A heavy sigh leaves my chest before I make my confession.
“I don’t want a relationship from you,” I admit. “I’m not looking for pretty words and romantic gestures. But I’m not just a warm body for you to stick your cock in, either.” My words taste like venom, not because they’re spoken with the intention to hurt, but because they’re derived from a deep place of insecurity.
“I deserve a little more respect than cold shoulders and the expectation we’re going to fuck whenever you want.”
The pain I’ve been fighting so hard to bury must be detectable in my voice because Jason releases my arm and steps back. The space between us finally allows me room to breathe, to think. The fog his closeness creates dissipates.
Brushing past me, Jason retrieves my coat from the hook by the barn door and hands it to me. The gesture is rather gentle compared to his usualgruffness. But those pleading eyes beg me to comply with his request. So I slip the coat on and zip it up while Jason saddles Bessie and his intention becomes clear.
In a matter of minutes, Bessie is saddled and I’m nestled between Jason’s strong thighs atop the horse, my back pressed to his chest so our body heat merges into one. Although he hasn’t said where we’re going, I have a pretty good idea.
Not long after leaving the barn, we pass beneath the towering pines that border the frozen pond Jason brought me to weeks ago.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize how special this place is to him. I told him I don’t need romantic gestures because this isn’t anything serious. But maybe this is a gesture of friendship instead. Cooperation. Comradery.
Maybe bringing me somewhere he holds so sacred is his way of telling me he accepts and respects me.
Jason dismounts Bessie first then guides me off with hands around my ribcage, lowering me to the ground before him. A look passes between us for half a heartbeat before I walk toward the crystallized frozen edge of the pond.
“I know I already apologized,” I speak up, wrapping my arms around myself. “But I really am sorry, Jason. I was weak and too easily influenced by others. I’ve felt guilty for the part I played in prom night ever since. And I’ve been paying for it at the hands of karma everyday.”
He doesn’t say anything, I didn’t expect him to. I don’t even look back. I just start walking toward the center of the pond. One foot at a time. The solid ice beneath my feet crunches with the fresh snow beneath each foot step. Since the snow isn’t falling right now, visibility is clear. Everything is white. The clouds in the sky, the tree tops, the hardened ice over the water’s surface.
I finally turn around to see Jason standing beside Bessie watching me closely. He looks stuck, unsure…I don’t know. I can’t really place what’s on his face. As much as he can express with just his body language, he can also mask it.
We lock eyes for a long moment before I turn and walk toward the otherside of the pond. I don’t know what I’m walking toward, but it feels good to get out of the cabin for a minute and explore somewhere unknown.
A sharp crack is the only warning I have before the ice at the center of the pond shatters beneath my weight and I plummet into the freezing water.
The rush of water in my ears sounds like voices, whispers, calling my name in panic.
“Mara!”
Chapter Eighteen
Jason-Present
Exhale-Taylor Swift Ft. Bon Iver
I’ve only experienced panic like this one other time in my life. Heart-stopping. Breath-hitching. Paralyzing fear where your brain can’t comprehend what it just saw, but your body jumps into action without a second thought.
I spoke.I spoke!
Without thinking, my mouth moved and a garbled version of her name came booming out. I wasn’t thinking. I was just acting. And apparently my panic seeing her fall through the ice overpowered my fear of talking.
I burst into action bolting for the center of the lake where I saw Mara sink into the frozen water without caring if the ice might break under my own weight. As soon as I reached the gaping hole in the ice, I slide to my knees and rip off my coat. Trying to anchor myself in place so I can take stock of my surroundings. I have to act quickly but jumping into action without a plan could be just as catastrophic.
Testing the stability of the ice, I could get within eight inches of the hole. The water is a dark abyss beneath the ice. I can’t see much. But I have to do something so I lay flat against the ice and plunge my arm into the ice-cold water that makes just my arm feel numb. I can’t imagine how Mara must be feeling right now.
Swishing my hand around in the water, little by little, I pray I don’t haveto dive in after her.
But I would. I don’t know how I know this but when the thought crosses my mind I don’t even hesitate to accept that fate. I’ll submit myself to the same torture if it means I can save her.
By some miracle, my hand brushes something soft when I’m nearly shoulder deep. So I lower myself even lower at the risk of the ice giving out and feel soft fabric, tendrils of wet hair, and a hard, round shape. A shoulder!
I grab the fabric in my firm grip and start to lift until a mop of wet blonde hair breaches the surface of the icy water. Using both hands now, I twist Mara’s body so her coat acts as a barrier between her body and the jagged edges of the shattered ice.
She’s weighed down by the drenched clothes that are more like a sponge than insulation. But I manage to get her on the ice. Unconscious, her lips are already turning a bit blue and her skin is so, so pale. She looks like a fucking corpse. But upon checking her pulse, I’m reassured she’s alive.
