Page 109 of Encounter

Just promise me you’ll stop destroying yourself. It’s not worth it. If there’s anything you should take away from this shitshow it’s thatyou’re stronger than you think.

I loTake care. Please.

Chast

My tears seeped into the thin, already scratched and smudged paper in my hands, making the ink bleed. Before I had a chance to take control of the pulsing ball of emotions inside my chest, I burst into tears. Whimpering and skipping breaths, I held the letter in my hands and covered my face with it, bending down on the chair.

I never wanted to leave him. I never wanted to not see him again, to be alone again. I could never go back to the way I lived before—to surviving in this stupid house, alone.

Chast’s voice echoed in my head, the words of his letter singing to me, making my heart feel warm and... full.

This is completely hopeless.

?

The next two hours, I spent in self-inflicted emotional agony. Re-reading the letter over and over again, crying more, rolling around in bed hoping it would help me get my thoughts straight. I even tried to sleep it all off, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking—thinking about Chast, about seeing him.

I knew the whole time that I didn’t really have achoice. I was always going to do what I did. I was always going to decide the same way.

My body was on edge. My mind became scrambled— completely turned into mush and getting worse with each passing second as I waited for Chast’s reply.

As much as I enjoyed this timid, submissive side to Chast—because it made me feel like he really cared—I hated it at the same time. I hated the thought of him feeling like he described in that letter. I hated being torn apart.

Hesitant, I stared at the message before pressing send.Does that sound like I’m wanting to break up with him? Will he think I’m desperate to meet him so eagerly?

I wanted to put all of this behind us. To clear things up.

I trembled with anticipation—nervousness too, but not so much fear anymore. Jumping out of my bed, I went to the bathroom to assess the damages. My cheeks were puffy and eyes a bit sore, but the fact that it was dark outside eased my worries.

Taking a few deep breaths, I closed my eyes and tried to steady myself.

As I glanced at the bathroom cabinet, I wondered again why I didn’t do it. Why I didn’t completely break down and surrender myself to that instinct. What happened was the perfect opportunity, the perfect storm. Yet... I didn’t.

It couldn’t have been a coincidence—that something in me changed so profoundly, after so many years of struggling with self-harm. No matter how many times Chast tried to steer me away from him, toward ‘normal’ life, he was the reason I was changing for the better. Technically, he might have been a criminal, but his life was fuller and more normal than mine.

In sweats and a t-shirt, I walked through the street. The area Chast picked, a few blocks away from my house, really was ideal for our awkward meeting—close to the houses but set aside in a little dead-end street between stores, mostly shrouded in darkness.I arrived too early, so I waited on the corner, hugging my arms to warm myself up and constantly checked my surroundings.

By the time Chast’s car finally appeared in the distance, I was about to surrender to my paranoia and cold. Instead, my chest tightened up and warmed up—in a soft, comfortable, weighted blanket kind of way.

Our eyes met for a second as the car slowly parked into the secluded empty spot.

Walking to the passenger's door, I felt a pleasant knot twist in my stomach. I got in and sat, but instead of that familiar confidence, Chast stared down at the wheel. His hands wrapped around it tightly, and his shoulders lifted slowly with controlled, deep breaths.

“Thanks for... meetin’ me,” he said, voice low and somewhat shaky.

Tugging at my heart, I fought the urge to touch his shoulder—to do anything for him to snap out of that state. “How’s the cut?”

A smile flashed on his face, and finally, Chast met my eyes. “It’s fine. You did a good job. The doc was impressed.”

---