Page 47 of Come Back To Me

The majority of my week was a bust. I was late for all my classes, thanks to my lack of sleep, and I was irritated. I couldn’t even blame hormones, but I could however blame the faceless man who’s visits in my dreams became more frequent. I hadn’t been able to see Alex again since our breakfast on Sunday, and it bothered me that I didn’t mind it. He texted, I replied, and then the conversation fizzled. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed my less than friendly disposition. Maddy had resorted to some snarky comments of her own here and there, but I’d become rather good at ignoring my best friend when she said anything I didn’t like. The routine was getting old though, and with every passing day that didn’t seem to improve, I became complacent, accepting that it was nothing more than a ‘bad patch’.

I woke up on Thursday morning feeling like I’d been hit by a bus. My sleepless nights were about to come to a head, I could feel it. Today’s tidal wave of emotional stirrings had a valid reason though, and I wasn’t about to hide from it. It was a month away from the anniversary of my Mom’s death, and while I became emotionally withdrawn every year, today was particularly difficult.

My eyes were puffy, and the longer I stared at my walls, the more the open journal beside me taunted me. I didn’t want to pick it up, and read the words that had poured out of me in the early hours of the morning, but it would appear that I was a glutton for punishment. Because I picked it up and started reading anyway. A pitiful attempt at trying to make sense of something I was starting to realize may have been too big to put together all at once. And so my journal became a puzzle, only this piece was the most frayed, and torn to date…

My pillow was wet, soaked with a fresh round of tears brought on by this day. Like so many others, from when I was nine years old, I stayed in bed, and allowed my mind to work through the tumultuous emotions wreaking havoc with my heart. It was late, and Maddy was sound asleep. Good. I didn’t want her to see me like this again because I’d told her I was fine, that this year wouldn’t be as bad as the ones before. It was a lie, and somehow I just felt more alone than ever.

My door creaked open, but I didn’t care much for whoever was coming in. Although, considering it wasn’t Maddy, I should’ve been more concerned about who it was. But no. It could have been a serial killer, and I wouldn’t have blinked an eye. That required too much energy.

It was only when the scent of wood and fresh soap drifted past my nose that I took notice. My comforter lifted, and the bed dipped behind me, making me roll into a hard, solid chest.

And then the tears started again because he was here, and I really needed him to be here. So much. I turned, and tucked myself against his chest, folding myself into him as if he could hide me from the harshness of my own reality and the sting of what I’d lost when I was eight.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to talk around a wobbling chin. I clutched his shirt in my fists. “Maddy would have seen you, and —”

The gentle timber of his hushed voice cut me off. “Maddy’s the one who called me.”

What? That meant she…

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, making it sound so easy. We were still hiding from our friends and family and it had been a source of contention between the two of us this past week. We’d been fighting a lot, and I hated every single minute of it. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. I lifted my head slightly, and he inched his back so that I could see his eyes. The light streaming in from outside made his green iris’ look like storms, much like the storm I felt we were trying to be brave. “I hate that you’re angry with me. I hate that the last time I saw you, we were fighting.”

His thumbs wiped the tear stains from my cheeks, and he brushed his lips across mine. Something so mundane, and so simple, and yet it had the ability to shut out the entire world existing around us.

“I know you were upset, but I need you to understand something, Kenzi.” I held my breath because the way he said my name… “I will never stop fighting for you. You can get mad, cry or scream if you want to, but you and me? We’re who I’m fighting for. Always.”

My heart thudded against my ribcage, and when I stretched my neck to plant my lips on his, it felt like the most natural response in the world. It wasn’t a heated kiss, but rather a gentle comfort-seeking kiss, and the fact that he didn’t push for me warmed me. He was waiting for me, always allowing me to set the pace, and when he was the one taking the lead he never did it before making sure that I trusted him. What I loved most was that our connection was more than physical. He set my body on fire when we had sex, but it was his words that always seemed to set my soul on fire.

He pulled his fingers through my hair, and then kissed my forehead.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered.

I swallowed, and then settled, if only a little. I was still upset, but at least it wasn’t because of our fight.

“I miss my mom.” My throat was scratchy, making my voice sound hoarse. “I keep thinking about our last Christmas.” He didn’t say anything, but started rubbing my back. His hands trailed down to my thigh, and he pulled my leg over his hip. It wasn’t a sexual thing, it was just the way he liked positioning me. We were as close as we could be. I needed that. “She smelled like cinnamon, ginger and marshmallows. She was already so sick,” my voice hitched. Remembering my Mom was painful, but I wanted to talk to him. No one else. Just him, “but that was the best Christmas we’d ever had. We made gingerbread biscuits together, and hung our favorite ornaments on the tree. She even made us wear those horrible, scratchy matching sweaters for the photos. The boys hated it, but they smiled and did what she asked because I think we all knew she wouldn’t be there for another Christmas.” I stopped talking, and tried to breathe past the ache, but it was so difficult that I started hyperventilating.

“Shit,” he muttered. In one minute he was next to me, and the next he had us upright with me in his lap. “Focus on my breathing,” he wrapped his arms around me, “listen.”

I rested my palm on his chest, and focused on the way his heartbeat reverberated through my palm. It was steady, and strong, and suddenly the rhythm of my heartbeat fell into step with his, proving again that we were so much better together than we were apart.

My eyes burned, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry over something that made sense but also didn’t. I still couldn’t put a face to the man hiding in the pages of my journal, and the more thought I gave it, the more words came. But I was tired, so very tired, and I had to plaster on my brave face for my family. We were having dinner at my Dad’s house to celebrate Connor and Natalie’s baby announcement. Everyone was thrilled, and my Dad even cracked my smile when Aiden and Liam started calling him Pops. I was happy for them, truly, but it also reminded me that life carried on, and no matter how hard we wished things were different, they weren’t.

So I got dressed, did my hair, and my make-up, and planned on faking my way through a night with my family. I wasn’t in the mood, and when I left my bedroom, it was obvious Maddy wasn’t in the mood either. Although, it had nothing to do with my family. But it had everything to do with me.

I was making something to drink when I felt the heat of her eyes between my shoulder blades. I turned, and stared at her over the rim of my glass.

“Your eyes are puffy.” Dammit, I was hoping my make-up did a better job of hiding my exhaustion. “You haven’t been sleeping. You don’t want to eat.” All true. “I’m worried about you, Kenzi.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, finishing my juice. “I’m just tired.”

“Alex is worried about you too.”

That made me frown. Maddy had been putting a lot of pressure on me to tell Alex about my accident, and when I asked her why, she said, “Because he cares about you, and I think you should give him a real chance.”

She didn’t know about my journal, or the nameless, faceless man that lived there and every time I wanted to tell her about him she’d bring Alex into the conversation. I liked him, but something had rooted itself in my gut, and when I got too close to him, I felt myself withdrawing. Maddy knew it too, how I don’t know, but I had a feeling that’s why she was pushing me to give Alex a real shot.

Something was holding me back.