Page 91 of Indigo

They all look at each other, clearly worried, even though they try to hide it from me.

I’m at the point now where I don’t know if I should take her to a doctor or a shrink. She barely eats, she sleeps all day. She won’t leave this house, no matter how much I try to get her out.

“Hey,” Jagger says, suddenly by my side as I stare at a blank wall, my mind racing. “We’re here, brother. Let’s get this place cleaned up, yeah? And then we can figure it out together.”

His reassuring hold on my shoulder does nothing to convince me of his words, but I smile at him anyway, as best I can, to make him, at least, feel a little better.

???

A soft cry wakes me from my restless sleep, and I toss the blanket from my body the moment I open my eyes.

I hold my breath and listen carefully, unsure if I was dreaming or if Indie is awake.

Sure enough, after a moment, I hear her whimper again, and I’m racing to her room before I can stop myself.

Until now, she’s locked the door during the night, stopping me from coming in when she needs time to herself, and I’ve spent more nights than I can count sitting on the couch, crying with her as I listen to her grieve through the walls, but tonight, it’s unlocked.

I let out a breath as I push it open, only to find her bed empty. The blankets are in a ball on the floor, her pillows too, and the sound of running water draws my attention to the attached ensuite.

Walking in, I’m met with a steamy room, and squint my eyes trying to spot Indie through it.

“Oh, baby,” I whisper as I look down and see my girl sitting on the shower floor, still wearing my shirt and socks, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocks herself back and forth on the tiles.

I don’t hesitate to join her, even though I know there’s every chance she’ll push me away, as she always does when I try to comfort her. I simply pull open the shower screen and move behind her, letting the water pour over me, the temperature almost scolding as it hits my bare back and drenches my pyjama pants.

My heart swells as I spread my legs and pull her back into me so that my body is cradling hers, and for once, she doesn’t fight it. The quiet sobs that leave her mouth cut through my soul like a blade, but she turns into my chest and clings to me. That’s something, at least.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” she cries, pressing her face harder against my skin. “How am I supposed to be this sad for the rest of my life?”

I know there is no right answer to her question. No need for one, so I hold her, making soothing noises in her ear as she cries and pray to whoever’s listening that tomorrow will be better than today, and that one day, the pain from Lana’s death won’t be as sharp as it is right now.

When we finally get out of the shower, I gently strip Indie of her clothes as she stands emotionless in front of me, simply raising her arms and bending her knees when I need her to. The hope that bubbled up inside of me while I held her only moments ago, gone.

She’s gone.

Again.

After leading her back into the bedroom and helping her into a new pair of pink striped pyjamas, she shakes off my hold, and moves to her side of the bed, sitting down and staring blankly at the wall opposite her.

I don’t know how to get through to her, so I do the only thing I can think of. I fall to my knees in front of her, and take her face between my hands, searching her eyes for any sign of the girl I’ve been in love with all these years.

Dark circles frame her eyes, her once gorgeous, plump lips are thinned and chapped, and she refuses to meet my gaze.

“Please let me back in, Blue. Please. I can't stand this silence anymore. I don't know what to do. This wall you've built between us is scaring the shit out of me. Where are you? You're so deep inside your head I can't reach you. Please, just give me something. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Her eyes become glassy and then, finally, she looks at me. Her bottom lip trembles, my heart physically hurts at the sight, and I feel like an asshole for making her upset again, but something’s got to give. We can’t live like this.

“Please,” I beg.

She takes a deep breath and stands, forcing my hands to release her face.

My shoulders sag as I wait for her to get into bed, still on my knees.

She’s going to turn away from me, pull the covers up, and escape back into her head. She’s going to shut me out again.

I stay there, my chin pressed to my chest as I try to find the strength to get up and leave her in here alone, but just as I climb to my feet, her voice breaks through the silence.

“Will you lay with me?”

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