Page 44 of Was I Ever Free

It’s quiet on the other side of our adjoining rooms, all I hear is the distinct click of a keyboard while Bastian is busy working. I see him pass by the open door connecting our rooms once in a while, wearing nothing but jeans, his gaze at times lingering on me and the bed I am laying in. I wonder if he’s replaying what happened last night. I know I am.

It has been five days since this deal between us started and my nerves seem to have settled along with it. It’s hard to explain with words how I feel when everything I experience is somehow life-changing—as if I’ve been finding a piece of me in the palm of my hand every time I surmount something new.

Even this distance between Bastian and I is somehow comforting, like the rain falling outside my room. It might have made me feel wary at the beginning but now I expect it. Embrace it even. It is not the typical silence I’ve had to endure my whole life. A kind of silence that would carry an unknown threat. It would keep me on edge until the threat materialized… usually as my husband.

No, this silence feels like breathing.

Lungfuls of oxygen, when I’ve been suffocating my whole life.

I hear my cell phone ringing from somewhere at the bottom of my bag and I scramble to find it before the call ends. I know it’s Lenix.

“Hi, sister of mine,” she sing-songs when I pick up. “How’s your second week of being on the road?” Without letting me answer, she adds, “I hope Bastian isn’t giving you much of a hard time. He can be such a prude sometimes I swear to God.”

All of the things we have done in the past week flash in quick succession in my mind and I breathe out a choked laugh, trying to disguise it into a few forced coughs.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yes.” Laughing more effortlessly now. “Yes, I’m fine. Everything is great actually. We’ve been staying at this one motel for the past few days just to relax.”

“Oh?” The pause that follows feels pregnant with questions, but eventually, she only asks me one. “So, like, what have you been doing if not traveling?”

“You’re doing it again,” I tell her, my tone amused but with a slight bite.

“Doing what?” she says, but then laughs. “Okay fine, sorry, I can’t help but worry. I just want you safe—are you safe?”

“More than safe,” I say with a smile.

I stay on the phone with Lenix for another twenty minutes, catching up on what is happening back in Noxport. As always Connor is getting on her nerves but she loves him to death. Sunny, her best friend, bought a boat for her seaside cottage in Midnight Cove, and how her boyfriend Byzantine wants to christen it Windflower.

In turn, I tell her all about how I sang at an open mic last night. As expected, she chokes up and then gushes about how proud she is of me. She then reminds me of how much she loves me and I do the same.

After I end the call, I let my head fall back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling while my thoughts ebb and flow like a soft breeze in my mind’s eye. It’s not long until I land back on Bridget and what transpired last night. I still don’t know all the details since Bastian didn’t offer much information on the ride home or after we… did what we did.

It is now early afternoon and I decide it’s a better time than any to go check up on her. I do not bother telling Bastian where I’m going, it’s only a few doors down. Finding my flip-flops near the door, I slip out. I rap on Bridget’s door, hoping Ritchie is miraculously somewhere else, so I can speak with her without him overhearing. The metal awning protects me from the rain, the water rattling against it while I wait.

I’m about to turn back to my room when the door opens and Bridget appears, wearing large dark sunglasses. They feel out of place. Especially with the overcast weather outside. My stomach drops. Something is wrong.

“Lucy!” she tries to say cheerily, but her voice sounds hoarse and slightly forced. She peers over my shoulder as if looking for someone and then back at me. “Look, uh, I’m kind of busy right now. I don’t really have time for a visit.”

Her tongue darts out of her mouth, it’s subtle as if unconscious. My gaze narrows on her upper lip, realizing it is split under her red lipstick.

“Bridget…” I whisper in shock. “What did he do?”

My heart starts to beat wildly in my chest at the thought of Ritchie putting his hands on her. I try to push the door open, but Bridget resists.

“I’m fine, Lucy,” she says hurriedly, looking over my shoulder again. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about me. Now is just not a good time, okay?”

My throat tightens, not knowing what else to do but let her feed me her lies.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” she says reassuringly, but I do not believe her.

She doesn’t let me answer, quickly closing the door, effectively shutting me out.

I stare at the door, my mind racing, unable to move for what feels like an eternity, this helplessness growing larger and larger inside of me.

Images of my mother pretending the same. My older sister Claire. They would disappear until the bruises faded, split lip mended. Everything was always fine.

Everythingneededto be fine.

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