Not without him.
But there’s a force within me, the vicious waters of death slowly rising.
What did I miss?
What did I have so wrong?
What was I blinded to?
Cut off from seeing?
Why did he leave me?
Was he always coming back for me?
My throat constricts as I swallow the internal barbs of my labored pain. A tear rolls down my cheek, though Harlen quickly smooths it out across my cheekbone and into my hairline.
I think he knows what I need because he holds me that much tighter, his lips hovering closer. “Ask me, Cherry. I need you to ask me.”
“Killing myself by leaving you was never the end game.”
I have two questions, but right now, as I’m curled around the man I want to trust, I ask the one that I think holds the most hope, the very one I clung onto tightly in the sallow concrete jungle of my torture. The one I prayed for, the one I fucking begged for when my face was pushed into the rough terrain of my hell, the very one that saw me through the planes of darkness.
The only hope that kept mealive.
“Were you always coming back for me?” My words are breathless, accompanied by a family of streaming tears and the tremble of every bone in my body.
I feel vulnerable, exposed, ripped raw…naked.
And when Harlen inhales sharply, the lines in his face contorting, I find myself retreating, pulling backward and trying to shove him away at the chest, doing my best to find my way to my feet.
I’m panicking.
Oh god, this hurts. I shouldn’t have asked. I think I’m going to be sick.
His muscled arms are like a vise, though, his hand at my throat contracting around me. He only holds me tighter as I struggle to find my way out of his arms.
With hips pinning me to the wall, I suck in a sharp breath as I feel the friction between my legs.
My toes curl, and even though I’m trying to back away from him with my hands, my legs have a mind of their own. I stay clasped around his waist, my lower half buried against him.
Harlen’s thumb presses beneath my chin, the back of my skull connecting with the mirror. He lifts his gaze to mine.
“Harlen, I need the truth,” I whisper, “Please… Please, just give me that.”
He licks his lips, eyes locking onto mine. “I knew I was coming back for you before I had even fucking left.” His words are spoken quietly, a drifting breath over my lips, and I whimper, tears flooding my eyes. Before I can swallow, he continues, “Leaving you the first time will always be my greatest mistake.” He grabs both of my cheeks, his thumbs drifting over my aching cheekbones, his forehead pressing deep into mine as I sob against the planes of his face. “Thank you for holding on for me–” he starts to say, but he’s cut off when his voice cracks, emotion riddling its talons through his throat. I shiver, bonedeep and violent, as I watch him fight the fists of his buried pain. “When dying promised you endless peace,” he finishes.
His eyes drop to my lips, and one painful tear slips over his top lip that he catches with his tongue.
Words feel impossible, yet I find them, because they’re all I have. “Hope had always fucked me. It gave me reasons not to trust, to hide myself, and keep my feelings locked away. Hope was the devil, but Harlen–” When I say his name, Harlen lifts his glassy, bloodshot eyes back to mine and blinks around long, wet eyelashes. And as I look into his glacial pools, I see one thing, so vibrant and loud.
It’s hope.
And it sends goosebumps pearling over my skin.
I continue before I find a way to swallow my words. “Hope that I would see you again,hope for us, was the only force that kept me alive.”
Vulnerability never came easy, but for me, it did. I felt everything, in ways that could kill me, yet with Harlen, it was worth it.
