Avangeline hadn’t expected it. The moment the mood shifted between them and Evaline, proud as she was, showed a gloss of tears and became burdened by their weight, the calm demeanor Avangeline had put forth as a front was immediately dropped. Both surprise and concern were bright bedfellows in the amber-brown of her eyes, and her black lips had fallen apart to rest in an uncertain gap. Avangeline was so taken aback and worried that she didn’t say anything, which was probably better in the end.
How many nights had she spent tucked away in hidden groves among Crossing Isle with her cheeks slick with tears and her heart a bursting ache in her chest? Avangeline wouldn’t wish such sorrows on anyone, especially not someone of her new home.
I’m not okay.
Evaline confessed and Avangeline’s lips closed, pressed in a thin line of worry, just as her brow furrowed. Her eyes jumped across the mare’s face, seeing that moment of intense vulnerability and wanted to comfort her. The moment passed as quickly as it had come – so quickly, if the trace of tears on Evaline’s cheeks hadn’t remained, Avangeline would have worried she imagined it to begin with. From a moment of sorrow to a moment of guarded anger, Evaline’s tone cut sharp and left Avangeline to say only one thing.
“Okay.” The tone was soft, the agreement to give the mare her space and her privacy to sort through her emotions rather than crowd her or press her further.
Avangeline had spent many nights avoiding anyone who would have come near to give her comfort and she knew the importance of being alone just as much as she knew the importance of knowing someone was there if they were needed. She stood on the crest of sand up the shoreline, watching until Evaline was such a small speck among the waves she could no longer be seen.
|