She nervously adjusted her hair at least a dozen times while I finished my cigarette. She even scooted down the rail a few feet, and much to her dismay, I slid down with her.
“You aren’t going to leave, are you?” She sniffled.
“No.”
“Sam, I’m—”
I pushed off the rail and spun to face her. “Don’t say fine. Whatever word you’re planning to finish with, don’t let it be fine.” I huffed and shoved a rough hand through my hair. I was probably overreacting, but I couldn’t risk that I wasn’t. “I get it. You don’t know me, but in some ways, that makes me the perfect person to talk to. So, please, I’m begging you. Tell me what’s going on with you. Just give me your story. I’m not here to judge.”
“I can’t,” she said, swiping two fingers under her glasses to dry the tears.
I would have given anything to be able to see her eyes—get a real read on her. Her mouth and her body language only gave away so much, but I needed more.
“Well, then. I’m sorry if me being here bothers you, but I can’t walk away. You don’t have to talk, but you’re stuck with me until you walk down off this bridge.”
Tilting her head up to the sky, she sucked in deep breath. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
“Fine. Then you stand there and babysit me. Last night was shitty for me.” I pointedly lifted my eyebrows at her. “And this morning wasn’t any better. I could use a babysitter.” I blew out a breath, trying to check my attitude.
She didn’t deserve it. She obviously had enough going on without some stranger blowing up at her too.
Humor. I can do that.
“And, as my babysitter, if you’re fighting the urge to pat my ass and tell me that it’s all going to be okay, I definitely wouldn’t stop you.” I flashed her a grin that I knew would go unanswered. I was okay with that though, because she stopped moving away.
Her chin quivered as she chewed on her bottom lip.
I fucking hated seeing her like that and had to ball my fists at my sides to keep from reaching out to touch her. I was desperate to console her, but I was already forcing my company on her. I wasn’t going to do it physically, too.
That wasn’t what she needed.
What does she need?
I swallowed hard when her shoulders began to shake as sobs ricocheted inside her chest, seemingly unable to find a way out.
Fuck it. Maybe just a little touch.
I slid a hand down the rail to cover hers.
It was a simple gesture, but it was easily the greatest decision I’d ever made.
That one touched destroyed a wall.
I wasn’t even sure whose wall it had been to begin with—hers or mine.
But I would have spent my entire life tearing it down if I could have only predicted what was on the other side.
Spinning, she threw her arms around my neck. Caught off guard, I stumbled back a step before steadying us both. Folding my arms around her waist, I pulled her flush against me. Sobs ravaged her, but I held her as though I could siphon them away.
I couldn’t, but just trying returned to me far more than I was giving her.
And, for that alone, I squeezed her even tighter.
Tourists bustled by us, probably staring as they passed. But only one person on that bridge mattered.
It wasn’t me.
And, for once, it wasn’t even Anne.
I actually didn’t know her name at all.
“I’m sorry… I’m…” She continued to cry into my neck.
“Don’t be sorry,” I croaked around a lump in my throat.
Nothing else was said for several minutes as she wept in my arms. I didn’t whisper soothing words. I just stroked her back and allowed her time to collect herself.
What would I have I said anyway? Why she was crying in the first place was a mystery to me, but it was one I was determined to solve.
Finally, she stepped out of my grasp and began frantically drying her eyes. “I need to go. I’m really sorry about that.”
I immediately wanted her back.
Safe.
In my arms.
To keep my hands busy, I dragged a cigarette out. “Please don’t go,” I whispered as I lifted it to my mouth.
“I have to get off this bridge,” she replied.