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Emerge into Forever

Page 7

by Andrea Michelle


  Speaking of eyes, I open the door of the hospital room and make my way down to the waiting room to meet Emily. I find her...and a set of beautiful hazel eyes that zero in on me. Eyes that used to love me, but now see me as cold-hearted. Only if he knew my heart is cold because he took the warmth with him months ago.

  Josh is alone while Collin and Emily are having a quiet argument in the corner, which I assume is because of me and my current nightmare. I am caught in a trap—his gaze is so intense and full of many emotions. I feel his anger vibrating off of him. Emily spots me, notices his demeanor and walks toward me with pity written all over her face. I hate it. I move further into the room. I try and fail to not look at Josh. He's like a magnet to me. I’m the moth to the flame. He runs his hand behind his neck, the way he does when he's nervous, or aggravated. I notice when he winces and pulls his hand through his hair and then back to his lap. Oh, my God...his hand!

  "What happened to your hand?" I ask him in a small voice.

  He smirks in a satisfied way that makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. He leans back in the chair that he is sitting in and glances at Collin. No, no, no. My stomach drops. I look over to Collin and lift a questioning brow. He shakes his head to silently inform me that he didn't tell Josh what really happened. Then, what the ever-loving hell? It’s like his eyes have a string to my own because I feel his gaze pulling my own back to him. Josh rolls his wrist and flexes his swollen fingers.

  "I'm good, pretty girl. You should see the other guy."

  My eyes widen and his narrow. The way he said, "pretty girl" wasn't full of endearment the way it once had been. In fact, it held a tremble of a bitter tone that breaks my already splintered heart. Would he ever forgive me for my weakness?

  "What did you do?" I whisper and blink my eyes, trying hard not to cry.

  Emily must know I won't like his response because she interlaces our fingers.

  He tracks our movement and then looks into to my wide eyes. "Aww...Are you worried I broke his pretty face, Riley?"

  I literally choke back a sob from his venomous words, and bite my lip so painfully that I can taste blood. No, I’m worried about you, about me. I'm shaking my head back and forth as Collin steps up in contemplation on intervening. I hate seeing him so torn. Collin has a cut on his lip and the dots begin to connect for me. They confronted Dean. I stare hard at Josh, not even recognizing my best friend any longer. Another piece falls from my chest. I'm frozen. The words are stuck inside my throat along with the knot that has been permanently in place there. Emily tugs my hand and grabs my attention causing me to blink my eyes and look away from the hatred I see in Josh's.

  "I need to go," I tell her—pleading with her.

  She nods and we turn around to leave.

  Josh obviously wants to rip my entire heart out, though.

  "I probably left a mess for you? Sorry about that. I'm sure you're going to check on that asshole," he states to retreating back.

  Now, I'm angry. He’s sure? He’s fucking sure? He knows nothing. Nothing at all. I'm pissed at him for thinking the worst of me. I turn to him with my own murderous glare.

  "Dammit, Josh. Shut the hell up, man," Collin intervenes.

  I open and shut my mouth ready to defend myself, but I know if I do, my voice will crack and I will lose it. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart. As it is, tears are already escaping against my will. Josh notices them falling and for a moment I glimpse the boy I love, the hazel eyes that love me in return. He almost cringes as though my sadness hurts him. His mouth opens and shuts, but nothing ever comes out of either of our lips.

  I turn and walk away knowing that the truth is far worse than the lie he believes.

  When we get outside and are walking to the car, the well breaks. I'm gasping for air and choking on the sobs that have overtaken me. I’m in a full fledge panic attack and I can’t stop it.

  "Breathe, Riley. Just breathe,” she tells me. “Come 'ere." Em wraps me in her arms, cooing and gently rubbing my back until I’m slightly more relaxed. "You need to tell him what Dean did, Riley."

  I pull away from her and try to breathe in air, shaking my head furiously. "I...I can't. He will kill him and...and he will look at me diff...differently," I manage to choke out between breaths.

  Emily tilts her head to the side. "Different how? He's already looking at you differently because he's angry with you. He's hurt, but he's in the dark. Are you protecting, Dean?"

  I shake my head back and forth rapidly. "No, I'm...I'm protecting, Josh."

  And once again I'm frozen. I can feel his presence before I even turn my head to see them walking toward the parking lot. I can feel his eyes on me and so I turn to meet them. He takes one look at me and I see it..."Oh, God! Collin told him."

  Emily looks at me with wide eyes, and then back to Collin, who frowns and looks away. I don't even realize I'm doing it, but I'm backing away as Josh moves in closer.

  Don’t cry, don’t you dare cry anymore. I don’t want the tears to fall. I don’t want him to know what’s happened to me, or to look at me the way he is now—with pity and sorrow. I want to act like it never happened. I shouldn’t have told anyone. No way does he get to feel pity for me, not when he hated me just minutes ago. I get to the door of the car and frantically pull on the handle to no avail. It's locked.

  "Em, open the door. Please, let's go," I plead with her.

  She reaches into her purse to grab her keys, but not fast enough. He's at my side in a flash.

  "Don't go," he says the words like a breath of air against my damp cheeks.

  It causes goose bumps to race on my skin. The softness in his voice is a major contrast to the harshness he just threw at me moments ago. My stomach free falls.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and force air into my lungs. I can't look at him. "Please, I need to leave." I beg as the tears flow silently.

  I feel him take my hand off of the handle of the car door. My eyes remain shut. I feel him lift my sleeve and rub his finger along the marks left on my wrist. And then I feel his soft lips as he kisses those marks. The tears are no longer silent. I'm completely and utterly broken. My knees give out and I fall limp against the door, but he is there to catch me. His arms are around me and I want to fight him. I want to push him away because he hurt me so badly, but I can't. His arms are my home. His scent is the very scent I imagine next to me at night. His heartbeat is the sound that replays in my mind constantly. The beat of our music. My lullaby. And then he left me on my own. He broke his promise and he broke me. I've been so alone and I needed him. He's here now, embracing me. But is it out of love, out of pity, or out of his own guilt? I can't rationalize it at the moment because I need his warmth to soothe me.

  "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he says over and over into my hair as he holds me to him. He's running his hands along my back, up and down my arms and along my head as I cry for what feels like forever.

  When I compose myself and put my hands on his chest to push him back, I'm more aware of my emotions. They are conflicted. I want him. I need him. I love him. He left me. He didn't trust me. He accused me. He broke me.

  I gaze up to his eyes and wish for a do-over, wishing for a chance to go back to that day in the bleachers, when he admitted to being unsure about going to Louisiana. He told me he didn't think we were strong enough and I convinced him we were, but we weren’t obviously. I wish I had believed him and listened to the words he was saying. His fear was real. My reluctance was a warning. To agree and take him home with me and to have never tried a day apart. Then, maybe he wouldn't have hurt me just because he thought I would hurt him eventually. Maybe, then we would have been in each other's arms all this time instead of miserable apart. Maybe, just maybe Dean wouldn't have become so disturbed and confused. Maybe, his hands would have never touched me and his body would have never tried to claim a part of me I never agreed to give him. But maybes and wishes won't let us go back to that day. We can't go back and do any of it
differently, or change what has happened since then.

  Josh tilts his head to the side and drops his hands. He can see it in my eyes. Defeat.

  "I have to go," I whisper.

  He nods his head and wipes at the tear that has fallen from his own eyes. He reluctantly grabs my cheeks, leans in and places a kiss to my forehead like he used to always do before. Resting his forehead against mine, he opens his mouth, "I—,"

  "Not right now. Okay, Josh? I just can't do this right now," I explain and put some distance between us.

  He frowns and rubs his hand behind his neck as he nods, "Okay."

  I glance over his shoulder to Emily and Collin watching us. I nod to her and she hits the key fob to unlock the door. Once I hear the click, I turn away and climb into the seat. I don't look at him again. Not even when we are driving away.

  I press my cheek against the glass as Emily drives, letting the chill calm everything that is on fire inside of me.

  “Where are we going, Riley. Back to Arlington, or your mom’s? I don’t know where to go,” she says.

  “Will you bring me to Brandt and Rebel’s? I can’t go back to the apartment, not yet. And if I go home then I will have to face Josh again, and I can’t handle that right now. I just need somewhere to go and you need to go talk to Collin. Tell him I’m not mad that he told Josh. I know he was put in a bad spot.”

  She gives me a side-glance with nervous eyes. “Are you sure going to Brandt’s is the best idea in your condition?” she asks.

  I grow exasperated, “And what condition is that, Em? I’m not going to drink myself into a coma, okay? I just need somewhere to crash and Brandt and Rebel are like family to me. Please?” Although, a drink would erase my headache so I can sleep. Sleep and wake up in a different life.

  She frowns, but nods her head. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I was implying. I know you’re having a hard time, but Brandt and Rebel aren’t exactly the best people to rely on when you feel this way. You know that.”

  I ignore her statement knowing that she is right and rest my cheek back onto the glass while she drives. I don’t have many options to survive this night.

  We get to Brandt and Rebel’s house. I spot his vehicle in the driveway, not seeing Rebel’s beat up sedan anywhere. I glimpse over at Emily with the feeling like I am so drifted from everyone I love. She scrutinizes my eyes that I know look dead to the world. “Please, be safe, Riley. I love you. I hope you know that I’m here for you.”

  I blink my eyes, holding the tears at bay and lean in to give her a tight hug. “I love you, Emily. Go talk to Collin. We both don’t need to be miserable, right?” I give her a sad smile.

  She nods her head and I climb out of her car, waving goodbye. I really do love her. I have love to give, it’s receiving love that I struggle with.

  I knock on the door and wonder what my plan is for being here. I’m not sure what I will say to explain. I could lie and say that I just want to run some lyrics with Rebel, but he would call bullshit on that since she isn’t even home. I could tell the truth and let someone else comfort me. If I tell Brandt the truth, though, he will go bat shit crazy and do something stupid, something that he can’t take back once it’s done.

  I knock a second time still dithering in my thoughts. The door opens and Brandt is standing there dressed in black jeans and an AC/DC T-shirt. He’s always been like a big brother to me. Right now, that is what I need. The decision is made. I need someone. I need Josh, want Josh, but I can’t let him be the one to comfort me right now. I can’t always have what I want in this life. Brandt pulls his lip ring into his teeth and looks surprised to see me.

  His eyebrow lifts. “Short Stuff? You okay? Rebel’s not here,” he explains opening the door to let me in and scrutinizing me. I don’t say anything as I pass him to come inside. He knows me well enough to know I’m not okay.

  I step into his house and remember the last time I was here when I felt this way. When I let this smothering feeling take hold of me. Another dark night where I couldn’t cope with my pain and I made a mess of things. I move to the bar of his kitchen and stare at all of the bottles of liquor. For the past two or so years, this is where we came to get drunk. I place my trembling hands down on the bar and my mouth almost salivates for the pain numbing liquid to remove everything I hate feeling. Just shut it off, or make it where I don’t care as much. I turn around and find his ocean blue eyes studying me cautiously. Tears start to fall from my eyes and all I know is that I’m so lost.

  I take a deep, staggering breath and tell him, “I’m not okay. I’m not sure why I’m here, to be honest. I have nowhere else to go,” and then I come apart in front of him.

  He has me in his arms in a matter of seconds. “Oh, shit, baby girl.” He hugs me and only if it were the arms I long for then maybe I would feel better, but they aren’t, and I don’t. “Rebel has a gig tonight; she won’t be home till late. How can I help?”

  I back away and wipe at my eyes. Poor Rebel. I even left her on her own. Abandoned that friendship because the words I wrote were too painful to hear become something musical. She was right, though, when she told me I was a perfect Dark Angel. An angel with clipped wings, unable to fly out of the darkness. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. Can I use your bathroom and get myself together?”

  He grips my chin and his eyes bounce between mine. “Of course, take all the time you need.”

  I stroll down the hallway to the back bedroom and into his bathroom, shutting the door behind me and sliding down it as the tears fall from my eyes. Will it ever stop? I pull my knees into my chest and place my hands over my face. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know where to go, or what to do.

  I think back to Christmas and how Josh and I faked being together for the sake of our families. I think about when he kissed me and how it didn’t feel like he was faking it, but not enough to be real, either. I think about our fight in the parking lot because I hugged Dean after he told me his baby died. It flashes to my fight with my mom and how he held me in his arms in the snow. He called me his baby. He called me his.

  I take a deep cleansing breath and remember the night when I was here in this apartment on a mission to ruin myself because I was angry with him. I was such a mess. I am a mess. This is my fault. I do this to myself. All I wanted was to shut it off. Not feel it. Just like I’ve been doing for the past few months. He breathed life into me then and made the light shine again, but he had to leave and left me alone in the dark. I couldn’t make him stay. I couldn’t tell him that he took the light with him. Now, I look at the long dark tunnel and think the light is just a mirage, teasing me to believe in it. I tried so hard. I really did. I wanted to be strong, encouraging and all the things I didn’t really feel inside. I thought I was doing it all for him. In the end, though, he didn’t see it. He threw me back in the darkness where I can’t breathe.

  I place my hand on my chest and rub at the spot that is always tight—always aching. Sure, he’s sorry now, but it doesn’t change how quickly he assumed I’d been a slut. I detest cheating. That’s what my dad did. That’s why I trust so little in love. Doesn’t he realize everything by now? I’d never do that. I couldn’t do that. God, he’s it for me, and yet he’s nothing to me at the same time.

  I climb to my feet and stare at myself in the mirror. “Who are you?” I ask my reflection. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. She never answers, just gives me a blank stare. I splash water on my face and try to breathe. How could he think so little of me? Why would he ever think I’d so easily climb into bed with Dean? With Dean! Doesn’t he know me at all? My heart pounds so hard inside my chest that I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I sit on the toilet seat and put my head in between my knees trying to slow my breathing and racing heart. This is why I shut it off. This is why I’d rather feel numb and nothing at all. This. This fucking hurts. I hate panic attacks.

  I take a few calming breaths and dab some toilet paper to my eyes. I don’t carry around makeup like most girl
s, as it’s not something I care much about, so I clean my face up the best that I can. My eyes are red and puffy from tears and I look completely strung out from lack of sleep. I’m completely spent. I heave a sigh as I head out of Brandt’s bedroom.

  Stopping dead cold in my tracks in the hallway, I hear Josh’s voice from the living room. “…hurt her again. I can’t protect her from Louisiana, Brandt. You’ve gotta keep an eye on her for me, man. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  The sound of a wall being punched makes me jump and my hand covers my mouth as I quietly gasp. My body begins to tremble and I can’t move. Brandt’s voice booms, “I knew there was something about that prick I didn’t like. That motherfucker is dead, Josh. Dead.”

  I creep into the living room feeling my nerves kicking in, barely aware of my feet moving. Josh has his back to me, but when Brandt cast his eyes over his shoulder at me, he slowly turns. My eyes are wide and fearful as I stare at them both. Josh runs his hands into his hair, pulling on the ends and looking between Brandt and me. “Riley?” He turns to Brandt, “You didn’t tell me she was here.

  Brandt shrugs, “You didn’t ask. She showed up crying. I didn’t know what happened.” I narrow my eyes and he sighs heavily, looking at me apologetically.

  Josh turns his attention fully onto me now, turning his back on Brandt. He rakes his eyes over me, taking me in. He tries to move toward me, but I step back. I feel angry. How dare he tell Brandt about what happened to me? That’s not his place to tell. He must know what I’m thinking because he tries to explain. “I had to tell him, Riley. Someone needs to protect you.”

  “I can take care of myself, Josh!” I retort with annoyance. I can’t.

  He grabs his head and looks to the ceiling. “That’s not what I meant. I know you can take of yourself. I just want to protect you, that’s all.” He drops his hands, and softly shrugs. His eyes plead with me to just understand, and all I want to do is scream.

  I shake my head and wipe away the damn tears that never stop falling. I DON’T WANT TO FEEL THIS! My eyes flick to the bar. I could make it all go away with just a few glasses.

 

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