Page 28 of Tears and Other Fears

They argued a lot. I tuned it out. I cried a little when Noah pressed his index finger to my neck. My skin felt clammy and numb. There was an unsettling chill beneath my tendons, muscles, and bone. It was one of those soul-deep feelings you couldn’t shake.

“Did anything happen that could have triggered this?” Noah asked.

“I beat up Samuel yesterday. Then we had sex. Afterwards, she kind of seemed in a fog, but it wasn’t abnormal. We spent the day together, watched TV, then fell asleep. I left to speak with Samuel’s internship coordinator to have him removed from the program, and when I got back, she was like this.”

Noah fumed. “Did she want to have sex?”

“She didn’t say no. I didn’t fucking rape her, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“We had goodbye sex,” I whispered.

Both of them snapped their heads to me in surprise. It was like they’d forgotten I was there. I couldn’t even blame them.

“What do you mean, Babe?” Noah asked while sitting on the mattress next to me. He gathered my hand in his, and normally I’d fight the touch, but I didn’t have it in me to remind him that he was a piece of shit therapist and that I was still hung up on his betrayal.

I sat up and wiped at my eyes, wincing when I saw makeup on the pads of my fingers left from my smeared mascara. “I’m done, Noah. William is gone. Mrs. Mulberry is gone. You’re gone. I’m gone.”

“Babe, I’m right here, you aren’t making any sense,” Noah insisted.

Of course I wasn’t making any sense. No one ever understood what I meant. My motives were always interpreted with biased eyes. Explaining your feelings to someone when you can't even explain them to yourself was the hardest shit ever. I didn’t understand how I could want to die one moment and then find a reason to live the next. I didn’t understand how sex could heal me and break me. I didn’t understand how my heart could yearn for someone when it wanted to push everyone away.

Everyone responded differently to sadness. It turned some kind, some bitter, and some resigned. It just turned me into everything at once. Maybe I lost myself in seeking answers. Maybe I was so caught up in finding out who to point the finger at, that I lost the will to heal. This entire process was meant to help me cope with the painful loss I’d endured, but it just made it worse.

I was spiraling. Spinning. Trying. Dying. Fading. Shading. Painting vibrant deaths with my mind. I hadn’t held a paintbrush in months, but my fingers had blood-red paint splatters all over them.

More time passed. They debated on what to do. Where to take me. A thousand times, I screamed in my head the demand for silence, but not even a whimper could break through my clenched teeth. I heard the front door open in the distance, and I prayed it wasn’t Samuel.

“Who is that?” Noah asked. Young let out a huff and threw his hands up.

“I didn’t know what to do. He’s another one of her…friends.”

The bedroom door opened, and in walked Renon. He looked like he’d just gotten here from the bar. His eyes were lazy and red. His clothes were dark and rumpled, but the idle grin on his face was addictive. “Crazy girl. If you wanted another orgasm, all you had to do was ask,” he joked, ignoring the annoyed look on Young’s face and Noah’s obvious confusion.

I licked my lips and noticed how dry they were. “I don’t need your lackluster orgasms, Renon,” I rasped as he circled the bed and sat down. I watched, transfixed as he unlaced his boots and slipped under the covers.

“For fuck’s sake. Make yourself at home,” Young growled under his breath. I smiled a fraction. Renon smelled like whiskey and smoke, the tobacco invading my senses and making my nose wrinkle.

“Octavia the Vengeful,” Renon began while breathing me in. “You smell like sex and sadness. I’m a little drunk and a lot tired. Mind if I hold you until you’re you again?” he asked, and it was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard. It was something William would have said.

“Please,” I croaked, appreciating that he didn’t ask questions or try tofixme. He just wanted to be near.

Noah and Young exchanged looks, both obviously confused about what I needed. After a long, pregnant pause, Noah finally spoke. “I guess we will check on you in the morning?”

I threaded my fingers through Young’s and squeezed. “Stay,” I pleaded.

Stay.

Stay.

Stay.

Did anyone ever really stay?

Young bit his lip for a moment of indecision but eventually slid into bed on my other side. He didn’t hold me like Renon did, but I felt his warmth flooding my skin. “I’m here, Tav. I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t offer him forgiveness or understanding. I just rubbed my foot along his calf. We’d have to talk about us and about the goodbyes bottled in my touch. But not now. That was a conversation for Octavia the Vengeful. Noah didn’t lie down in the bed or find a spot on the floor. He hovered over us all. Watching with those silent, protective eyes.

And again, I slept.

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