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“Try to get some more sleep, your body still needs to recuperate.” I stand up, preparing to leave the room. Afraid if I stay, I won’t be able to stop myself from touching her in some way. She’s like a magnet I’m constantly feeling pulled towards.
“Will you stay with me?” She asks, her voice even quieter than the last time she spoke. It stops me in my tracks. I shouldn’t stay, but there is no amount of willpower that could make me reject her.
“I’ll stay,” I respond, silencing the battle in my head telling me I shouldn’t.
Instead of sitting next to her on the edge like before, I move to the other side of the bed so she can stretch her legs back out. Navigating this as appropriately as I can manage, I lay on my back on top of the blankets, hands on my stomach so I don’t accidentally touch her. I feel the mattress shift as her body turns over in the bed, facing me now. I sense her eyes on the side of my face, but I continue staring straight ahead at the ceiling. Not looking at her is the hardest test of my strength, knowing how closely it would put our faces.
“I feel better with you here, with me,” she whispers just loud enough to reach my ears. I can’t help it, I turn my head to look at her. Her eyes are closed, and her face looks peaceful, even though I know she hasn’t fallen asleep yet. She could open her eyes at any second, but I keep looking at her. My hands ache to touch her, brush the hair off of her face, and run my thumb across her cheek to feel how soft it is. But I won’t, I’ll live in this torture if it means she is content and feels safe.
I watch as her breathing slows and each muscle of her face starts relaxing as she falls asleep. I should get up. Go get something productive done, but I don’t. I kick off the boots I just put on, deciding to soak in this feeling that I’m not accustomed to. Peace.
Once I give in and close my eyes, sleep comes quickly. The sound of Callie’s soft breathing next to me is more potent than a damn lullaby.
Chapter Fifteen
Callie
My eyes are closed but I’m cognizant of the thoughts telling me to get up, like an internal alarm clock. My lids creep open against the light coming into the room from the window, making me bury my face deeper into my pillow. I’m confused immediately when my pillow doesn’t feel like my own, and it’s hard… Because it’s not my pillow at all, it’s Nathan’s arm.
I know I wasn’t this close to him when I fell asleep, I must have moved closer subconsciously. He’s in the same position he was in when he first laid down, so it’s definitely my fault. I look up at his face, making sure he is still sleeping and not aware of my unsolicited cuddling, luckily his eyes are closed.
He looks peaceful. His normally serious expression is relaxed. The hard plains of his face almost look soft. I don’t know why I suddenly have the urge to run my fingers across the stubble on his jaw, but I have to physically remove myself from the bed to keep my hands to myself. Every muscle in my body is sore and my joints are stiff, but the pain reliever seemed to have dulled my headache.
Deciding to brush my teeth and do a couple of other things to feel a little more human, I raid the cabinets in the spare bathroom. Finding stuff to tame my hair, I mentally thank Nathan’s sister and mother for leaving this stuff behind. I slip a hair tie on my wrist in case I need it later, but I’m not eager to wear my hair in a ponytail again anytime soon. The feeling of almost having it ripped from my scalp has stayed with me more than the pain of my other injuries.
After splashing cold water on my puffy face, I brace my hands on the counter, looking at myself in the mirror. This version of myself that’s new to me. Changed.
I survived yesterday, so I can get through today, no matter what happens. Unfortunately, I have a feeling talking to strangers about what happened to me is going to rip open all the emotional wounds Nathan has helped me heal so far.
Walking back into the bedroom, I’m startled when I see that he’s sitting up and putting his shoes on, no longer asleep. Suddenly, feeling underdressed in just his t-shirt since I’m not wearing a bra, I throw the hoodie back on that I left on the bedpost.
“Hi,” is all I can think to say, feeling shy.
“Are you feeling any better?” He asks, his deep voice calms me immediately, turning my nerves into butterflies.
“I’m still pretty sore, but I feel okay. Really,” I confirm as he studies me trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or not. I think I might melt under his gaze.
He nods his head, accepting my answer. I stand there awkwardly as he stands up and disappears down the hallway. I feel so lost, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in a situation like this where I feel so helpless. No car, no phone, no money. Do I offer to make him breakfast as a thank you? How do you repay someone when you have nothing?
He acts like and has said he doesn’t expect anything from me. I’d be doomed if he wasn’t so generous. Just as I am thinking that he walks in holding my dirty clothes from yesterday, throwing them into a washing machine that I hadn’t noticed behind another closed door.
“I could have done that,” I tell him, but he gives me that look. The look telling me not to even try arguing with him. So, I don’t.
I wonder if he is always like this, or if it’s a trait he picked up in the Army. Taking care of people, helping people in need, being bossy… I’m starting to feel like he’s not used to anyone arguing with him.
“I’m gonna go ahead and call into the Sheriff’s office again, see what he wants to do. Then we can figure out your car.” His voice breaks me out of my thoughts, “You can check the closet in the spare room and see if my sister left any clothes here. I wouldn’t put it past her to have a stash, but I haven’t been through the drawers in there to check.”
He starts towards the hallway again but turns to look back at me. “You’re also welcome to any of my clothes. They’re probably too big, but you can wear whatever. The stuff you have on now was from when I first enlisted. I was 18 and pretty scrawny then.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, a seemingly nervous gesture, but I think it’s cute.
For the first time, it hits me that I am probably making him nervous by being here. Not because he doesn’t want to help, but because he hasn’t been in a situation like this either. We are both doing our best to navigate this, and that makes me feel comforted somehow. Unless he makes a habit of helping women in the woods… but based on how he’s acting, it’s not likely.
“I’ll see what I can find… Thank you.” I smile at him softly but, genuinely. I feel the need to reassure him somehow. He gives me a curt nod and heads toward the living room. I stand still for a few seconds not sure what to do. I decided to check for clothes in the spare room, hoping that his sister left something comfortable and somewhat in my size.
The room is empty, aside from the small dresser and a couple of boxes. Checking the closet first, I don’t find anything hanging, just some linens folded on the top shelf. The dresser next to it is more successful, housing a pair of women’s socks, black leggings, and a sports bra that will be a size too small but will work for the time being.
The faded pair of jeans in the bottom drawer make me believe that Nathan’s sister is at least a few inches shorter than I am, and a fan of Christmas based on the sweaters folded up in a neat stack. Not wanting to wear a snowman sweater in November, I leave the rest of his sister’s clothes where they are and try my luck in Nathan’s room.
I step into his closet, this one much bigger than the spare room closet. He doesn’t have a ton of clothes, and most everything is a shade of black, green, or navy. I assume I’ll find something that will work, but my curiosity leads me to peek through the dresser that sits off to the side, opposite the hanging clothes.
