She wanted the one person in this world who made her realise what home was supposed to feel like.
“Fine.” Hunter snapped, eyes hardening but not before Carmen noticed a flicker of hurt there. “Don’t let me in, then. At least let me call that perfect little boyfriend of yours.”
Carmen froze, momentarily losing track of her thoughts regarding Asa and wondering how, even after all this time apart, Hunter could read her like an open book.
“Come on,” he muttered, sighing in defeat. “He’d be better at this whole comforting thing anyway. I’m not the sentimental type. Can’t do this heart-to-heart shit right now.”
Carmen’s mind flashed back to when Asa had hugged her after their date on the porch when she’d started panicking—how he’d wrapped his arms around her in an ironclad grip as if he wanted to force back all her broken pieces together.
She wanted to feel that again, to get lost in his warmth, to see that tenderness in his coffee eyes every time he stole a glance at her.
But…
But Carmen had just fallen and crash-landed on the cold concrete with everything that made her whole now lying around in fragments. And she just needed to gather those shards of her entire being and sew them back together before raising herself up from rock bottom.
It was tiring—this constant act of coming undone and patching herself back into something whole. But she knew what it was like to have been condemned before being given a chance, and Carmen wasn’t about to do the same and give up on herself.
“I can’t do that,” she mumbled under her breath, letting her body fall back into the soft cushions as all the energy drained away from her bones.
“Why not?” Hunter asked, that sour look still on his face.
“Because…” Carmen pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling her chest tighten with something she couldn’t explain. “He, uh, he doesn’t—he doesn’t know.”
At first, confusion swam in Hunter’s eyes then understanding dawned on his features. Carmen watched as his expression softened and the annoyance slipped away from his demeanour. Pushing himself off the other couch, he walked towards Carmen and then dropped down next to her, leaning back against the cushions and tipping his head back on the headrest.
“Then let him know,” Hunter said, shrugging as he kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“No,” Carmen said hastily, eyes widening and her heart jolting sharply in her chest. “No, don’t be ridiculous, Hunter. I can’t do that—I mean, Asa and I—we—things are good, okay? Really good. I love what he and I have but... Letting him see this part of me, telling him about where I come from—I can’t—it… it’s just going to make…” Carmen sighed heavily, feeling weighed down by something she couldn’t touch. “I…I feel like what we have is pure, you know? And I don’t—Hunter, I can’t let that part of me taint it,” she finished saying in a small voice.
“It’s not a part of you, Carmen,” Hunter told her quietly. “It is you. You need to stop pretending like it’s a piece of cloth—like it’s something you can take off whenever you want.”
“I’m not sure if you’re trying to make me feel better or worse.”
Hunter sighed and shot her a flat look. “What I mean is, you’re keeping your birth at an arm’s length instead of owning it and letting it sink in—really sink in.”
“I’m fine.” Carmen looked away. “It’s worked this far, and I’ve always managed to pick myself back up.”
“Maybe, but it’s also acting as a barrier when it comes to you letting Asa all the way in.”
Carmen stiffened, and Hunter seemed to notice it, because he turned to face her with a weary expression, as if expecting her to lash out at him again.
“You know nothing about Asa and me,” she muttered, curling her fingers into her palm.
“No, I don’t,” he replied easily. “And do you know why? Because I wasn’t around—because I wasn’t a part of your life. And do you know why that was? Because I put up a barrier that didn’t allow you all the way in. And that cost me you, Carmen.” Hunter averted his gaze, jaw clenching. “After that, it was a downward spiral. Shutting down mentally, closing off and pushing away people—it all became so easy, almost as natural as breathing. If you let this keep dragging you down, it’s going to cost you Asa. And then more.”
Carmen blinked back a fresh set of tears, her throat tightening and making it even more painful to speak. “I don’t know how to—how would I even say it? How am I supposed to actually say the words—I don’t…”
“See,” Hunter murmured, the uncharacteristically soft tone of his voice catching Carmen off guard. “The problem isn’t that you think he’s going to love you any less. It’s that you’ve never actually said the words out aloud. And saying them would make it all real and you’re not ready to accept that.”
Despite the harsh, bitter truth in his words, Carmen chose not to confirm them and instead looked at Hunter through the corner of her eyes. “You can’t know that,” she said quietly.
“Yes, I can,” he said, smiling sadly. “Because when you broke down in the car just an hour ago as we were leaving the dinner, I wanted to tell you that I never meant any of those things I said to you. I wanted to tell you that you’re so much more than a broken heart, that you weren’t an abomination, that I’m sorry, that I lo—that you matter to me. I wanted to tell you how I wish I could take everything back. But I couldn’t bring myself to say
