Ungullible

Chapter 23: Recognition and confession.

Sometimes it takes time to realize the truth, to make a hard decision, and to finally speak it aloud. But wait too long, and you risk forgetting the one who's been waiting to hear it.

It had been weeks, and the year was slipping towards the end its third quarter. Jason and I were still distant. Or rather, I was. He must have sensed it, because he didn't press. Instead, he gave me space, as though he understood I needed it.

Abbie came by often and noticed the shift between us. She questioned me, her eyes sharp with curiosity, but I never gave her an answer. Not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't. I didn't even understand what was happening inside me.

I'd begun turning inward, trying to untangle myself. If I ever confessed my feelings to Jason, I wanted to be certain I was enough, that I was worthy of him. But most days, I felt like I wasn't.

I asked Abbie to help me find a job, and she burst out laughing.

"Why do you need a job, Novie?" she teased, still grinning.

"I... I want to be independent," I admitted, my voice small. "You all have jobs, a life, a purpose. I don't. And I want that too."

Her laughter faded as she studied me more closely. "Really? You're not joking?"

I shook my head, earnest.

Her expression softened into a smile. "Alright then. Since you chose to confide in me, I'll help you."

"Thank you, Abbie." I wrapped my arms around her, the words spilling out in relief.

"So," I pulled back, hopeful, "where do we start?"

"Don't worry," she said, squeezing my hand. "We'll start easy. One step at a time."

Ever since that conversation, Abbie had been calling everyone she knew; asking if they needed help, if there was an opening somewhere, anywhere. But doors closed quickly. No one wanted to take on someone without experience.

The search wore me down. Each week felt heavier than the last, but in the midst of that weight, something unexpected happened. I found myself reconnecting with my step-siblings, sharing small conversations that slowly grew into real ones, learning pieces of them I'd never taken the time to know. And with my father... I made an effort too. Not because it was easy, but because I wanted to try. For once, I wanted to give him a chance.

Everything seemed to be falling into place for me except with Jason. Somehow, he and I never found the chance to speak. He was always busy, always moving, as though the weight of the world demanded his constant attention. Sometimes I wondered if he was avoiding me. Yet every time our paths crossed in the house, he would give me a small smile before slipping back into his work, leaving me with nothing but that fleeting glance.

It hurt more than I cared to admit. He had done more for me than anyone else, yet he was the one who never saw it; the quiet growth, the slow rebuilding of myself. I wanted him to notice. To see me, not as I had been, but as I was becoming.

Today, it was just Jason and me in the house. His aunt and uncle had gone off to meet with the church sponsors, leaving the silence to settle thick between the walls.

When I stepped out of my room, I found him hunched over his laptop, fingers moving swiftly across the keys, his face bathed in the pale glow of the screen. He didn't look up.

I slipped into the kitchen, almost too quickly, reaching for a glass of juice and a handful of cookies; something to keep my hands busy, something to distract me from the weight pressing in on my chest.