“I…I didn’t just kill Peter. I killed—” I swallowed back the nausea, my heart racing in my chest.
Fear. Fear of judgement. Fear of someone else confirming my darkest thoughts. My breath caught in my lungs, and I tried to remove my hand from Enoch’s, desperation clawing up my throat.
Leave. Hide. Cut. Bleed. Purge. Punish.
Enoch squeezed my hand tighter, refusing to let go.
“Breathe, baby. You’re safe.”
My eyes catalogued the fastest exit, scanning the trail and the steep terrain around us. But short of running back down the trail and all the way back to my apartment I was stuck here. Trapped with these feelings. Trapped with my poisonous secret that was slowly killing me.
The urge to vomit swelled and I wanted it to stop. Everything. The world. The acidic sickness coursing through my veins. My fucking heartbeat.
Enoch released a deep breath and my eyes found his.
Brown. Patient. Unrelenting.
They stared into mine with such possession that I couldn’t look away.
The poison must have gone to my brain because I couldn’t fight it anymore.
“I killed them. He said it was a generational curse, but it wasn’t. It was me,” I confessed, lips tingling from lack of oxygen.“I prayed so hard. I prayed and I prayed—”
“Breathe.”
My eyes went wide, imploring. “Do you hear me? Ikilledthem. I begged God to prevent me from getting pregnant and I thought He hadn’t heard my prayers, but then I miscarried and I—”
“I hear you. Now, breathe.” Enoch’s hands captured my face. “Breathe, baby.”
My body listened of its own accord. I shuddered as I drew in a breath and released it.He took an exaggerated deep breath with me, his eyes never leaving mine.
Still patient. Still possessive.
“I was relieved. Relieved that they weren’t going to suffer with me. What kind of person does that make me? I-I’m disgusting and I hate myself for it. I hate myself. I hate me.”
“Breathe.”
My head was spinning, my voice a keening wobble as the words flew from my mouth.
“I hate me, Enoch. I hate me. Seven times.Seventimes. Ihateme.”
“Breathe. Just breathe.”
I gulped down another bubble of air, trying to understand why he wasn’t reacting. Why he was still touching me. Why he wasn’t revolted, repulsed.
My stomach flipped and I abruptly pulled away from Enoch’s hold, bending over as I expelled everything from my stomach. Gentle hands held my braid behind my back, and my body shook with an involuntary tremor.
The poison had run its course. For now.
I spat, roughly wiping my mouth with my sleeve before taking a shaky inhale.
Enoch’s hand left my hair and a moment later my water bottle was in my periphery. I took it, swishing my mouth with the cold water before spitting it out on into the grass. I stood up, stepping away from the vomit and Enoch followed, his eyes watching, assessing.
I gingerly swallowed a sip of water, staring at the root jutting out of the ground in front of me.
“You didn’t kill them.”
My eyes found his with stupor.
