Whispered Prayers of a Girl

by Alex Grayson

  He stops and his breathing becomes labored as he stares off into space. His eyes look wild, and I know he’s reliving the horror of that moment. I grab hold of his wet cheeks, the blanket falling from my shoulders, and make him look at me, desperate for that look to disappear. The roughness of his beard on the left side feels so different than the smoothness of his scars on the other side.

  His eyes meet mine and they appear unfocused, as if he’s not seeing me.

  “Alexander,” I call, making sure my voice comes out strong when I feel anything but. “Look at me.” I give him a shake.

  I don’t know if it’s my tone or the fact I’m so close to him, but he seems to snap out of it. He flinches, but I don’t let that affect me.

  “You’re not there anymore,” I tell him quietly. “You’re here with me right now.”

  His eyes flick back and forth between mine and he frowns, then gives me a nod. I’m surprised when his head drops from my hand and he lays it against my shoulder. Next, his arms wrap around my middle, and I’m forced to get back up on my knees. He’s hunched over me as he seeks comfort.

  His voice comes out muffled and broken when he speaks next. I already know what he’s going to say, but it still hurts nonetheless.

  “She begged and begged me to help Rayne up until the water covered her face, and even then, her eyes pleaded with me until she couldn’t hold her breath anymore. I watched her drown, and I couldn’t do a damn thing. I let my baby and wife die.” I’m shaking my head no, but don’t get a chance to voice my objection. “I tried so fucking hard, Gwen, I swear I did, but I couldn’t get free. My arm had gouges from me pulling so hard. When the flames reached my upper body, I wanted it to devour me. I wanted to die. If they couldn’t live, then neither would I. Right as it got to my face, someone yanked open my door. It was pouring outside so the rain coming in helped control the fire long enough for them to throw water on me. I already felt dead inside when they pulled me from the car. The pain of the burns was searing and unbearable, but the pain of knowing I’d lost my wife and newborn baby couldn’t compare.”

  My shirt is soaked by the time he’s done. My own face is drenched in tears as well. Even though I was the one giving him comfort, I still cling to him just as tightly as he clings to me. His weight sags against me, and I know it’s not only from the alcohol, but from emotional exhaustion.

  We stay this way for a while, him with his arms wrapped around my waist, his head against my shoulder, and me with my head resting on top of his. I pull the blanket around us both.

  After a few minutes, he pulls back, and his tired eyes look up at me. I wipe away my own tears and sit back on my legs. My eyes feel swollen from crying and his carry so much pain. I don’t know what to do to help him. There’s really nothing I can do to help him.

  “I’m sorry, Alexander.” It sounds so inadequate for what he’s gone through. “I’m so sorry for what you went through. For what they went through. I can’t imagine….” I close my eyes and take a deep breath before opening them again. I can’t even finish the thought because it’s too incomprehensible.

  He swallows, then nods. It looks like he wants to say more, but his eyes drop to my shirt and he notices it’s drenched.

  “Shit,” he grumbles scratchily. “Sorry.”

  It’s a weird thing to notice at a time like this, but I think it’s more of an avoidance thing. Now that he’s told his story and has relived the pain, he’s only too willing to push it aside and try to focus on something else. From the look in his eyes, his attempt isn’t successful. I have a feeling it won’t ever be successful. How does someone recover from something like that?

  I shake my head, letting him know I don’t care about my shirt.

  “Please don’t apologize.” It almost comes out as begging. I feel restless because there’s so much I want to say, but I know none of it will ever be good enough. “I don’t know what to do,” I tell him honestly. “I wish so much there was something I could do to help your pain, but I know there’s not.”

  “You’ve helped me already,” he responds quietly, confusing me.

  He looks down at his hands and flexes his fingers. I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders when a gust of wind sweeps over us.

  He’s quiet for a few minutes, then turns hazy eyes my way. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it and shakes his head, as if mentally warring with himself. Pulling in a deep breath, he tries again. “I can’t drive.” He looks over to my truck, then back to me. “But we need to get you out of the cold. Can you take me home?”

  Pleased that he’s asked, I nod. I’d stay out here in the cold all night if I had to, but I’m glad he wants to go home. I know being here makes him feel closer to his wife and baby, but the way he’s drinking his sorrows and guilt away hinders his grieving process. We’ll never forget the ones we love, they’ll be with us always, but we need to learn to live without them, to not let the pain of their loss rule our lives. Alexander hasn’t been grieving, he’s been living in his pain all these years. He’s not learning to move on, he’s staying in place and immersing himself in guilt.

  “Yes.”

  I stand, still holding onto the blanket, and wait for him to follow. He doesn’t at first, just sits there and looks around in the dark, as if searching for something. I give him a few minutes as I gather the two bottles of Jameson and a brown paper bag. It takes him a moment, but then he slowly gets to his feet. He’s surprisingly steadier than I thought he would be, but his movements are sluggish as we make our way over to my truck. His eyes linger on the two crosses we pass, and even in the dark I can see fresh heartache on his face.

  He climbs inside without saying a word. His eyes appear distant, like he’s not in himself right now. I throw the blanket and trash in the back.

  “Do you have your keys?” I ask.

  I get a single nod in response. Walking over to his truck, I lock the doors, then go back to mine. It’s cold inside, but thankfully my truck heats up quickly. Neither of us speak as we make the five-minute drive to his house.

  He doesn’t ask me inside, but I get out anyway. The only light that’s on is the one by the barn, and it’s dark enough that I have trouble seeing my way to the porch. Thankfully, he walks slowly, and I’m able to follow him. I trip when I make it to the steps, but he turns and catches me before I fall, then guides me up the rest of the way. I have no idea how he’s able to move so smoothly with so much alcohol in his system. My only guess is his highly emotional state must have helped burn off some of the effects.

  Keys jingle once we’re standing in front of the door, and a second later, we’re inside. He stops several feet away with his back to me. His head is hanging forward and the defeated posture makes me ache for him.

  I walk up and place my hand on his back. Keeping my voice low, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  He shakes his head, then answer verbally. “No.”

  “What can I do?” I’m whispering now.

  He turns and regards me with bleak eyes. “Stay with me,” he answers gruffly. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  There’s no hesitation when I nod. “Okay.” Relief immediately covers his face. “I need to call Jeremy and let him know I won’t be home tonight.”

  When Jeremy came by the house to watch the kids earlier, I told him I didn’t know how long I’d be. He told me to take as long as I needed. I didn’t tell him what I was doing exactly, just that I was going to check on a friend, but I think he knew anyway. The kids have mentioned Alexander a few times, and I’m sure he saw something when he picked the kids and me up after the snowstorm. He never said a word, but his eyes held understanding.

  Once I get off the phone with Jeremy, who said he’d stay with the kids, I shed my jacket. I find the living room empty and the kitchen the same way. I walk down the hallway, where I see light filtering out of his bedroom. Unsure of what I’ll find, I walk cautiously into his room. Gigi is on her bed sleeping soundly. I find Alexander in the bathroom, stari
ng at his reflection in the mirror. He’s looking at himself as if he’s disgusted with what he sees. I understand the reaction, even if I don’t agree with it. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, on the inside and out. I just wish he saw that himself.

  I walk up behind him, but stay to the side so I can keep him in view. At first, he doesn’t seem to notice me, but when I stop behind him, his eyes flicker to mine. The look of revulsion disappears and something else takes its place. Reverence, maybe? Wonder? Confusion? I’m not sure.

  He holds my stare, and I wonder what he’s thinking. What’s going through his head? Before I get a chance to dwell on it, he turns around, grabs my hand, and leads me back into his room, flipping the light off as he goes. We stop at the side of the bed. He pulls back the covers, and without asking, I slip off my shoes and climb in. He reaches back and tugs off his shirt before following me.

  Under different circumstances, butterflies would be swarming in my stomach right now. Being in bed with Alexander is something I never thought would happen, but I’ll admit, I’ve secretly wondered what it would be like, especially the last few days. Now though, after everything that’s happened today, sex is the last thing on my mind. Comfort is what he needs right now.

  My eyes briefly hit on the scars on his chest before I bring them up to meet his.

  “Roll over,” he says deeply.

  I roll over, and as soon as I do, a wall of warm muscle meets my back. His arms band around my waist, tugging me against him, and his legs spoon mine. My arms line up against his. The embrace is tight and secure, and I get the sense he needs that right now, to feel connected to someone.

  His warm breath blows across the back of my neck. “Thank you.”

  My arms tighten against his and tears prick the backs of my eyes at the way his words crack as they leave his throat. He buries his face in my hair, and I hear him take a deep, shaky breath.

  I lie there for a long time, going over what he revealed tonight and wondering how he’s coped this whole time. Not because guilt should have eaten away at him, but because of how he lost his family. His baby was only seven weeks old. He never got to have her in his home. And to watch them die right in front of his eyes, knowing there was nothing he could do; and there wasn’t anything he could do, no matter how much he may think otherwise. No man, woman, or child should have to witness something so horrific. For him to do so and still manage to get by just shows how strong he is. But then I wonder how well he is managing. Watching him tonight talk about his family, he looked half dead, like a vital part of him was missing.

  I close my eyes and bring one of his hands up to my mouth, kissing the back of it. Learning what he’s been through makes me want to cement myself into his life even more. To love him and help bring him back to the living. To cherish the great man he is and the wonderful father he could be. Something tells me, like a soft whisper in the night, that I was meant to meet this man for a reason. My kids and I were brought into his life not by coincidence, but by fate.

  His breathing against my neck has evened out, indicating he’s asleep. I relax my body against him more, wanting no gaps or spaces between us.

  “Good night, Alexander,” I say softly into the dark, not expecting a reply.

  “Good night, Gwendolyn,” he whispers, surprising me, then kisses the back of my neck.

  I don’t know if he did it in his sleep or if he’s fully conscious, but regardless of the reason, it brings comfort to my own beaten heart, solidifying that I’m exactly where I belong.

  Chapter 16

  Alexander

  I wake with a dry mouth, pissed-off stomach, and headache from hell, but none of that matters because I have something warm and sweet in my arms. Something I know shouldn’t be there, but I cherish it just the same.

  The sun is bright coming in the window, so I shove my face deeper in Gwen’s hair. I breathe in deep, loving the smell of her. It’s amazing how right she feels in my arms. I wish I could hold her here forever.

  Memories of yesterday run through my mind. I totally fucking lost it in front of her and told her everything. She had a right to know, especially because I know she feels something for me.

  She didn’t say much or act disgusted, but given time to think about it, that doesn’t mean she won’t today. Gwen’s a good, loving woman, and I know she doesn’t judge, but what happened to my family, what I couldn’t prevent, would turn anyone’s stomach. Rationally, I know there was nothing I could do to save my family, but my heart screams at me, saying there had to have been something I could have done. I could have told the doctors that since it was so late, we should wait until the morning to bring Rayne home. The only reason I didn’t was because Clara and I were both so excited about finally being able to bring her home and start living our lives as a family. I could have not jerked the wheel so much or tried harder to keep control of the car. Maybe they would still be alive if I had just slammed on the brakes and hit the car head-on instead of swerving.

  There are so many what-ifs. Too many for the guilt that plagues me to let it rest.

  I pinch my eyes shut and force away the painful memories. I don’t want them to pull me under right now. Not when I have Gwen in my arms, because I don’t know how much longer that will last. I wouldn’t blame her if knowing what she knows now changes her feelings toward me.

  She shifts in sleep, and as inappropriate as it is under the circumstances, my body reacts. I will my growing erection to go away, but unfortunately, it has a mind of its own. The more I’m around her, the harder it gets to keep that reaction at bay. I want her so fucking bad. My body’s been deprived of release, and now that it’s found something it wants, it wants it now. It’s more than just my body that craves Gwen, though, it’s my soul as well.

  And your heart, my mind whispers.

  She moves again, rubbing against me harder, and I can’t keep back the low groan. My arms tighten around her, trying to hold her still. Now is not the fucking time for this. I need to know how she sees me now that she knows of my inability to save my family.

  I’m not sure if it’s my arms tightening around her or if it was my groan, but her body stiffens, letting me know she’s awake.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice rough with sleep. I keep my arms around her when she tries to pull away.

  “Don’t apologize,” I say gruffly. I’ve noticed she apologizes a lot, and I wonder if it stems from her need to please. She has that sweetness about her, and I’m sure it bothers her if she knows she’s displeased someone.

  In an attempt to loosen her up, I rub circles on her upper arm. I don’t want her to be anxious around me, particularly over something as natural as sex. I don’t see the sexual tension we have between us dissipating anytime soon, especially on my end. Luckily, she starts to relax.

  As much as I want to keep us in our quiet cocoon, I need to look at her and see what’s she’s thinking. I pull my arm from around her waist and get up on an elbow. With my chest no longer behind her, she rolls to her back. My chest meets the side of her, and I put my free arm on the other side of her hip. She looks so beautiful lying below me. When her eyes meet mine, her expression is unsure.

  “Thank you for last night,” I tell her. Before anything else is said, I need her to know that no matter how she feels about me, I’m grateful for her being there with me last night. More than just under the bridge, but letting me hold her as well. Every year, I’ve always made sure I was alone for their anniversary, but having Gwen there last night made it a little bit easier.

  She takes one of her hands and places the palm against my cheek. I close my eyes, loving the feeling of her soft skin against mine. It’s the side where my scars are. She seems to do that a lot; touch my scars. I don’t have feeling on that side like I do on the left. Surprisingly, when she touches me, I feel her touch as if I do.

  “There was no way I could leave you alone. I was where I needed to be.”

  Her softly spoken words are music to my ears, but I’m
still unsure how she feels about what I said last night. Insecurity is a bitch and can grip even the surest person. I don’t feel particularly strong at the moment, and I need to know what she’s thinking.

  “Why did you stay?” I ask, unable to hold back the tone of uncertainty.

  Her eyes turn sad. It’s a look I want gone from her face.

  Instead of answering my question, she states quietly, “Alexander, there was nothing you could do to stop what happened to them.”

  Part of me knows what she says is true, but a bigger part says otherwise. I’ve tried so fucking hard to let go of the guilt, but it’s festered so much that it’s a part of me now.

  She sees the turmoil in my eyes and cups my other cheek. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her touch.

  “There was nothing you could do,” she says more forcefully, but her eyes remain soft. “No matter how many ways you alter something in your mind, if it wasn’t meant to be, then it wouldn’t have changed anything. We don’t have control over what happens to us in life. The only thing we can do is live it the best way we can.”

  I want to believe her so fucking bad, and maybe one day I will, but it’s still too fresh to believe right now.

  “Why did you stay?” I ask again, needing to know if it was only out of sympathy for someone who was in pain, or if it was something more.

  Her eyes flick back and forth between mine for several seconds, as if trying to figure out how to answer my question. My heart thumps heavily against my ribs as I anxiously wait. Her eyes only give away her nervousness and show no clue as to what her answer will be.

  “Because,” she starts, then licks her lips. “Because I care about you a lot and seeing you in so much pain….” She closes her eyes as if she’s in pain herself. I can tell she’s fighting against her emotions and ultimately wins the battle when she opens them again. “It was hard seeing you like that, and I wanted to help in any way I could.”