It was quiet for a while.
"Christopher –"
"I need to tell you," he said in a rush of breath. Pulling my mouth shut, I started chewing on my ever so delicious lip again. Curiosity swallowed me up, wanting to know what he was going to say.
"Mia, I...I don't know where to start," he ran his hand through his hair and set his coffee on the table next to the bed. His nervousness drowned out my curiosity.
Putting my right hand on his left bicep, he froze.
"Start where you want." The words came out quieter than I'd intended, but he heard me. I started to slide my hand away, but he grabbed it and held it. I didn't pull away.
Chapter Sixteen
When her hand touched, my arm there was the instant reprieve. She began to pull the hand away, but, in that moment, I needed her touch more than anything. Holding her hand in place, I didn't release my worried breath until I was sure she wasn't going to move.
"I-I'm sorry about last night." Looking down at her hand, I mumbled. The black nail polish was starting to chip from the tips of her fingers.
"It's –"
"No, it's not okay." Still unable to look into her eyes, I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I scared you." Finally getting my balls back, I shifted my eyes to hers and grasped her hand with both of mine. "I need you to know I wasn't going to hurt you. I would never…I…" Pausing, I removed one hand to run it through my hair.
"You know I have dreams," My eyes found hers once more.
Without breaking eye contact, she gave a small nod. "Nightmares" she spoke softly.
"Yeah, nightmares," I sighed. "I know Nicholas told you about," before I could think about finishing what I was saying she grabbed my hand with both of hers, looking at me with reassurance, "About before I came to live with him."
She nodded again and started chewing on her lip again.
"Last night I had a nightmare, but this time," my chest tightened at the remembrance, "This time you were there and you were…hurt." My eyes found the bed again. I couldn't look at her, afraid of the emotion I would see in her eyes at my admittance.
When her hand squeezed mine, I reflexively raised my eyes to her. She half smiled with understanding in her eyes. I'd expected her to start pushing me away the more she learned. It didn't seem to be coming so I continued.
"I had no right to…to just barge in and…do what I did last night. I can't even tell you how sorry I am for all the hell I've put you through; the comments, the looks, the 'sick arrangement' at night." Swallowing hard, I remember the words coming from her mouth.
"My nightmares…..they….well…" Rubbing the back of my neck, I tried to relieve some of the tension building in my shoulders. "They involve 'that night,' when I lost…" My throat tightened and I could finish.
"You don't have to talk about it." Squeezing my hand, she scooted closer. Her eyes weren't just full of compassion, but pity as well. I hated the pity.
"That's where you're wrong," I snorted. "Everyone thinks I need to…and to be honest…I'm starting to agree, but –"
"Don't do it until you're ready." My eyes detoured from hers just for a moment, glancing down to her mouth. "And you definitely don't have to explain to me," she smiled easily.
"The thing is…I don't think I could…tell anyone else." My eyes dropped back to the mattress as her body tensed.
Here it comes. She's going to run, going to leave.
"Well then…I'll listen."
Jerking my head up to look back into her eyes, I didn't believe she'd really spoken. Determination set in her dark eyes. She tightened her hold on me once more. Should I have really expected any less from the person who never does what I expect her to do? I swallowed my nerves and apprehension.
"I was eleven when my…when she was…when she died."
"Your mother," she stated as fact, not question. I nodded anyhow.
"My fath-step-father…" Rage began bubbling in my chest, images flashed in my head.
"Was the cause," again a fact, not question. I nodded to confirm.
"He was angry because I wasn't his son, among other things," Inhaling deeply, I blew out the large nervous breath. "He'd known, but it all came to a head over time." Blinking back the moisture in my eyes, my next words poured from my lips. "It was meant for me."
Her small gasp almost snapped my control on my tears.
"He meant to hurt or you know, you?" This time it was a question. And as before, all I could do was nod.
"She…she protected me," the tears wouldn't be held back any longer. "She saved me." The sob ripped through my unwilling chest and throat like scissors through paper. Using both hands, I buried my face in my palms.
The images flashed behind my eyelids and his shouting at her and at me echoed in my ears. All the blood, it was everywhere. Rocking back and forth, the sobs intensified. My chest tightened as that night played out in full perspective.
It took me a moment to realize she had wrapped her arms around me. Holding my back to her chest, she rocked with me, allowing me to carry on.
Overcome by the relief her presence provided, I turned in her arms. Wrapping mine around her waist, I pulled her closer. She shifted and laid us back onto the bed. My head was against her chest, my arms around her waist, and her arms around my shoulders. When she began stroking my head, I started to calm enough to continue.
"He told me it was my fault, that I should've never happened and it was supposed to be me," squeezing her tightly, she squeezed back. Her reassurance relaxed me.
"Then he started holding her after he…" The rage start to boil again in the pit of my stomach and my jaw tightened.
"Shhh…you don't have to say anything else," her right hand stroked my hair. Her left hand lies on the side of my face. My tears dampened her palm.
"I killed him."
"I know. It's okay." She said quietly.
"I don't feel regret for…" I broke off. I'd taken a man's life. The man I'd seen as my father for years. Yet, I felt nothing but satisfaction for doing it. I was a monster.
"I'm glad I –"
"It's okay."
Anger built. Leaning on my elbow, partially hovering over her body, I looked to her face. Her eyes were full of confusion.
"How's it okay to kill someone and not care? What kind of monster does that make me?!" She flinched at my shout, but the fear quickly dissolved from her features.
With both hands on the sides of my head, she pulled me closer to her.
"You were only a boy, Chris. He took the person you loved most away from you. He betrayed you. You didn't betray him."
Dropping my forehead to her chest, I inhaled deeply. The scent of her tamed my anger.
"It was my fault. It should have been me, not…her." Tears streamed over my nose, absorbing into her t-shirt.
"Do you think she would say that?" Her hands ran rhythmically through my hair. "It shouldn't have been anyone, but that wasn't your fault."
"It's my fault he's dead." I spoke harsher than intended.
"He would've killed you. You protected yourself, which is exactly what she would have wanted."
She wasn't placating me though she barely knew me. Yet she talked as if she knew exactly what my mother would say and feel. I didn't deserve everything she'd been doing for me. Waves of emotions washed through me.
We fell silent.
I'm not sure how long we laid there in silence or when exactly I'd fallen asleep, but I woke later from a peaceful dreamless sleep. Opening my eyes, Mia slept next to me – my arms around her like she was a child's stuffed bear.
Leaning up to take in her peaceful face, her hand slid from my head. Brushing a few strands of hair from her face, I got lost in her features, again. Her lips, her skin, her neck, I ran my fingers lightly across her cheek. She was so soft. Without thinking, I skimmed my fingers over her lips.
Knock…knock…knock…
Pulling back, I quickly lie back down, closing my eyes.
"Mia we need –" Laney entered the room
, but quickly fell silent.
With the sound of soft steps, I was sure she had turned and left. Curiosity finally won. I turned my head and opened my eyes. She hadn't left. In fact, she was sauntering over with a huge smile. The moment her eyes met mine her smile morphed into a smirk.
"What?" I whispered.
"Nothing," she shrugged. Grinning mischievously, she disappeared into the closet. Reappearing a few minutes later with some clothes, she set them out.
Laney walked over to Mia's side of the bed.
"Mia!"
A loud grunting noise erupted from her. "What?" she grumbled.
"We have to get ready for dinner, remember? So you need to get up." Laney nudged her arm.
Mia groaned and started to stretch. The length of her body pressed against mine, warm and inviting. Her eyes flew open, snapped to me, and then took in our position.
"Shit, sorry," she rolled away quickly.
Fighting my groan of disappointment, I sucked on my lips to stop any verbal protests. Instead, I shrugged.
"Come on Mia, we're gonna late." Laney threw the clothes at her and walked toward the door.
Were they having dinner with someone? If so, who? My hands fisted the comforter.
"You've got about thirty minutes to get ready." Laney yelled over her shoulder and exited the room.
"Damn it! I can't believe I slept that long." Mia groaned. Once up she drug herself toward the bathroom.
The muffled sound of water spraying hit me. Quickly, I left before she came back out.
Once of the hotel room I took a deep breath. My stomach churned and the tension I was experiencing wasn't normal after having slept so well. I needed Doctor J. Something felt wrong, really wrong.
Calling him along the way, I wanted him to be ready for me. He was only a few floors down. When he answered the door, he was in a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and bare feet. This was new. Casual Doc, compared to the suits I normally saw him wear.
"Come in," he motioned for me to enter. Taking a seat in a chair, I slouched back as my leg began to bounce nervously.
"So, what can I do for you?" he eyed me closely.
"About this morning –" I ran my hand through my hair.
"Don't worry about this morning; just tell me what's going on." His eyes didn't leave me while he sat across from me.
Sighing, I leaned forward, elbows to knees.
"I had a typical dream, but this time Mia was a part of it."
"Christopher, what is a typical dream?" He leaned toward me.
"I – I…Shit!" I put my head into my hands.
"It's okay," I heard the frustration in Doctor J's voice.
"I talked to her." I mumbled without looking up.
"You told her? You opened up and told her about that night?" He didn't hide his disbelief or excitement.
"Sort of," I exhaled.
"Can you explain 'sort of' to me?" The chair creaked as he settled back into his seat.
"Nicholas had already told her what I'm sure he told you, so she already had an idea. I just included some unknowns." I heard his mouth open, but stopped him before he could speak. "I didn't talk about the whole night." I still couldn't look into his face.
"I see," he sighed. "Well it's a start, a good start."
I sighed.
"I know you hate this, but can you tell me about your emotions right now?"
"They're the same." I groaned loudly. My stomached churned, contradicting my statement.
"Christopher," he wasn't buying it.
"Christ! Look I'm not sure how I'm feeling, okay?" Slouching back in my seat, I finally looked at him.
"About…about her knowing?" I could look at him, but couldn't speak. Instead, I shook my head. "What about then?"
"I'm not sure I just have this nervous feeling." Laying my head on the back of the chair, I broke my eyes from him. "And then this tension is looming over me. I've never felt this after sleeping, really sleeping."
"When did you get nervous? After your dream, after you spoke to her, after you woke up?"
"I thought she would take off running or be terrified after we talked, but she wasn't. She never does what I think she will." The confession felt surprisingly good to verbalize.
"Okay, so what did you say when you left to come here?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"She was getting ready to go to dinner with someone when I left." I shrugged.
The intensity of his examination started to make me fidget.
"Someone?"
"Yeah, she and the rest of the girls are going out with some guy tonight." My stomach tightened again. I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat.
"Are you feeling well?"
"I'm fine."
"Uh huh," he said quietly. Then he didn't say anything else. We just sat in silence for what felt like an hour. "I want to propose something."
Lifting my head, I looked warily at him. There was something in his eyes making me cautious.
"What?" I raised one eyebrow.
"I want to try to talk about that night," his raised a finger stopped my argument before I spoke one syllable. "I want to bring Mia here with you."
"Are you fucking crazy?!"
"Christopher, you trust her, she comforts you. It seems to be the only thing that helps you deal. If she's here then maybe you can relax enough to talk about it."
"Fuck no!" Standing from the chair, I was ready to leave.
"Sit down!" The tone of his voice stopped me. I'd never heard him angry.
"Christopher, at first, we'll try with her in the same hotel room, if that doesn't work we can bring her into the same room. This way, if you feel too vulnerable or feel out of control, she can help."
"There's no way I'm using her like that. It's bad enough she already puts up with –"
"She cares about you." His words not only cut off my argument, but also made something else stir inside of me. My body collapsed back into the chair.
"What?" My voice was breathier than I would've imagined it could be.
"If she didn't care, Christopher, she wouldn't do what she's doing. You don't see that?" His questioning look made me uncomfortable.
I opened my mouth but closed it again, unsure of what to say.
"I'm going to cross a very fine line right now, but I just don't know what else to do with you." He took a deep breath. I braced myself for what he was going to say.
"Christopher you have feelings for Mia. You care for her and you care for her deeply. I won't say love, but you definitely feel something more than just security and comfort. Everything you've been doing is showing all the signs –"
"You've lost your fucking –"
"You aren't going to admit it to yourself, because that means someone else you care about can be taken away from you." He paused and took a moment before continuing. "Christopher, let's just try my idea and if it doesn't work then 'fuck it' we stay with our current method and hope you make more progress." He sat back in his chair.
I couldn't hold back my chuckle from his use of 'fuck it'. We sat staring each other down for a few minutes.
"Fine," shaking my head, I stood up. "Only if she agrees to it," I added and left the room.
Jackson, Jimmy and Elliott were sitting around the living area of the room. All their heads turned to me when I walked in.
"Well hello there," Elliott spoke first.
"Hey," Mumbling, I walked into my room.
Stripping along the way, all I wanted was the shower. It only took five minutes before someone broke into my silent solitude.
"Hey man we're going to head down to the bar for some food and beers, you coming?"
"Yeah sure, can you give me fifteen?"
"Cool."
"Hey Jackson!"
"Yeah man?"
"I'm sorry about –"
"No worries brother," and with that, he shut the bathroom door.
Stepping out of the shower, I took a long look at myself in the fogged mirror. Did she
care about me? Did I care about her? Shaking away the plaguing thoughts, I got dressed. Ten minutes later, I was slipping on my shoes and stepping out of my room.
"Let's roll! I'm fucking starving!" Elliott practically ran out our door.
Guilt reared its ugly head. I ran and caught up to Elliott at the elevator doors.
"Elliott, man, I'm sorry about –"
"Dude, shut the fuck up! I do not do Doctor Phil moments." He stuck his fist out with an expectant look. I bumped my fist to his. "See, now we're solid." He smiled widely and took heavy steps onto the elevator.
I didn't deserve their forgiveness so easily. It wasn't the first time they had to deal with my shit, and yet they stuck around.
Sitting around a table watching Elliott and Jimmy play pool, the sound of singing filtered into the bar from the lobby. We looked at each other.
"What the hell –" Elliott laughter broke off his exclamation.
Following his gaze, the girls came into the bar. It was pretty clear that they had already been drinking. Arm in arm and singing loudly, they strolled toward the bar. At least they were in key.
"Now let me get this straight,
Put the lime in the coconut, you drank them both up"
Then they burst out into laughter when they reached the bar.
Out of the corner of my eye Elliott moved. He reached them and quickly wrapped his arm around Serena. Mia walked over to the antique jukebox and turned on some music. All of them started singing and dancing to the song that came on. My thoughts reverted to Doctor J's comments about having feelings for Mia.
I mean, I don't…I mean, I guess I like her but…it's not…I was brought out of my thoughts by Jackson.
"He's such an ass." Jackson said, motioning his head to Elliott flamboyantly singing. I nodded in agreement and pulled my water glass to my mouth.
Elliott walked back over to the table, grabbing his beer and smiling from ear to ear.
"Are you seriously ditching our game?" Jimmy looked at him in disbelief.
"Dude, see that amazing hot ass chick waiting for me over there?" He paused. "Now take a look at you." He paused again. "I think you should now have formed the correct response to your absurd questioning."
"True." Jimmy nodded. "It would take her to be drunk to get with you," Jimmy laughed and plopped into the seat next to me. Jackson and I joined in the laughter.
Falling Stars Page 21