Page 45 of The Space Between
“Yes.” She says.
“You remember what happened the last time you went in, Blakelyn.” I reply through clenched teeth.
Her face softens but she nods. “Yes, Gruene, I remember.”
Me, too. She flipped out of her tub, banged up her hip, and I fucked her on the riverbank after hauling her out of the river and having a panic attack.
“And you still want to?” is all I say.
She lifts her chin. “I have to. I don’t want to be scared of the river, Gruene.”
I exhale through my nose because I get it.
I don’t like it.
I get it.
She wants to reclaim something.
Maybe it’s about power. Or fear. Or memory.
Or maybe she’s just tired of flinching.
I follow her down to the water, not because she asks, but because Ihaveto.
She steps into the river slowly, her feet sinking into the silty bottom. Her breathing is shaky as the current catches her calves, pulling at her, but she widens her stance and stays upright.
She doesn’t look back at me, standing here watching her with my heart in my throat and my pulse so loud in my ears I can’t hear anything else. She doesn’t ask me to come closer. She just walks forward until she’s chest-deep, arms wrapping around herself like armor. The current is pulling at her. I see it. I see her fighting it. But she’s winning.
Then—slowly—she dunks under, disappearing beneath the green water.
My heart stops beating. But then, she rises… laughing. Her head is tilted back. Her hair is slicked down her back. River droplets are dripping from her lashes. And fuck me, I’ve never seen anything more alive.
Then, she looks at me and grins.
She softly says, “Are you coming in?”
I freeze as the water glistens behind her like a grave and shake my head. “You know I can’t.”
She floats closer, still grinning. “Youcould,Gruene.You have. I’ve seen you.”
“No.” I flatly reply.
Her expression shifts and her lips purse, but she simply says, “Okay,” softly, not pushing. “Then, just stay.”
I do.
She swims for ten more minutes, then wades out, teeth chattering and nipples pebbling beneath the wet cling of her now see-through sports bra.
She doesn’t seem to care that she’s practically naked with her wet clothes.
I sure as hell don’t care, she’s beautiful. Like a Siren, but I toss her the towel and wrap an arm around her anyway, pulling her close.
She tucks her head under my chin, her body trembling.
Without intending to, I say the one thing I’ve been choking on since the second I tasted her lips. “This is more than I meant for it to be.”
She looks up at me. Her eyes are wide, hopeful, and cautious, but she says, “It is for me, too.”
