Page 18 of The Space Between
And yet neither of us lets go. We stay there, staring at each other, pulses racing, breathing accelerated, not moving… stuck in the space betweenwantandfear.
Finally,she exhales and stands. I let her. She leaves with a whispered, “Goodnight, Gruene,” and I walk to the edge of the river and stare down into the black water. Thoughts, so many thoughts, swirling through my head.
I imagineherthere.
Blakelyn.
Not lifeless.Alive.
Floating on her back with her eyes closed, her mouth parted, and the midday sun on her face.
Free. Untouched.Safe.
And I think…
I want her to stay free.
Even if it means never touching her again.
Even if it means tearing out every piece of myself I’ve buried just to keep her from breaking.
Another voice deep inside me whispers what I already know.
I’m not that selfless.
Not anymore.
Not now.
Not with her this close.
And not with her waking up the parts of myself I thought I buried that night on the river.
CHAPTER 4
Blakelyn
I dream of the river.
Not the real one—the cool, winding one outside my cabin—but a version my mind shapes in sleep. Endless, still, black glass. No banks. No trees. Just water and sky and the shadow of a man standing in the middle of it, like he was always part of it.
Gruene.
In the dream, he doesn’t speak. He just watches me sink below the surface. And I don’t fight it. I just…descend… accepting my fate.
I wake up gasping. I’m slick with sweat. My chest is tight, my thighs are clenched, and my hands are twisted in the sheets like I’ve been holding on for dear life.
My skin prickles. I want to run but notfromsomething…tosomething… or rather tosomeone.
Glancing at the clock, I push out of bed and don’t bother with makeup or a change of clothes. Yanking on cutoff shorts over my panties, I don’t bother slipping on a bra under my tank top. My bare feet slap against the wood floor as I move toward the door.
My body hums with something I can’t name… I don’t want to recognize it.
It’s not panic.
It’sneed.
It’s barely after 7AM,but the Texas sun is already clawing at the trees. The gravel path stings under my feet as I walk barefoot toward the tubing shack. I don’t even care. I’d walk through fire right now just to see him.
