AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here,” I turn around, relishing the harshness in my voice. “What you think you’re doing. If this is supposed to be some sort of twisted game for you, or a psychotic guilt trip, or whatever…”
My voice stalls, waiting for her to interrupt me. To protest. To blow up in anger.
Neither of these things happen. She just stands there like a statue, waiting me out. Nice try, making me feel like a monster. But we both know who the monster is in this room. And it’s not me.
“I don’t know if you’re trying to mess with my mind and sabotage my life again like you did back then,” I go on, “but listen. This isn’t going to work now, ok? I’m not a kid anymore. No matter how much you may hate me, you can’t–”
I stop. She’s gone completely white. Instinctively, I reach out an arm to grab her, because her face is without an ounce of color, and I think she’s about to go down. But just as I’m about to I touch her, she flinches so hard, she nearly loses her footing.
My breath hitches and I quickly remove my hand.
Is that terror in her eyes? Did she think I’d hurt her or something? That’s not her; she never once feared me. Never. I don’t care if this girl is Eden or not. I find myself talking to the Eden of four years ago, to my Eden. To that thin wisp of a girl with the long, black hair, the girl I would have murdered anyone who so much as looked at wrong.
“Has someone hurt you?” I blurt out. Her eyes go down, avoiding my gaze. “Why did you just flinch? I’m not going to touch—” she’s gone even paler, looking away from me. “Eden?” I blurt out in a panic, trying to get her to look at me.
Eden’s name tastes strange on my lips after all this time. Bitter. Sour.
It tastes like memories.
It tastes like grief.
Is this you? Is this you, Eden? Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me it’s a mistake and I’ve just made a complete ass of myself. Tell me I’m wrong.
“Has anyone raised a hand against you, Eden? A finger?” A sudden, overwhelming urge to annihilate whoever made her fear sudden movements and flinch like that seizes me so hard it almost knocks me off my feet. It’s hard to breathe. My chest is too small for my lungs. I lower my voice. “In the years since I last saw you, has someone hurt you? Do I need to murder someone? Answer me,” I whisper intensely.
She opens her mouth to answer, and a gasp comes out, as if she too is finding it hard to breathe.
“Tell me,” I insist, my voice barely a whisper. My body is tight and buzzing with a wave of protectiveness so fierce it steals my breath. I forget everything except the image of how she flinched and thought I would hurt her. “Please,” I murmur, “tell me.” My eyes are glued to hers, absolutely magnetized.
And then, she replies in a voice so low I think I imagined it:
“Yes.”
Suddenly, Jude is there, gently taking her arm and leading her out of the room. He glances at me sharply, his eyes wide with an unreadable message. I can’t even begin to decipher it—and I don’t want to. I’m frozen in place. With that one word, ‘yes,’ she confirmed everything.
It’s her. It’s Eden.
A minute ago I was shaking with rage at her, and now? I’m frozen in shock.
Then in a second, I’m shaking again with barely-controlled fury against whoever hurt her. And at her. How dare she come back into my life and stand here, in this room, and whisper ‘yes’? And tear my soul into a million shreds? How dare she?
I shake my head. Whatever idiotic need to protect and save her has taken hold of me was just that: insanity. I’ll get over it. But she can’t stay here a second longer. This little drama scene made it clear. I’m calling Spencer as soon as she’s out of earshot.
Actually, no. I grab my phone and start dialing before Jude has shepherded her out the door. I want her to hear me firing her.
“Spence?” I say into the phone, and she falters, missing a step at the door of my room.
Jude grabs her by the waist to steady her.
I lower my phone, suddenly seized by an anger so deep it’s primal. Spencer wasn’t answering anyway, I was just pretending to talk to him.
I’m such a loser.
And she is out of here. Especially if Jude’s hands are already stealing around her waist. No no no no no. This is a whole other level of messed up and I am not here for it.
…
The day bores on, and nothing goes the way it’s supposed to.
