his arms to disperse the crowd. “We’ll be making a return journey to stockpile again. Things are too unstable to wait.”
Trips to the fence are made once or twice per year, not twice within as many weeks. It’s a long and dangerous journey. To send men back so quickly must mean something more is going on than Wilson’s saying. But he wanders away, his shoulders heavy with worry.
Chapter 31
“I got you something,” Kai says, his voice soft.
I’ve been sitting in the same spot since we returned home, staring vacantly out the window.
I turn and watch Kai carry a package wrapped in brown paper towards me. It’s been a long time since someone’s given me a wrapped gift. Since my sixteenth birthday, actually, which is nearing a year ago now. “I figured you could use a few things of your own, so I had Stone find me what I was looking for.”
Kai’s kindness is too much. Asking for specific items on a journey to the fence is expensive. I wonder what he had to trade to get this for me. Kai doesn’t have much to barter with, his home is very sparse, his own wardrobe just a few pairs of cargo pants and cotton shirts. We always have enough to eat, but just barely. I don’t like the thought that he’s going without to give me something.
The brown paper crinkles in my hands as I stare down at the offending package. It’s soft, so I know it won’t contain tools to hunt or fish with – the things I want most. I think of the gifts Will surprised me with a time or two – they were usually weapons. Something practical to protect myself with.
“Open it,” he commands.
I pull the yard of twine holding the package closed and open the paper. It’s a sweater made of dyed navy blue wool and appears to be my size. I’ve never held something quite so soft.
“Cause you’re always cold,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“There’s something else too.”
Nestled under the sweater are several pairs of underpants. The government-issued-used-to-be-white-and-are-now-gray-underpants I used to wear. My chest gets tight.
“You know I’m fine with sharing, but you can’t exactly wear my boxer shorts.” His smile is shy, unsure and his cheeks are slightly flushed.
I don’t mention that after my last pair became too full of holes, I’d stopped wearing panties altogether a couple of weeks ago.
“Thank you,” I say again. Without another word, I carry my gifts to my room and stuff them in a drawer before curling up on the bed.
Several minutes later, Kai taps lightly on the door. “Eve?”
I remain quiet, knowing he’ll just come in anyways. Kai crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under this weight. He places a hand on the center of my back, rubbing slow languid circles. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
“Fine.” I nod. I look up into his eyes, which are deep blue pools of worry. I’ve come so far since he first met me, but I know he wants more. He wants to be the one to make me whole again. I just don’t think that’s possible.
He continues rubbing my back and I let him. It feels nice. “You should come out and eat something.”
I shake my head. “Not hungry.”
Kai frowns. “Are you going to bed for the night?”
It’s hardly dark out. I shrug. I just want to lie here. I don’t care what happens next.
Kai gets quiet and his hand stills on my back. “Can I stay here with you at least?”
“Sure.” It’s his house after all.
Kai lies on his side next to me, stretching his body along the length of the mattress so we’re just a foot apart.
“I’m sorry if my gifts upset you,” he whispers.
“They didn’t. I said thank you.”
He nods. “I know. I just…wish I could do something to make you better. You’re the only one I can’t seem to heal.” I’ve feared this talk was coming for some time. Still, I feel unprepared for what to say, for how to handle it.
He lightly strokes my cheek, his firm hand cupping my jaw, his blue eyes wearing down my defenses. No one’s touched me this way since Will, and it feels…good, familiar. It shouldn’t, but it does.
“I could give you things…I could make you forget him.”
I don’t argue, I don’t disagree. I don’t want to tell Kai that there’s no hope of me ever forgetting Will. But maybe I’m just selfish enough to let him try. Disposing of some of this