Always Only You by Chloe Liese (z-lib.org).epub

myself for her to pull away, to reject the gesture. But she doesn’t. Instead she
slides her fingers tighter with mine. “Thank you for telling me, Frankie. For
trusting me.”
She tips her head, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “I wish I’d told you sooner.
But when I met you, you were just another player on the team. It didn’t seem
necessary.”
One little word—were—but it makes hope soar through my body.
“Can I ask why you don’t tell others? Why you’re telling me now? If that’s
personal, I understand.”
Frankie squeezes my hand, and I have to stifle the rough inhale it causes. Her
palm’s soft and cool from the night air. It fits perfectly inside mine.
“I have a…a mask that I wear for work,” she answers. “I hide a lot of myself
to do my job. Why tell people I’m autistic when I act like I’m not?”
“Isn’t that exhausting?” I remember that being Ziggy’s refrain: I’m so tired.
So tired of pretending and still feeling like I suck at it. I feel invisible. Even to
myself.
“Yes.” She smiles. “Thus, law school. Studying and negotiating the law, it’s
a strength to be fastidiously observant and detail-oriented, methodical, hyperfocused,
literal, direct. Sometimes I worry what I’ll do when I miss things
interpersonally. I know law can get dirty and people can twist their words, but
I’m not battling it out in a courtroom. I’ll be reading fine print, negotiating
contracts for clients I get to know well, so I think I’ll do okay. I’ll get to truly be
myself.”
“I’m happy for you, Frankie. You deserve to be yourself. At work. With
friends. Anywhere.”
She peers up at me, another one of her incisive stares. “Thank you.”
Pazza barks and spins, chasing her tail. We glance over at her as quiet settles
between us but for the incessant pound of the ocean nearby.
“You remember I have a small country’s worth of siblings, right?”
Frankie wrinkles her nose, clearly confused. “Yes?”
“My little sister is on the spectrum. So, while everyone’s unique, and I’m no
expert, I love someone who’s autistic. And I hope you know I’m a safe place for
you to be you.”
Frankie sniffs and wipes her nose. Blinks a few times and dabs her eyes with
the heel of her hand, gripping her sweatshirt.
“You okay?”
“I’m not crying,” she says immediately.
I squeeze her hand, rubbing my thumb in a gentle circle across her palm. “Of
course not.”