There was nothing I could do but stay composed and keep her centered until it passed. “Can you focus on my voice?” I allowed her nails to gouge dents in the backs of my hands while pebbles and glass shards punctured my kneecaps.
As she nodded, her eyes dilated and teary, I continued to speak, guiding her through calming breathing exercises I’d learned during my medical training. “Good. You’re doing good. Slow, deep breaths. In and out….in and out.”
Halley’s chest hissed with each taut breath, her lungs wheezy as her focus stayed locked on my face. Her eyes swam with swirling ghosts, shades of gray tinted with moonlight.
“That’s it.” I nodded slowly, dusting my thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.” I repeated the mantra, maintaining an encouraging smile as I watched the tension start to ebb. Cars and passersby whirred past the opening of the alleyway, the clamoring of engines and laughter mere background noise. When Halley finally drank in a full, lung-satisfying breath, she slumped forward into my arms with a sharp cry.
I unlinked our fingers and wrapped my arms around her, catching her. Outstretching my legs, I allowed her to crawl into my lap as we sat in the middle of the craggy asphalt and I stroked her hair.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered, smashing her face against my chest. “I’m broken.”
“You’re not broken.”
“He said something my father used to say…a-and I panicked. He called me a lamb. It was like a thread snapping. A trigger. And it’s stupid and embarrassing, and all I want to do is be normal, but I can’t escape this helpless, awful feeling.” Her words bled together, a jumble of torment. “Everywhere I go, I see him lurking in the shadows. Every time my mind wanders, I hear his voice, feel his leather belt on my skin. I’m always scared. I’m always running. But I’m running in circles, and it’s exhausting, and it’s endless, and I just want to be free.”
I pulled her face up with both palms, gathering her tears with my thumbs. Bloodshot eyes stared back at me, her lipstick and mascara smeared. “Listen to me. When something breaks you, you pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. Maybe it’s with stitches and glue sticks, but it’s enough to keep going. Nobody needs to stay broken.”
“I don’t know what to do.” She sniffled through her shivers. “And you’re the last person I should be falling apart with.”
“Maybe.” I dusted off her wet cheeks. “But I’m the one who’s here.”
Halley stared down at the cracks in the pavement, the tension in her body deflating as her breathing settled to normal. “Do you ever fall apart?”
“Of course I do.”
“I can’t picture it,” she whispered. “You’re strong. Resilient.”
“I’m human. Just like you.” I inched back, giving her space to breathe. To process. “I don’t let many people in. If I seem resilient it’s because I’ve built walls around myself. That’s not exactly healthy either. I have very few close relationships because most of them have led to heartache.”
She licked the tears from her lips and glanced back up at me. “I don’t want to be weak anymore.”
“You are not weak.” I reached for her face again, my grip on her cheeks tighter than before. “I promise you that. Get that shit out of your head.”
“It is true. You just witnessed it.”
“I witnessed the psychological ramifications of an abusive household,” I said firmly, forcing her eyes on me. “I swear to you, Halley, you are not weak. You’re recovering. And recovery takes time. I’ll help you, if you need someone to talk to.”
Halley’s eyes glazed over as she stared at me, her tears glinting in the streetlight. Heaving in a shuddery breath, she lifted a hand and draped it over mine, her touch soft. A gentle caress.
A thank you.
She nodded, drinking in my words, my truth, and offered the smallest smile. “Are you here to save me?”
She’d asked me that same question at Jay’s apartment, on the night we’d met, our backs pressed to a faded-blue couch.
Are you here to save me?
Our eyes stayed locked for another beat, a warm, confusing feeling coursing through my bloodstream. I saw her so clearly in that moment. Her pain, her agony. Her clawing need for strength. She needed someone in her corner, fighting for her. And Halley was right—it shouldn’t be me.
But I was a born fighter and it was in my nature to protect. To defend. I wanted to mold her pain into perseverance; into something worthy and commendable.
I wanted to turn her into someone who could save herself.
Halley squeezed my hand. “Take me home,” she said, smiling again, a heartwarming tilt of her lips. It softened my jagged edges. Wormed its way inside like a pesky invader.
Dangerous. Lethal.
A breach in my steely resolve.