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“Alphabetizing your books,” she mumbles, still not looking at me. Suddenly, she glances at the closet. “I’ll work on that next.” I step in front of her, and she tips her head back to look up at me.
“Maybe you should rest, baby,” I say gently, but she shakes her head.
“Tired of lying in bed.” She goes back to pulling books off the shelf. “I need to do something. And your room needs to be fixed. It’s awful.”
“I wouldn’t say awful,” I mumble, looking around. It’s a bit messy, but in my defense, I’ve had more important shit to worry about than cleaning.
Sighing, I sit beside her on the floor and help her take the books off, stacking them between us. I can tell she doesn’t know what to say or do with me here, but I’m not leaving her alone. And I’m not letting her organize my life by herself, either. It’s not her responsibility, it’s mine.
“You don’t have to help.”
“I know.”
“So, why are you?” I can feel the strain it’s taking her to not look at me, to keep her focus solely on the books.
“Because I want to.”
Her hands falter, a book nearly slipping from her fingertips. She catches it at the last second, setting it carefully at the top of the stack. Those words grabbed her attention more than I thought they would, and she slowly looks at me.
“Because you want to? No one wants to clean and organize,” she says, her lips pressing together.
“You do.” I shrug and grab another book.
“But—but I always clean and Iss—” She cuts herself off, her entire body going so taut, it looks like she’s about to snap. I clench my jaw at the words, at her reaction to almost saying his name. “No one ever helped before.”
“Because no one was a fucking asshole and only cares about himself,” I growl. “I should’ve taken you out of that house years ago.” She shakes her head, tears filling her eyes.
“Not your fault,” she breathes, wiping at her cheeks. “You had to go.”
“I shouldn’t have gone without you.”
God, I hate myself. Why didn’t I just fight a little harder? Stay a little longer? Knock on her window that night instead of just standing in the rain and waiting? I should’ve gotten to my knees and begged her to run away with me.
I should’ve done more.
But I didn’t.
I left her there, to tether herself to the monster. I left her, knowing he’d sink his claws into her and never let her go.
Even if after I left I was in a bad place, I should’ve gone back. Once I was on my feet and living my life, I should’ve gone back for her. I should’ve talked to her like Chase did. I should’ve done more for her.
Her cool hand slides onto mine, and I blink, pulling myself out of my spiral. Not right now. I can hate myself later, but not in front of her. She needs me to be strong.
Resting my hand over hers, I give it a gentle squeeze before turning my attention back to the bookshelf. “So,” I breathe, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of books. “What’s the plan?”
She stares at me, her eyes boring into the side of my head. I don’t know what to say, what to tell her. She needs peace right now, not to hash out our past. And does it even matter? There are years between us and the kids we were back then.
With a deep breath, she slips her hand out from under mine and turns back to the books. “Take them all out, then alphabetize them.”
“You know it won’t last,” I mutter, flashing her a grin when she glares at me.
“I’ll keep the system in check.” I smile wider, shaking my head.
“Or you can let me live in chaos in peace.”
“You know I can’t do that,” she murmurs.
“Fine, but don’t touch my books by the bed,” I say, and she lets out a long dramatic sigh.
