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The relief on everyone’s faces as I walked back upstairs and unpacked my things. The tears of relief falling down Lilah’s face once I told her this is home.
But a few things needed to change.
I could no longer stay in the clubhouse. As much safety as it provided me, now that Santiago was out of the picture, I felt like I needed a little space. More than that, I couldn’t live in a one bedroom, one bed place anymore. I needed some space… and privacy. Everywhere I looked one of the guys was staring at me over my shoulder, the looks of pity pulling their lips down and a crease between their eyes.
The walls were closing in, and I couldn’t breathe.
I don’t want this to be a place that I hate, so I needed to take a step away and get my own place. Lynx was the first to bring up that I should take Aziel’s place. It’s sitting empty, gathering dust, and growing cold with memories. There was already a spare bedroom, and with a little personalization, it became Lilah’s room. I haven’t changed a thing in Aziel’s room. I don’t want to. I want it to be what it is, keep Aziel’s things untouched and unmoved.
I want the memories to remain undisturbed and maybe, wishfully, he would return to me.
The walk is silent as I wander through the snow-covered woods, the white covered pine trees glistening as the sun shines off of them. The smell of pine and fresh air linger around me and follow me all the way down the road and into the house. Arriving here the other week was like a slap in the face. It was only empty about a month, but the cold memories made it feel like a century old house, abandoned and forgotten.
I rub my hands as I walk up to the thermostat. Cranking it up a few notches, I unzip my coat and walk towards the bathroom. Memories hit me in the face as I remember the first time I was here, when Aziel took me up against the shower wall. How my internal walls cracked and split wide, allowing him in. It took so long, a half decade of building steel walls and numbing myself to all feelings, and it barely took Aziel a blink of an eye to destroy those walls. Obliterate them.
Why did he have to leave me?
I strip myself of my clothes and open the curtain, wincing as the hooks scrape against the curtain rod in a sharp squeak. Stepping inside the shower, I turn it on to just below boiling and let the spray pelt my back. Lilah dragged me out of the house early this morning, eager to get to the clubhouse so she could play in the freshly fallen snow. I easily conceded, feeling a little melancholy today and not in the mood for a temper tantrum.
I squirt some lavender body wash on my palm and set the bottle next to Aziel’s soap bottle. Pain strikes me directly in the heart. Everyone in the clubhouse seems to have moved on, at least to a degree. Not that they don’t miss him. They do. They are nowhere near appointing a new VP. His dad drinks more than he used to. The guys try to hide their looks of despair, but it’s clear to me, the one who feels the loss like a bullet to the heart.
I stand under the spray until the water runs cold, then step out and grab the towel hanging near Aziel’s, wrapping it around my body and securing it underneath my arm. I press my palm again the foggy mirror and wipe away the condensation. The face that stares back at me is one that has seen and lived a thousand lives.
My blonde wavy hair hangs in wet locks down my back, dropping to my waist. My blue eyes have dulled from years of torment and stress, fading to a dull gray. My cheekbones are slender and sharp, pointing towards the cupid bowed lips that are always a shade too pink.
My life feels lost, but I also feel found.
A piece of my heart and soul died in Mexico when Aziel died, but a piece of my heart and soul was found in Mexico when Aziel found me. I’ve traded a piece of happiness for a piece of sadness. A barter, I suppose.
I’ll thrive in this new world, because I have to. For me. For Lilah. For Aziel.
He didn’t die without purpose,is a moto I have to repeat in my head every day.
My ears perk when I hear the front porch squeak and groan. It’s an old house with an old porch. The boards have been known to protest at the slightest weight or from the howling wind.
It could be a squirrel, raccoon, or even a bear.
I shiver.
When the sound doesn’t come again, I slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Walking to the old oak dresser, I pull out some black leggings and one of Aziel’s black hoodies. I slip them on quickly, ready to get back to Lilah.
Her attitude has been absolutely dreadful lately.
The porch groans again, this time it sounds like one of the chairs out front gets bumped, sliding across the porch in an awkward protest.
My face grows hot in worry.
The guys wanted to teach me some self-defense, but I haven’t found the time. Now I feel stupid for putting it off.
What if Santiago got away?
I walk over to Aziel’s nightstand, pulling it open and picking up an ancient, large, jagged knife that’s tip has been broken off.
My breathe comes out in uneven puffs as I press my toes to the floor, walking as quietly as possible towards the front.
Where’s my phone?
I mentally walk through where I had it last. I haven’t had a phone in over five years, it feels so unnatural to have one again.
