by Mia Sheridan
She nodded her head. "I know, I know," she whispered. It was as if Eden heard my internal thoughts and was answering both concerns. As if she still knew my heart well enough and forgave me for the ways I'd failed her. My morning glory. Once I'd rolled the condom on, she pulled me down to her again and kissed me deeply. When I plunged inside of her, she broke from my mouth and tipped her head back, gasping out. Oh God, oh God. The feeling was exquisite, blindingly beautiful. She was exquisite. My vision grew blurry, stars burst before my eyes. I grunted and began to move, the pleasure so intense, goosebumps broke out on my entire body.
"Eden, Eden, I was dead without you. Oh God, I've been walking around like a ghost—half in this world, and half in the other. Eden . . ." I moaned out the words, all of them flowing together so that I wasn't even completely sure if I'd said them out loud or if they'd just flown through my own mind in a burst of firing synapses.
Eden pulled me closer, clenching her legs around me tighter and moaned out, "Yes, yes." I didn't know if she was answering me or just moaning out her pleasure. I licked up the side of her neck, the sweet and salty taste of her skin exploding on my tongue. I wanted to devour her. I groaned and pumped inside her harder and faster, our skin slapping together and her back making loud contact with the wood beneath her. She gripped handfuls of my hair, pulling roughly as she gasped out.
And then we were nothing but a tangled, gasping, moaning blur of skin and heat and mouths and thrusting pleasure. Everything about it was surreal. Somewhere far off in the distance, my brain registered the strange harshness of how we were going about this, but it felt so necessary to my existence that I didn't investigate the thought. I couldn't investigate the thought. I had my girl in my arms. Nothing else mattered. I just let the relief wash over me, our joining bringing a calm I needed so desperately I was animalistic in my pursuit of it.
I felt Eden tense under me as she arched her head back and cried out her climax. Her hands came to my back and she scraped her fingernails down my skin so hard, I was sure she had drawn blood. For some reason it inflamed me even further and I swelled inside her. Her breathy sounds of dwindling pleasure brought on my own and bliss swirled in my abdomen, moving downward until I tensed and jerked inside her, groaning into the sweetness of her throat.
We both lay there for several long minutes, our breathing slowing, our heartbeats taking up an even, steady rhythm. I leaned up and looked down into her face. Her expression was gentle, but still sad. I smoothed the hair away from her face and leaned forward and kissed her again softly. I slid out of her and rolled over onto my back, bringing her with me.
I took a deep breath. Again, we lay there together for several minutes, my hands running up and down her arms as she held on to me tightly. When I registered I was still wearing a condom, I said softly, "Let me get rid of this real quick." I nodded my head downward and she sat up.
After I'd cleaned myself up and wrapped a towel around my waist, I stood against the bathroom wall, just trying to get control of my racing heart, massaging my chest as if something inside had broken. Or perhaps was piecing itself back together.
When I came back from the bathroom, Eden had pulled her clothes back on and was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows staring out at the night. I stopped and just stood there for a minute watching her, bathed in moonlight and city lights, my heart squeezing in my chest.
"It's how I've always loved you best," I said.
She turned, cocking her head to the side in question.
"Under moonlight," I said, walking toward her.
She smiled softly.
"For a minute, standing there, I thought you were a vision and I had made this all up in my mind. Will I ever stop thinking that?"
She turned toward me and shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know how this works. I never imagined—"
"Didn't you ever think I might be alive? Even for a minute?"
She shook her head. "I saw the wreckage, Calder. I watched it all come crashing in. I saw the bodies, the water still covering it all. I . . ." She took in a big, shaky breath. "That was the moment I died inside." Her eyes widened in horror as if she was picturing it, feeling the emotions of that moment again. Instinct made me reach out to her and grab her hands. "There was no way . . ." She choked out a small sob. "I left you there," she whispered, misery etched into her beautiful features. "Oh God, Calder," she brought her hand to her mouth and then dropped it, "I left you there." She shook her head back and forth as if in denial. "I'll never, ever forgive myself. As long as I live, I'll never—"
I pulled her toward me and held her against my chest. "Shh," I said, rubbing my hand over her hair. "There was no way you could have known. I saw the wreckage on the news. I wouldn't have had any hope either. I promise you, I don't blame you for assuming no one could have survived that." She nodded her head, but still looked miserable when she pulled away. "Let's go sit," I said, leading her toward the wall to the right of the windows. "I'm sorry I don't have any furniture."
She sat down on the floor, leaning back against the wall. I dropped the towel and pulled on my discarded jeans and went and sat down next to her, pulling her against me. When my back hit the wall, I could feel the sting of the wounds she had caused with her fingernails. I wanted to sigh out with the somehow wonderful feel of the pain, proof she existed. I realized in that moment that it had been the same with the emotional pain, too. All these years, something in me had grasped onto it, not ever wanting to let it go. Truthfully, a big part of me had wanted to dive into the anguish and drown in it. I had wanted it to torture me, bury me alive. A part of me loved it, because it was all I had of her.
She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned in to my body. I took a minute to let my soul rejoice, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair.
"Xander told me how you got out," she said in a whisper.
I nodded, pulling her closer, allowing myself to remember. "When I was dragged to that cell, I was mostly unconscious. I . . . well, you saw the state I was in. I'd been shot, too. I didn't even realize it until I tried to stand." She looked up at me sadly, but didn't say anything. After a second, she laid her head back down on my shoulder. "I lost a lot of blood, but I only have a scar to show for it now." I sighed out, going silent for a minute. Eden waited.
"I thought I was going to die. I figured it was a given. And I almost felt a certain . . . acceptance. I came to here and there and I heard the screams. I just kept thinking that you were out there somewhere among them, and it tore my guts out, Eden. I don't even want to go back there in my mind to describe it to you."
She squeezed my waist and said very quietly. "It's okay, you don't have to. I know."
I nodded, feeling the sadness settle around me. "I'm so sorry. What you went through. And I wasn't there."
She looked up at me again and put her fingers to my lips. "There was literally not one more thing you could have done. You fought with all your might, everything you had in you. You don't think I know that?"
"And it wasn't enough!" I choked out.
She let go of my waist and turned toward me and put her forehead to mine and we just breathed together for a minute. "It was enough. We're both here. Do you see that now? It was enough. Whatever we did, it ended up being enough. We've already forgiven each other. Maybe we can manage to forgive ourselves now, too."
Tears were running down Eden's face again and she swiped at them. "Hector put us both in the only two places in that hellhole where there was enough air to survive. The gods forgot to mention that little tidbit of information to him." She let out a very small, humorless laugh. I looked up at her and then laughed a small laugh, too.
We were both silent for a minute. "The cave in," she finally said. "Were you conscious then?"
"No. After the screaming, I don't remember anything until I heard Xander's voice above me. He says I was banging something and that's how he knew where to look for me in the debris, but I don't remember that. The next thing I knew, I
was waking up at a friend of Kristi's." He grimaced. "I didn't even want to be alive. I was so damned pissed I was alive. I think I still was, until about two hours ago."
Eden sighed, shaking her head and bringing her hand to my cheek again for a second before bringing it away. "I know about that, too," she whispered.
We were both silent, just staring into each other's eyes for a few moments. "Tell me the rest," she finally said.
"Kristi's former roommate was a medical student. She told him a story about me being in a gang. Anyway," I sighed, running my hand through my hair, "he fixed me up the best he could and a week later, Xander and I got on a bus and came here."
A look of grief passed over Eden's features and she shook her head slowly. "Three years and we've been in the same city all along."
I felt the same grief and regret fill my chest. "Yeah," was all I could manage to croak out.
We were both quiet for a minute. "Eden . . ." I looked into her eyes. "You know it was my water system that caused the flood, right?" I already figured she must. The re-enactment of what the police thought happened that day had been on the news over and over again. Of course, they weren't there. We were. And only I knew that they had gotten a few things wrong.
Eden's expression gentled. "It was Hector who caused the flood. He just happened to use your water system to . . . deliver the water from the rising river right over the cellar so that when the rain came . . ." She trailed off, not finishing that thought.
I put my head down and massaged the back of my neck. "I built that system." I looked up at her. "And Eden, Hector didn't rig it. I'm the one who kicked it over. It wasn't Hector, it was me. I kicked it over in a fit of rage."
Eden blinked at me. "Oh, Calder," she whispered.
"See, it was my fault. If I hadn't done that, all those people—"
"Stop," she said, her voice rising. "You didn't do that on purpose, you had no way of knowing what would happen. That is not your burden to bear." She brought her fingers to my chin and tipped my face up so that I was looking straight into her face again. "That system was your longing for more, Calder. That system was beautiful, despite what happened. I'll never believe anything different."
Guilt and love washed through me simultaneously—guilt for my part in the tragedy that day, and love for who she was and what was shining out of her eyes. "Still my morning glory," I murmured.
Her eyes moved over my face, filled with tenderness. After a short pause, she continued, "And the thing that wasn't on the news? The thing that only I know is that Hector swallowed the key to the cellar. He swallowed it. He didn't just lock the door, he swallowed the key." She let out a small, disgusted laugh and then her face went very serious. "He was never going to let those people out, whether they wanted out or not. And Calder, most of them, even at the end, they didn't. They believed. That's no fault of yours."
I blinked at Eden. I didn't know what to feel about that piece of information, that Hector had swallowed the key. On one hand, it filled me with horror, and on the other hand, it brought me a small measure of peace about my own part in the tragedy. Xander had told me again and again that it wasn't my fault, but seeing the same thing shining out of Eden's expression, fierce and honest, brought me a peace I'd been longing for. My brave, sweet morning glory.
"Tell me how you got out," I finally said.
Eden sighed and looked out the windows, and an expression that I had trouble reading came over her face. "Thinking back, it doesn't seem real," she said. And then she told me everything that she'd gone through that night, floating in the pitch blackness as the screams and calls for help ceased in gurgles and death on the other side of the wall right next to her. My heart bled and a lump rose up in my throat so large I thought it might choke me. I felt horrified, sick—my gut was wrenched—and yet, beyond that was pride. I was so proud of her. And not only had she survived, but she had done so using the knowledge I gave her. Somehow, a part of me had been there in that room with her. The thought soothed me, bringing me some small measure of peace.
She told me how she'd come here, about Felix and Marissa, about teaching piano, finding out about her mom, going to her door, and I listened to it all, incredulous and in awe of her strength, in awe of her resilience. Yet, she looked so sad. I could see that she'd still felt alone.
As she finished her story, she tilted her head and studied me for a minute. I must have looked shell-shocked.
"I thought you were strong," I said. "But I didn't know the half of it."
She smiled and then looked around my apartment. "Xander said you two have been doing construction work. Is that where you learned to do what you've done around here?" She waved her arm, indicating the room around us.
I cleared my throat, taking note that she was changing the subject. Maybe we both needed it. It was a lot to process. It might take a lifetime to process. "Yeah. I do more roofing now actually."
A worried expression crossed her face. "Yeah, Xander mentioned that, too." She paused for a minute. "But now your art—"
"I haven't made a dime off my art yet."
"But you will," she said, her voice full of conviction.
We stared at each other again for a minute.
My cell phone, sitting on the floor next to us buzzed and lit up and I glanced at it and saw Madison's name come up and the message: I'm worried. Come home, on the screen. I reached over quickly and turned it off, but when I looked back at Eden, her eyes were on the phone and I could tell she had seen it. Her eyes moved slowly to mine, full of hurt and I wanted to throw the damn phone through one of my windows.
"Eden . . ."
"Home? You've been living with her?" she asked quietly.
I shook my head. "No. I mean," I shook my head again, "shit. I was staying with her while I was finishing up this place—just temporarily. As you can see," I waved my hand around the dim apartment, "it's not exactly habitable."
Eden bit her lip, her eyes large pools of sorrow. "Do you love her?" she asked so quietly I almost couldn't make out her words.
"No. I don't. I . . ." Gods, God, this was awful, horrible in every way possible. I wanted to scream and smash something. I took a deep breath. "I love you. I'll never love anyone except you."
"But you're with her," she said. It wasn't a question, just a statement, and she said it matter-of-factly. She looked behind me for a minute and then back at my face. "You thought I was dead, Calder. I understand."
"No! I don't want you to understand. It's not understandable. I don't even understand it."
Eden sighed and started to stand up, stretching her legs once she did. I leapt up, too. Eden came toward me and put her hand on my cheek. "We have so much more to talk about." She smiled sadly. "We could talk for days and still not have told each other every bit of what we've gone through." She chewed on her lip for a minute. "But, Calder, right now, we both need to get some sleep." She walked over to her purse and took a phone out and texted someone, the girl who'd been with her at the gallery, I assumed.
"Sleep here," I blurted out, moving toward her and gripping her arms as she turned around. There was no way I could watch her walk out my door. The thought of it alone filled me with terror, just as it had earlier at the gallery. "Stay with me. Don't leave."
She shook her head, looking around. "I'm not leaving you. I'm just not going to sneak around with you. You have a life." She bit her lip, looking down. "I don't blame you for that. But—"
"I know," I said, feeling as if my heart was breaking open in my chest. "We deserve more than that."
"Yes," she said.
My phone buzzed again and I closed my eyes tightly and then opened them. Eden glanced at the phone and then back at me. "You need to go home, too," she said quietly. Her voice had a hitch at the word home and it felt like a splinter to my heart.
"I want you, Eden. I've never wanted anyone except for you," I said quietly. "I'm so damn sorry for this situation."
Eden took a deep breath and gave me a small, sad smile. "My mom i
s throwing some small garden party tomorrow for me." She shook her head. "Just some really close friends who can be discreet about me returning. Anyway, I should be done with that at six o'clock or so. Maybe we can get together?" she asked, running her tongue over her bottom lip.
"Yeah, of course," I said, "I mean, anything, just tell me. Tell me what to do here," I said, noting the desperation in my own voice. "I don't know what to do here."
She studied me for a minute and then she nodded. "I'll call you when it's over."
"Okay." My phone buzzed again and I almost went over to it and smashed it beneath my foot.
Eden must have seen the anger on my face because she said softly, "She's innocent in this situation, too." I stared at her. Still my compassionate girl.
I let out a harsh breath and ran my hand through my hair and said, "Yeah."
Eden leaned forward and kissed me softly and it was everything I could do not to grab her by her shoulders and force her to stay in my apartment. I felt desperate and miserable and joyful all at the same time.
After a few minutes, Eden's phone beeped and she looked down at it. "That's Molly," she said. All I could do was nod. She smiled one more small smile at me and then we moved together, wrapping our arms around each other and just standing that way for what seemed like a long time, but not nearly long enough. When she finally pulled away, she gave me one last sad smile and then the door clicked behind her.
I walked back through my apartment, finally sinking down to the floor against the same wall we'd sat against together. I spread my legs out straight and just breathed. I couldn't think of much else to do.
After a while I reached for my phone and texted Madison, telling her I was staying at my apartment. Then I turned it off. I sat back, pressing my wounded back against the wall, closing my eyes in relief at the small flash of pain. That's where I finally fell asleep close to dawn.