Page 85 of Indigo

He drove straight here from the hospital. I didn’t even have to tell him this is where I wanted to be. He just knew.

I turn to face him, wincing as I take in his red-rimmed eyes. I know he’s hurting, too. He loved her like a mother, but I can’t console him, can’t even look at him without hurting more than I already am.

I want to run from this, hide myself away. I don’t want to love him right now. I don’t want him to love me, because the look in his eyes as he searches mine fucking hurts.

Everything hurts.

“You can go,” I croak, my voice hoarse. The words sting as I force them from my mouth.

He shakes his head and steps forward, but I step back, maintaining the same space between us.

“Baby,” he pleads. “Let me hold you. Let me help.”

I shake my head, my vision blurring. “No. Please. Go.”

“I won’t leave you like this. I’m not going anywhere.”

I turn my back on him and wrap my arms around myself. I pray he just walks away. Pray he doesn’t fight me on this anymore, but then his voice cuts through the silence, and even though it’s only just above a whisper, it feels as though his statement echoes around the kitchen.

“I love you, Blue. I’m right here. Always.”

I look out of the window above the sink, at the rotting wooden cubby house my mother built for me when I was six. To this day, she refused to rip down even though it was an unusable eyesore. She knew what it meant to me. She would have done anything to make me happy.

“If I’d just gone with her,” I say aloud, the thought still repeating over and over in my mind.

“Don’t. Don’t even think it,” Pax says, and I watch him in the reflection of the glass as he moves closer.

I equally do and do not want his comfort, his touch.

As his chest warms my back, I hang my head, shame washing over me. “I should have. I could have saved her.”

It’s the truth and we both know it.

If I’d been there, she wouldn’t have fallen, or if she did, I would have been there to jump in before it was too late. I would have been there to start CPR earlier if she needed it. I would have been able to call an ambulance the moment it happened.

She would be alive if I’d just gone with her.

“Baby, you can’t think like that,” he whispers, running his nose along the back of my head, taking in a deep breath. He places his hands on my upper arms and tries to rub them soothingly up and down, but his pity makes my skin crawl.

“I want to be alone,” I say, my tone sharper than I intend it to be as I shake off his touch.

He stands there helplessly and watches as I walk out of the room. I know, because I feel his eyes on my back.

I rush and lock myself in Mum’s bedroom.

The ache in my chest intensifies to the point where I think it’ll kill me as I look around, sliding down the now closed door until my ass hits the floor.

This was her favourite room. Where we’d curl up under the patchwork blanket and watch movies in bed. We’d do our makeup in her ensuite, at her double vanity. This is where we’d talk about our days at night, and then brush our teeth together before I’d retreat to my own room to sleep. I’d creep in here as a child when I’d had a bad dream. She’d always be awake, the blanket already lifted and waiting for me as I tiptoed to the edge of her bed.

How did she do that? How did she always know?

I stay there, on the floor, too afraid to move, as the memories flash before my eyes, playing out in front of me like a movie, and at some point, Pax tries to open the door.

The handle above my head jiggles around for a moment before he gives up. I listen as he mimics my position, dropping to the floor on the opposite side of the door, and resting his head against the wood.

How is this ever going to feel better?

With that thought, I curl up on my side, placing my hands under my head, using them as a pillow.

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