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“Don’t worry about locking the door. No one comes this way, and I have an alarm system.” Yeah, that worked at keeping me out real fucking well, I think but don’t say.
I stare at her back for long minutes before I make my decision. I turn, close her bedroom door, and walk down the hall past the mess and the clutter. I look in her kitchen, checking the fridge, then the cabinets, before I get in my truck and drive off.
29 COME DOWN
NOW
STELLA
I listen intently, curled into myself, as I hear his boots leave my house, his truck backing down my driveway. I listen as Riggins does exactly what I requested of him, leaving me be. With everything happening, all of the raked-up emotions and memories, this episode has been rougher than usual, and I’m not even sure if I have any tears left to cry. It’s not fair to be disappointed and hurt that he actually left when I told him to, but a small childish part of me hoped he wouldn’t have.
What might be minutes or hours later, though, I think I’m hallucinating when I hear the low rumble of a truck driving down my drive again. I don’t move, convincing myself it’s just the mail truck driving a package to my front door or someone getting turned around and using my driveway as a U-turn.
But the sound of the engine cuts out, and a door slams. When the front door creaks open, the jingle of dog tags and Riggins’ voice travels through the living room into where I lay.
“Come on, girl. Let’s go find her.”
My bedroom door opens again, and something wet brushes my cheek.
It isn’t tears, not this time.
It’s Gracie’s nose on my cheek, nudging and whining.
“Take care of her, girl. I’ll be back,” he says, not speaking to me but the dog who settles in the spot my curved body makes, her head propped on my hip.
“Riggs?” I ask, not looking at the door where, somehow, I know he’s standing.
“She’s gonna keep you company, little star. Rest. I’ll be back,” he says, his voice low and sweet.
“Riggins—” I start, but then my bedroom door is closed. Gracie’s face turns to me, her knowing eyes reading my soul before she moves, cozying up closer to me. Looping my arm around her, I snuggle my dog and fall back asleep.
“Stell,” the voice whispers, pulling me from sleep. “Stell, sweetheart.” It’s Riggins' voice swimming in my dreams and waking me, and the soothing touch on my forehead is him as well.
“Riggins?” I ask, my voice croaky.
“I’m here, baby. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll make your bed, then you can come back.”
“What?”
“Tub,” is all he says. Gracie moves as he does, jumping to the floor. I sit up, squinting around the room, noticing it’s at least dusk now, the room darker, and Riggs’ hand is out, offering for me to grab it. When I look up at him, his face is kind and understanding, devoid of judgment.
So, for some reason, I take it.
I let him help me out of my bed, let him hold my hand as he walks me out of my room, like he’s afraid I’ll fall or run if he lets go.
“I’m okay, Riggins. Really. I’m… I’m coming out of it. You don’t have to stay here,” I tell him. I’m not lying—I do feel myself slowly digging out from it, swimming to the surface. There’s sun glittering beneath, and in a few days, I’ll be back to my fucked sense of ‘normal.’
In the hall, the clothes are cleaned up, and I can hear the dryer running in the mudroom behind the kitchen.
“I know I don’t have to,” is all he replies as we move toward my bathroom.
When we reach it, I notice it’s clean—not immaculate, not like a professional had some hand in it, but it looks like Riggins has wiped down the surfaces and gathered all the dirty laundry.
For a moment, I wait for the shame to hit me, for the embarrassment as it starts to fully click what has been happening here, what Riggs has been doing while I slept with Gracie, but that tired ache still living in my bones doesn’t allow for me to expel the extra energy.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asks.”While you get in?” My brow furrows as I try to understand what he means, what he’s saying. That’s when I notice the warm, steaming bathtub, small bubbles dotted along the surface of the water.
He ran me a tub, the smell of the lavender bubble bath I’ve used since I was a kid, even though it’s probably horrible for my skin and the world, filling the room.
