had left her body. She shouldn’t be able affect me so strongly, but wild emotions swirled inside me as I breathed in her pain and suffering.
Watching the Lila I knew, the strong and confident Lila, break apart like this…
There was a phantom ache in my chest, like an invisible knife digging and twisting viciously into my flesh – the pain becoming unbearable.
I grabbed her before she could slide off the bench, her body weak in her grief. Our knees dug into the damp mud, but I didn’t care as I pulled her into my arms. She was half sitting on my lap, her face buried in my neck as her tears soaked through my shirt and against my skin.
“Why doesn’t it… stop? Why? Why? Why!?” She wailed. Her tiny fist clenched around my shirt. “It hurts… even more. Every time… every year. The… pain… just never goes… away.”
I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to fucking do, so I just held her. I was never good with words of condolences, never had anyone to comfort until Lila.
For fuck’s sake, the moment a girl started shedding a few tears, I’d be running the other way as far as I could go. Girls and tears were the one thing I didn’t do, nope… never.