Give it space my love - give it time, my love,
Oh, oh listen, hear me.
I won't be too far honest,
Trust me, I've been you before.
"Not bad," Auggie seemed to be choosing his words while trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his hands. Over time, Annie's tears had turned into anger, and she was not afraid of sharing that with him too.
"The jab is back, right?" The question was thrown around more like a statement, but his sigh deterred her confidence. "Right, Auggie?"
"I heard about last night," he started after a few moments. He had hoped that he would not have had to have this conversation, but that seemed impossible at this point. "I know from firsthand experience what it's like to push too hard after a trauma."
"I'm not."
Both he and she knew better than that.
"I am, but what's wrong about wanting to get back on your feet?" She tried to sound casual but he could still feel something hiding beneath her words.
"It's not just about your feet. You lost someone. It's about your heart. I can feel you wanting to get back into the field and make it right, but it's not time." It was something he had been avoiding bringing up. He knew he should have tried having this talk sooner, but it was common knowledge that if Annie Walker gets something in her head it was damn near impossible to stop her - and no one knew that better than he did.
"All I'm thinking about is my footwork."
"Footwork's good. Breaking into other people's houses not so good."
"Put 'em back up," she demanded. Her deflection was not lost on him, but with a discontented sigh he complied. Within moments, her heavy swings were interrupted by a slight grunt of pain.
"You alright?" His voice managed to mask some of his concern. She failed to even breathe while nodding her head in silence even though she knew he could not see the gesture.
"I'm okay," she spoke after another moment, "I'm okay."
He tried to suppress another sigh because the truth was that they both knew she was not okay; neither was he. And yet here Annie and he were, dancing around the lies and the truth - and in the end each other - just like they always did.
As her fists started back into rhythm, he drew in a sharp breath of frustration. He was growing tired of them dancing around each other instead of dancing with each other. She would be terse and bite at him, but he tried to be patient. He had been where she was and knew how she was feeling. In fact, if anyone in the world knew how she felt it was him, and he would have done anything to take it away from her. But she had learned one of the hardest lessons of the business and there was nothing he wanted more than for her to go back to being the foolish romantic she had been before. She had said once that she liked that he was always the optimist, but she was wrong; there were times she needed an optimist, and so he became that.
Auggie began to wonder about how he could have been so oblivious to the moment that they started lying to one another and hiding things. He hated that they had shut each other out, lied to each other, and that they were lying to each other now in the silence. It should have been expected of them to lie and lie well, and they certainly did, but it did not make it any easier. And even though he blamed himself for the chasm growing between them, he felt that even with all their faults they still managed to hold each other up. At the end of the day, all their lies and all their silence became afterthoughts in the deafening static of the ocean waves. The firm grip they had on each other was sometimes the only thing left they could feel. And there were times he knew they both wished they felt nothing at all, but it was never when they were beside each other. It was the only time the emptiness and weight in their hearts seemed to be less.
But maybe he was just being an optimist now.
