Chapter 113
Apart from the occasional wince when I press the alcohol swabs to his cuts, Nathan is quiet and still while I see to the rest of his injuries.
When I’m done, I gather the bloody bowl of water, the dirty wipes, the gauze, and the melted ice pack and dispose of them in the supply closet.
When I return with a fresh ice pack, Nathan is in the same position as before, eyes closed, head tilted back against the wall.
Gently, I press the ice pack to his bruised cheek. Nathan reaches up and takes it from me. Then, his eyes still closed, he leans forward and removes his shirt.
My first instinct is to look away, but then I see the fat bruise on his stomach and my breath hitches.
Nathan leans back again, pressing the ice pack to his stomach.
I stand before him, at a loss for what to do or say. I can feel him pulling away, shutting down, and I feel helpless.
As if he can hear my thoughts and feel my internal turmoil, Nathan shifts slightly. Then, he pats the space next to him on the examination table.
I bite my lip, my heart skipping a beat as I push myself up beside him.
With a sigh, he leans towards me, and his head drops on my shoulder.
“Just for a few minutes,” he whispers, and the raw vulnerability in his voice breaks my heart all over again.
I lean towards him, resting my head against his. “Lean on me for as long as you want,” I whisper shakily.
“That’s a dangerous statement to make, April.” His voice is just as soft but strained.
I feel the weight of his words descend on me. Maybe I didn’t let myself fully understand the gravity of his words back then in my room, when he told me about his family. But seeing it firsthand has thrown out any illusions I might have had that he was exaggerating.
So, the question stands: Do I leave? Run away and save myself before it’s too late?
Or do I stay with this beautiful, flawed, broken boy and brave whatever comes my way?
I turn my head and place a kiss on the top of Nathan’s head.
“I mean it with all my heart,” I declare fiercely.
Nathan’s answer is to take my hand in his and squeeze.
Comfortable silence blankets the room, and I think Nathan has fallen asleep. But then he says, “You should wait till June fully recovers,” he takes a shuddering breath-“before you leave.”
Leave?
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17:13 Wed, Oct 8
Chapter 113
How could I possibly leave? Could I walk away and have this be my last memory of Nathan?
“Will you,“—I swallow hard-“will you tell me what happened?”
He lifts his other shoulder in a shrug. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it does.”
He shakes his head, his hair brushing against my face. “It doesn’t. Because you’re leaving and putting all this behind you.”
“You were asking me to stay a while ago.”
There’s a pause. And then, “Now I’m asking you to leave.”
I close my eyes as a tear rolls down my cheek. I so don’t want to cry anymore, but the emotions are threatening to drown me.
“And…” I sniff and force my voice to be steady. “And if I insist on staying?”
He lifts his head off my shoulder, and I turn to him. Our faces are so close to each other, I could count his eyelashes.
“You were going to leave, April,” he says softly, his breath fanning my lips. “Don’t stay because you pity me.”
A sob tears out of my throat. “Pity you? Nathan, I love you.”
A shudder runs through him like my words are ice crawling down his spine.
“I love you,” I repeat, my voice stronger. “And pity is not what I feel right now.”
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Nathan switches the hands holding the ice pack to his chest and reaches up, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “What do you feel?” he asks hesitantly.
My lower lip trembles. “I’m mad.”
He frowns. “At me?”
I shake my head, an incredulous laugh falling off my lips. “No, not at you.”
I cup his swollen cheek, and his slight wince causes more tears to form in my eyes.
“I’m mad at the bastard who did this to you.”
Nathan closes his eyes and sighs. He tilts his head, pressing his lips against my palm.
“My family sucks, April.”
I sniff. “You mentioned.”
“So leave like you said you would.”
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17:13 Wed, Oct 81
Chapter 113
I was going to leave to save June from the danger lurking in the Ashford Manor. But who’s going to save Nathan?
1 cup his other cheek and pull his face to me. I press my lips against his forehead, and a sigh flows out of him.
“No,” I whisper against his skin.
He reaches out and grips my shirt tightly, “Leave, April. Get as far away from this fucked up place as you can.”
Even as he says those words, he pulls me closer by my shirt, and my resolve strengthens.
“No.”
A single sob racks his entire body. My arms slip around him, cradling his head against my chest.
“Why won’t you ever do as I ask?” His voice is rough, his words mangled. “You want to leave when I ask you to stay, and you want to stay when I ask you to leave.”
“Tough luck,” I say tightly.
“You can’t stay, April,” he says. “I was being selfish earlier, but I shouldn’t be. I—”
I shake my head. “Do it.” I gently cup his head and pull back so I can look into his eyes.
“Be selfish when it comes to me.” I press our foreheads together. “Forget everyone else and focus only on me.”
The air around us feels charged, like the very atmosphere is holding its breath in this moment.
“I’ll do it, too,” I continue. “For the first time in my life, I’ll be selfish. I won’t worry about June or anyone else. I’ll focus solely on you.”
Nathan’s face crumples, and I pull him to me again, resting his head on my shoulder.
“What if you get hurt, too?” he sobs.
I shake my head. “I don’t care. I’m not worrying about anything but you.”
“I’m worrying about you!”
I nod, stroking his hair, feeling the soft curls tangle in my fingers. I feel a slight lump on the back of his head and swallow a sob. He must have had his hair pulled. “Good. Worry about me, and I’ll worry about you. We’ll take care of each other.”
Nathan’s sobs intensify–powerful, racking, devastating sounds that resonate in the depths of my soul. I hold him tighter, letting my silent tears fall.
At the back of my mind, I think: It shouldn’t be this bad; it shouldn’t be this hard.
But it is. The beautiful, lively boy I loved in high school is not the broken man in my arms.
But I’m not the quiet, naïve sixteen–year–old I was once either.
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17:13 Wed, Oct 8
Chapter 113
Life has hit me hard–broken and weathered and reformed me. Maybe for this moment.
Maybe so my broken could meet his broken, and together, we could heal the cracks in our hearts.
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