by Vivian Wood
“Graham,” he replied with a smile.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt safe. I laid back in the bed and drifted off to sleep faster than I ever had before. I listened as Graham sat down in the chair next to the bed with . Part of me wanted him to stay with me until I fell asleep. But he saved me the trouble of asking and did it anyway. He read me so well, after only knowing me for a moment.
I awoke in the middle of the night in a panic attack. Something inside me felt him near. My chest felt like the size of a child’s and I could not catch my air. The room was pitch black. I remembered the lamp next to the bed and reached for it, but instead I knocked it down. It fell to the floor and shattered.
Graham no longer sat in the chair next to the bed. I tried to shout for help, but I couldn’t find the words. I choked on any air that entered my lungs. Tears stung my vision. But there was a light. It slithered into the room from the gap under the door.
A few seconds later, the door swung open and Graham charged in. He wore black slacks with thick socks like mine, but his chest remained bare. I awoke him from sleep, but his eyes showed no concern for himself.
“Emilia?” I heard him say. I could barely make him out through the veil of tears. So I reached out to him between attempted breaths.
Graham took my hands and jumped into the bed next to me. He cradled me in his arms and whispered softly.
“Breathe slow, Emilia,” he said.
I clenched onto his arms with broken fingers, ignoring the pain vibrating up my arm.
“You are safe here,” he said. “Breathe slowly.”
And as if it were magic, my chest began to feel like its normal size again. Air entered my lungs and the panic inched out of me. In my daze, fueled by oxygen deprivation, I drifted back to sleep. Graham stayed with me that night and held me until the breaking dawn.
When I awoke, he was gone. I took my time getting out of the bed, being mindful of my wounds. But for the most part, I felt good. The aches and bruises were still there, but I felt good. A pair of fleece slacks hung on the back of the chair. I threw them on before leaving, as I felt my knees get cold almost instantly.
I opened the bedroom door and entered the main room. The couch was made up with a pillow and a blanket. Graham must have slept there while I took his bed the last few nights.
“Good morning,” Graham said from the kitchen. He held two mugs of steaming liquid in his hand and offered one to me. “Hot chocolate?”
“Yes, please,” I said as I accepted the warm mug. I didn’t drink it at first and instead held it between my palms, relishing in its warmth.
I noted his clothing. He still wore his black slacks and socks. But now, instead of a bare chest, he wore a white tank that fit his chest tight.
“How are you not freezing?” I asked, smelling the warm drink.
“I prefer the cold,” he said as he sat down on the couch. He set a plate of cookies down on the table in front of us.
“I’m sorry I put you out,” I said.
“You didn’t,” he said. “I’m happy to help.”
“And for that, I am eternally thankful,” I said as I took my first sweet sip. The chocolate was thick and filled my cheeks with warm life.
“I’m thankful for the company,” he said. “You can stay for as long as you like.”
“I won’t be long,” I said quickly. “I do not wish to be a burden for you.”
“Do you have somewhere you can go?” he asked directly.
That question had plagued me ever since I ran into the the snowy night. I had nowhere to go and no one that could help me. He had made sure of that, or so I believed.
My silence spoke for me.
“You can stay for as long as you like,” he said again, showing his sweet, simple smile to me once more.
“Thank you,” I said. Graham reached out to the plate of cookies and held it out to me. I smiled and slid one off the plate. Oatmeal raisin. Oddly enough, they were my favorite. I took a nibble of the outer rim and traced my bites around it, leaving the center in tact. I took the opportunity to look around the room as we enjoyed our hot chocolate and cookies in silence. Graham lived a simple life, this much I had already figured out. His shelves held more books than movies or games. But his television was larger than mine was. When he enjoyed entertainment, he did so in style. Firewood was stacked evenly next to the fireplace in a neat pile. A rifle hung over the fireplace.
I zoned out in a conscious state, staring off into space as my mind wandered. I kept biting and chewing at my cookie, devouring the outer edges first. After a few moments, I looked up at Graham and noticed him staring at me, looking very amused.
I looked at the cookie and back at him. “Oh,” I laughed. "I’ve always done that. The center is the best part.”
It wasn’t long until the smooth beverage made my body relax again. I set the unfinished cookie down on the saucer as I started to feel light-headed and could not keep my eyes open.
“Go back to sleep,” Graham said.
“I’m not even sure I’ll be able to sleep anymore,” I said.
“Your body has been through a lot,” he said. "And you should give yourself a break. To relax.”
I let out a deep sigh, coming from the depths of my core. “I cannot argue with that last part.”
Graham escorted me to the bedroom and tucked me back into the fort of blankets and pillows. I thanked him and was pleasantly surprised by how right he was. My body was still so weak and I had no trouble drifting back to sleep.
A hard pounding brought me out of my slumber. A knocking from the other room.
The door.
Someone was at the door.
My whole body tensed up and my breaths came quick.
I could feel it. Even before I stood up from the bed and walked, quiet as a mouse, to the window to peak outside.
It was him.
My husband, Samuel. He banged on the door once more. I covered my mouth to limit the sounds of my heaving breath as I entered the familiar state of panic.
I heard Graham open the door and he greeted Samuel with kindness.
“May I help you?” Graham asked him.
“Yeah, have you seen this woman?” Samuel asked with his trademark growl.
I looked between the deep black curtains. Samuel held up a photo of me. It was from four years ago. Our wedding day. Had it been that long since we made a memory worthy enough to take a photograph of?
“She’s pretty,” Graham replied with objectivity.
“Yeah, she’s pretty. And she’s my wife. Have you seen her?” Samuel asked again.
“No, sir. I can’t say I have,” Graham said.
“Are you sure? I’ve been searching these woods for days and you’re the only house for miles.”
“I don’t understand your point, sir.”
Samuel took a step forward between the door frame and looked around Graham at the room. His eyes scanned everything before taking a few steps back again. “She hasn’t come by here?" he asked.
“No, sir. If she traveled past, she did so without speaking with me,” Graham said. "Is there something wrong with her? Is she dangerous?”
My breaths came fast and I feared I could easily be heard. But to my relief, Samuel stuffed the photo back into his breast pocket and dismissed himself from the porch. “Thank you for your time,” he spat as he turned back to his truck.
I stared out the window and watched until he was out of sight. Graham must have done the same, as he did not come to check on me until then.
He saw my breathing and instantly held me, his arms wrapping around me from behind in a kind embrace.
“Thank you,” I said once I regained my breathing. But he did not stop holding me until minutes after.
Graham walked with me into the main room and I sat down on the soft sofa. I laid back and stared at the ceiling while I listened to Graham wander around the cabin. After a few minutes, he came back in.
“Here,” he said.
I lifted my head up and felt him place an object in my lap. I picked it up. It was the silk nightgown I ran away in, folded and clean.
“Some of the stains were hard to get out,” Graham said. "But I think I got it back to normal.”
I let the silk slide through my fingers. “Graham,” I said. "Thank you for your trouble.” I stood up from the couch and walked over to the rumbling fireplace. Without a second thought, I tossed the thing into the fire and watched as the flames devoured it.
That night, I could not find sleep. My heart pounded too heavily and I could find no comfort lying alone in the bed.
About a quarter past one in the morning, I entered the main room to look for Graham. He was lying on the couch, a book in his hands. The dim light of a nearby lamp illuminated the pages for him.
He sat up as I entered and dog-eared his page down. “Everything all right?” he asked.
“Would you lie with me?” I asked.
There was a brief look of confusion, followed shortly by one of understanding. “Yes,” he said with a nod. He stood up from the couch and followed me into the bedroom.
I opened the covers and hopped back into the bed. He climbed in next to me and allowed me my space until I lied on my side and wrapped my fingers about his hand. I pulled it around me and relaxed into his body, succumbing to his warmth and comfort. He did not move for the first few minutes, his muscles tense, undoubtedly unsure of what to make of the situation. I will admit, the whole thing made me uneasy as well. After all, I was still a married woman. But I was trying to consider my current needs.
After a few minutes, our bodies relaxed into each other. Graham pulled the blanket tighter around us. The fleece locked in the heat from our bodies and created the perfect cocoon of comfort for us. Sleep came for us both fast and we drifted off together, listening to the gentle thumping of each others hearts.
I awoke the next morning, my face buried in his chest. He still had an arm around wrapped around my shoulders. I felt so protected and safe, I went back to sleep for another hour or so until I sensed him stir.
We got out of bed and I took a shower while he fixed breakfast. Toast and eggs. The most splendid scrambled eggs I’d ever tasted. Afterward, I walked to his bookshelf and studied his titles.
“You like horror,” I said in observation.
“Nothing better,” he said.
“Don’t you ever get creeped out living out in the middle of the woods with no one around?”
“Not really. But I’d be lying if I said it never happened,” he said with a smile.
My eyes drifted above the fireplace. A rifle was mounted above it like a silent guardian. “Is it loaded?”
“Yes.”
“Would you teach me how to use it?”
The afternoon sun rose high in the sky. Spring was still a few weeks off, but the sun had managed to melt the ice which clung to the ends of tree branches. Graham lent me some of his clothing to keep warm in the snow. I wore a pair of his slacks, which I had to secure to my smaller frame with a belt, and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. With a thick winter coat on top of it all, I could hardly move, but I kept very warm.
We strapped on boots and went outside for a walk. Graham held the rifle, hung loosely from one shoulder, and a sack of empty bottles and cans. I admired the area and found myself feeling envious of his home. I’d lived at the edge of this forest with Samuel for the last few years. I had no idea anyone was living here.
“Why do you live out here?” I asked him as we broke the tree line. A field spread out before us where the snow sat mostly undisturbed in a perfect blanket.
“Why?” he repeated my question.
“Yeah, what brought you out here?” His silent made me wonder if I had overstepped with the questions. "You know, nevermind,” I said. “It’s not my business.”
“No, no. It’s fine,” Graham said as he laid the bag of rubbish down near a fallen tree. We made it to the end of the field and he made a hesitant noise before continuing. “I like the quiet.”
His answer was brief, almost rehearsed. But I decided not to push him on the subject and quickly switched to the task at hand. I reached into the bag and withdrew two cans and a bottle. We lined all the bag’s contents evenly on the fallen tree.
“Target practice then?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said with a quick nod.
“I always wanted to try this.”
“It’s actually really simple,” Graham said as he walked away from the log.
I followed him. “Just point and pull, right?”
“For the most part. But it’s also aiming and keeping steady. There’s a science to it.”
He held up the rifle and loaded the barrel with a few rounds from his pocket. I watched him shoot the first few shots and studied how he held his arms and where he was positioned. He hit the targets each time with little trouble, then took a step back.
“Now you try,” he said. He held the gun out to me, barrel pointed down.
I reached out and took hold of the stock with both hands. I still had two broken fingers and taking a firm grip was difficult. He maneuvered me, placing his hands on my shoulders and standing behind me.
“Stand like this. Feet apart. The butt of the barrel goes into your shoulder, like this…” His arms wrapped around and he molded my body as if he were a sculptor. I did everything he asked, willing and eager to learn.
With my arms in his hands, we raised the rifle together and pointed it at the targets. I felt his breath against my cheek. The sensation sent chills through my body. My veins vibrated with life and I felt a closeness to him that I hadn’t felt in quite some time. With anyone.
Add the power I felt while holding that rifle and one could imagine the adrenaline rush I was experiencing.
My finger twitched on the trigger. “Just point and pull,” I said.
“Point and pull,” he repeated with a whisper.
I pulled the trigger and the rifle’s kick sent a shock wave through my arm. From the depth of my stomach, I expelled a laugh that I’d never felt before. I smiled so wide it hurt my cold lips.
“That felt good,” I said.
“Well, imagine how it’ll feel when you actually hit something,” Graham said while reloading.
“Very funny,” I said. In all the intensity of firing the gun, I had forgotten to aim. This time when I raised the gun, I focused hard on the targets. It almost made me dizzy trying to keep the rifle steady. I took a deep breath and my nerves calmed like magic.
After a few seconds, I pulled the trigger again. A bottle shattered and my heart leapt into my throat.
“I did it!” I screamed and the gun slipped from my hands to the ground. "Holy hell, Graham! I did it!”
Graham smiled widely while I jumped up and down with excitement. I threw my arms in the air and shouted to the sky. I turned to him and tossed my arms around his neck. He returned my embrace and laughed with me.
When we pulled away, he leaned back into me and our lips met in a kiss.
My entire body tensed. His passion flowed through me, igniting my own. But just as fast as the fires ignited, he turned cold and took a wide stride backwards.
“That was wrong, I’m sorry,” he said. He bent down to grab the gun and would not look at me. “I’ll walk you back to the cabin." He walked away, leaving me to gather the remaining cans and bottles. I did so and then quickly caught up with him at the outer tree line.
We walked back to the cabin in silence. Then had dinner in silence. I could not bare the awkwardness and finally dismissed myself to bed.
But I once again could not find sleep. I stared at the ceiling, constantly seeing Samuel’s face in the shadows. After many hours of more silence, I heard Graham stir behind the door.
The door knob turned and he entered the room quietly. “Did I wake you?”
“No,” I said.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I did not want him to leave. If I said yes, he most surely
would have. “No,” I said.
He took a few more steps into the room and closed the door behind him.
Without a word, he came across the dark room and I opened the sheets to him. He laid next to me and took my hand while I turned to face him. A sliver of moonlight hit his face and I stared deep into his eyes. The feeling of eternal safety calmed me once more.
I knew his kiss had scared him away. But I couldn’t have that. I reached out to him under the covers and placed a hand on his hip. My head was swimming and I took a deep breath to keep from getting dizzy. My nostrils filled with his scent. Chemistry ran its course and the dull throbbing inside me made itself known. Graham's hand moved under the sheets and he placed it on my thigh. Neither of us knew where this would go, but we both knew what we wanted.
Together, we leaned closer. After hours of staring at the ceiling, imagining this moment, we kissed again.
It lasted seconds, then Graham pulled away for a moment. He looked at me with those eyes, those beautiful eyes, as if to ask if this was okay.
I bridged the gap he made between us and kissed him again.
There was no more hesitation from Graham. His hands explored my arms and abdomen with zeal. I wondered to myself how long it had been for him. He was definitely experienced. I felt his confidence as he shifted his weight, laying me on my back. His fingers traced down my arms, tickling my skin and bringing out my goosebumps. Our fingers entwined. I felt his longing for me and I decided in that moment that I would let him have me. All of me.
I pulled him closer until he was on top of me. Our lips couldn’t pull away for a second. His hardness rested against me. I longed to feel more of him and spread my legs wide to him.
His hands traveled downward and eased their way under my button down shirt. He shifted his kisses farther south, focusing on my neck. My entire body shook. I felt his passions and held him closer with my fingers buried in his hair.
With one hand, he started from the top and undid the first button of the shirt. He traveled down nice and slow, kissing my skin with each new reveal. I moaned for him to keep going, careful not to squeeze his hair too tightly. My belly quivered as his lips grazed me. Desire rose even stronger from within me. I had to have him.