Endure

T W E N T Y

I froze, looking up at him.

"I know there's a lot going on right now but I never once, for a second, even thought about putting the blame for any of it on you," he said, his eyes never leaving mine and this time, there was something behind them - sincerity.

The stirring of my thoughts slowed at his words. I tore my eyes away from him, not being able to bring myself to meet his eyes because I couldn't bring my mind to believe his words.

Here I had been so snappy and difficult toward him yet he still found no reason to blame me for anything. The blur of questions in my mind began to clear and all I could focus on was one thought: He was too good.

"If the envelope is returned to the right person," Daniel spoke up, breaking me out of my thoughts. "That would solve all of this. At least, that's what I'm hoping. But the fact that it's here, not with the right person right now, is what is dangerous. I just found it, but I don't know how long it's been in my car and it can't be in here any longer. It shouldn't have ever been in here in the first place. My brother should've never even had it."

I shook my head. "I still don't get why you have to give it to me."

"Because you know her best," he replied firmly.

Now I was definitely confused. "What? Who--"

"Or you were close to her," he clarified with a nod. "What's most important is that it gets into the hands of the right person and that's not me and it certainly was never my brother."

"But--"

"It has to be you," he emphasized. "Her brother knows about this but we both thought it'd be better if you gave it to her. We weren't sure if she'd be comfortable knowing that her brother is aware of all this."

My mind spun, struggling to keep up with all of this. "Daniel, what is going on?"

He let out a sigh, lifting his eyes to me. "I don't know."

My eyes stayed on his, taking in the weariness behind them and my soul slowly deflated inside. Never had I heard him say those words. For so long, he was the one that always seemed to know more and just have a better grip on life. He was the one I always knew I could count on for comfort and stability. He was the one that seemed to have a way to fix everything and make everything feel like it was going to be okay. But now we were both in the same place of loss and confusion.

"Look. I know I approached this the wrong way and I'm sorry--"

"Where's the envelope?" I asked, holding out my hand. Deep inside, I cringed at how rude it was for me to cut him off, especially in the middle of his apology. But the truth was, I didn't know how much longer I could take standing here in front of him. Hearing an apology from him would make it worse.

He paused, looking at me before retrieving the envelope and handing it to me. "Thank you," he said lowly, his gaze holding mine.

My breath caught in my throat. Those eyes. His eyes. Their deep brown color holding so much gentleness and desperation, I didn't know what to do anymore. He always had the most kind gentle eyes.

And just like that, all the memories came flooding back. The times we laughed together. The times we danced together, whether there was music playing or not. The times I'd reach for his hand and he'd slip his fingers between mine. The times we'd kiss. The times we'd talk about everything and nothing and it didn't matter because at least we were together . . .

He cleared his throat, snapping me out of my daydream and I averted my gaze to the envelope in my hand. "I don't know what I was thinking with the cinnamon rolls. I just didn't want it to be awkward," he finished, lifting his eyes to meet mine.