Page 104 of This I Know
I close my eyes.
Cole’s weight is lifted off me in a heavenly release. I can breathe again. I draw my legs up to my chest and roll over. I’m glad I can’t see anything right now, but I can hear enough, and what I hear makes me want to stuff my fingers in my ears.
There are scuffles and violent groans, and then someone gives a big shove. Someone falls, landing hard against either the floor or the wall.
A long pause.
No one says a word. My own breath is the only thing I hear.
Finally, there’s the sound of someone rising.
The sound of footsteps descends into the distance, followed by the door shutting peacefully. From inside the house, the door’s lock turns with a squeak and stops abruptly when it’s been fully latched.
Footsteps approach me.
I put my fingers in my ears. I actually do it, like a little kid not wanting to face reality.
Someone’s touching me. Their hand lightly shakes my shoulder. They’re pulling me lightly, trying to get me to turn over.
I resist.
“Avery?” a voice says. I can hear it through the muffle of my fingers. My fingers are failing me. I want to hear nothing.
I keep my eyes closed. At least that can’t fail me.
The voice doesn’t speak again. Instead, it touches me more. It slides its arms underneath my body, one under my back and the other under my knees. It’s lifting me. I’m in the air.
I don’t want to, but I take my fingers out of my ears and turn toward the body that’s holding me in order to stabilize myself. I place one arm behind it, again hating the need. I bury my face in the crook of its chest and arm out of fear alone.
This feels good. The chest is perfectly warm and smells like cedar.
It places me down.
I’m on my couch. I welcome the familiarity, sticking my hands to the cushy fabric that is mine but still refusing to open my eyes.
I hear the flick of a light switch, and the room lights up in front of my lids.
The couch sinks as someone sits down next to me.
As I come down, I try to calm my breathing. It’s still panicky. I should try the exercises my therapist taught me. Breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. I do it, and I like it. It gives me something to focus on.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
It’s not working.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
In through the nose, out through the–
His lips meet mine.
The kiss is tender and slow. It’s everything I’ve been waiting for. Part of me knew it was Ethan all along, but another part of me wanted nothing to do with him or anyone else in the previous moments.
He touches my arm. His fingers are warm and smooth and they run over mine in a smooth rhythm, calming me better than any therapy ever could.
When my breath returns to a normal pace, he pulls away.
