I inhaled deeply as we stood like that for several seconds. I forgot about the piercing chill causing my whole body to tremble. I ached to see his longing again, if only for a moment, before he closed the gap between us.
Erich leaned forward, and for a brief second, I thought maybe he’d finally kiss me. I held my breath as his hand cameup to my waist, pulling my shirt down to cover the skin. “You’re stuck with me,” he murmured in my ear as the pitter-patter in my chest intensified.
His face was inches away from mine. I wanted to read his mind. I wanted him to pick me back up. I wanted to be shown what that meant, but I was left to fixate on his shaded eyes and decipher it myself.
“Let’s get you inside.” He finally broke the moment, and his hands came back to my waist before ushering me up the stairs, leaving the tension in my mind to turn to disappointment.
Chapter 26 – May 29, 1994 – Camille
Erich was off. Ever since the day we took a cold swim in the river. He was avoiding me, and I was replaying every interaction since that day to try to figure out why.
The look he gave me… I thought it was longing. I thought he was holding back on something, and it stirred excitement.
I wasn’t irritated so much as I was concerned he wasn’t as happy there as I was. I don’t think his goal was to step away from the dive bar hustles like mine. In fact, I don’t think he ever planned to have me around as long as I had been. He cared for me, yes, but I had no idea what he was thinking because he would never tell me… Maybe I had to accept I wasn’t part of the ending he had planned. Maybe he was getting restless.
Maybe Mystique was wrong when she said I was what he needed. Maybe I’d never break through.
I remembered our time in New York after thinking of Mystique’s final words to me. Olivia warned me he’d drop off,disappear, and leave me too. How could I have assumed I was immune to his actions? They were clearly described to me by someone who knew him well.
I had a dreadfully long, boring day of cleaning and staring at the river and rain through the window of the cabin. I read for a bit. I tried to write in my notebook. I went as far as to write a grocery list. But I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe my fairytale dream was coming to a drawn-out end.
Was he getting sick of me? Was he getting bored with our cabin? Did he plan on taking off?
When I couldn’t still my racing thoughts any longer, I curled up in bed wearing an ugly argyle sweater from Erich’s side of the closet I’d never seen before and let the low grumbles of thunder and the intensifying pelting of rain on the roof and windows lull me to sleep.
I woke up to the creaky front door opening and Erich calling for me. The question in his voice grabbed my attention. I wondered if it worried him that I didn’t respond, but I soon pushed the thought out of my mind to remember my worry for him.
Before I could answer with where I was, the floor creaked and the bedroom door opened. He was still wearing his boots and jacket. I noticed I had let the fire go out with a shiver, glancing from the gleaming embers of the fireplace to the rain-soaked window next to it. I had been out for a few hours. It was dark outside, and I remembered that when I fell asleep, the sun was still out. I reached for the bedside lamp, pulling the cord down to illuminate the room, and got nothing.
Great, I thought.The power is out too.
“Is something wrong?” Erich shut the door behind him. He stared me down in the dark. Despite the lack of light, I could see the concern etched in his jaw. He unzipped his jacket,hanging it next to the fireplace before kneeling down to get it started again.
I watched him in silence, pulling the blanket up further over me and cocooning myself to keep warm. The moonlight outside the window caused his backside to appear illuminated. He put a log over the red-hot charcoal, letting it catch and slowly start to glow before he realized I didn’t answer his question. He got up from his knees at the fireplace and turned to me.
“I don’t remember falling asleep,” I mumbled, sitting myself up to speak.
He raised an eyebrow, sighed, and shook his head, falling backward into the wooden chair next to the fireplace. He slipped out of his boots, setting them beside the small fire he revived before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his eyes. “Power’s out all over town. I was sent home early.”
We sat in silence, me wrapped in blankets on the bed staring at the fire, him resting his chin on his hand, elbows still on his knees, staring at the wall.
It was uncomfortable. It didn’t feel normal.Hedidn’t feel normal… There was something else on his mind he couldn’t come face-to-face with. He finally got up out of the chair to dig in the dresser and grab a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, leaving the room to change in the bathroom.
I focused on the sound of him moving around the cabin. Firm footsteps on the wooden floor toward the kitchen; a pause and a creaky cabinet opening. The metallic “thunk” of an old coffee can being set on the counter. I realized the night before that he was putting cash away, but with how little I’d seen him, I hadn’t yet asked him what it was for.
Then there was the repeat of the creaky cabinet, footsteps to the bathroom, and the old wooden door screeching for its hinges to be oiled as he shut it to change.
I lay back down and snuggled deeper into the blankets. After a while, the whiny bathroom door opened again, and Erich’s footsteps sounded throughout the tiny cabin. It was louder than the nearby sparks from the fire. He eventually walked back into the room with his clean, comfortable clothes on. I watched him run a hand through his hair as he took one last glance at the fireplace. The short sleeves of his white shirt showed the taut muscles beneath.
Could he feel me watching him? Did he know I was catching on to the dread of what he could be thinking?
Satisfied with the fireplace and the invigorated embers, he came over to the other side of the bed, and I felt it move with his weight as he got on. My back was facing him. I waited for his request that I unbundle myself to share the warmth of the blankets I was hoarding. It never came.
“Are you still awake?” he finally asked.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. I didn’t dare move a muscle.
“Long day?” His attempt at small talk was agonizing. His forced communication contributed to the knot in my throat. I thought maybe my fears and anxiety were finally reaching the breaking point. Maybe I was starting to realize how hard it was to be left in the cabin alone all day. Maybe I was finally realizing I had no one while he was gone.
