Page 19 of Digit's Deflection
“Li? Liora?” When I don’t respond, “Liora-Jane. Are you with me?” With a barely there nod, I finally respond. “Focus on how my chest is moving beneath your hand. Concentrate all your focus on my chest and follow me. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Again.” Closing my eyes, concentrating on the rhythm of Treven’s breathing, I attempt to follow.
In and out. In and out.
Slowly, the black tinge recedes, and the ringing in my ears begins to quieten. “That’s it, princess. You’ve got this. Nice and slow, deep breath in, and release. Again.”
When my breathing is eventually back under control and the tears have slowed, then stopped, I give in to the need to rest my head on his shoulder. It feels too heavy to hold it up. Drifting, no conscious thought in my brain, I’m startled when Treven gets to his feet, me held securely in his arms.
“Come on, you need some rest.”
“No,” I moan, cringing when my words sound like those of a whiny child. But I can’t help it. I’m not ready for him to leave again. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I won’t, but I do think you need to get some sleep. It’s been a rough day.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I won’t leave you. Let’s get you into some comfy pjs and I’ll hold you while you go off to sleep.”
“No, because then you’re going to leave.” I can hear the words come out of my mouth and die a little inside at how childish they sound. But I feel so raw and adrift I can’t seem to stop the words from coming out.
“Princess, I promise, Iwon’t. I’ll stay here as long as you need me to. Okay?”
“Okay,” I reply.
Since the apartment isn’t exactly a palace, it doesn’t take a GPS to find my bedroom. Treven lowers my feet to the floor, and when he’s sure I have my footing, he steps back to survey the small room.
“I’m going to need you to point me in the right direction of all the things – cleanser, pajamas, hairbrush.”
“Um, I can do it.”
“Yeah, I know, but you don’t have to. So, to expedite the process, since it’ll go quicker than me having to hunt for everything, point me in the right direction, and we can get some shut eye.”
Sighing, I give in, knowing it’s not worth arguing over and tell him where everything is. In no time, my makeup’s been removed, my hair’s been brushed, and with his back turned, waited for me to change into my nightwear. Then turns back the bedding and helps me into bed.
As he smooths the covers over me, I try to tamp down the panic that he is, in fact, going to leave. But, true to his word, he goes around to the other side of the bed, toes off his sneakers, and climbs on top of the blankets. Making himself comfortable, he rolls onto his side so he’s facing me.
Everything in me squirms as he looks into my eyes, as if trying to see all the way down into my soul. “I need to know, for myself, is it something I did that made you run that day?”
Closing my eyes, I can picture it all so clearly in my mind – the candlelight, the effort he’d gone to making everything sopretty, and the overwhelming sense of panic as the material around my wrists pulled tighter and the usual sense of helplessness sank its claws into me.
My eyes still closed, unable to look him in his eyes, I reply, “Yes, but no.” Before he can ask, I continue, “Let’s just say it was years of conditioning triggered by something you did.”
My jaw cracks as a massive yawn comes over me. I want to peek to see how Treven’s reacted to my words, but I’m so comfortable and my lids are so heavy with exhaustion, I can’t quite get them to obey my command to open.
I hear him say something, but I can’t quite make out what he says. “Hmm?”
I’m not sure if he repeats himself, because at that point I simply pass out.
When next I become aware of my surroundings, there’s light showing around the chink of my not-quite-closed curtains. Rolling over onto my back, I turn my head in Treven’s direction and pry my eyes open, only to find the bed empty beside me. Immediately, I begin to stress. I knew it. He said he wouldn’t leave, and he did.
Just to make sure, I climb out of bed and pad to the open plan living area to find no one there. Even though the door is open, I check the bathroom anyway, hoping I’m wrong. No one there either.
“I fucking knew it.” Rubbing a hand over my now aching chest – mainly because I one hundred percent refuse to give in to the tears pressing against the back of my eyes – I crawl back under the covers and pull them over my head. Much like I used to on the days depression had me so down I couldn’t face the world.
I’m at a complete loss as to what to do with myself. This space I so lovingly decorated to be my safe haven, my sanctuary, doesn’t feel like that right this second. Treven’s presence is nowvivid in my mind’s eye, and I want to kick myself for letting him in.
Listening to the clock in the kitchen, I count off thetick, tick, ticksof the mechanism. Mesmerized by the sound, I let it lull me into a kind of trance, drifting in a semi-aware state. I’m startled by the sound of my front door and a feeling of déjà vu settles over me.
I hear his footsteps come down the hall, and then there he is. Hair damp, muscles glistening in the low light, looking good enough to eat. His smile as his gaze collides with mine takes my breath away.
