Tamed By You (Always & Forever #2)

52. Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Two

Ali

The warm water beats down on me, the droplets running down my body, washing away the nightmares. It’s been just over two weeks since my accidental overdose, just over two weeks when I had to come clean to everyone I love, that the man who stole my innocence and ripped my world apart was up for parole. Due to good behavior, his sentence could be cut short, and I was invited to give an impact statement to tell a panel of strangers my story about how it would affect me if he were to be released. But how do you even begin to explain that to someone when you don’t even know yourself? It's something I haven’t wanted nor allowed myself to think about. The day a guilty verdict was read I sagged with relief that one of the people who had caused me so much pain was unable to hurt me again.

Wrapping my arms around my slight frame, I hug myself, my fingertips landing in between the dips of my rib cage and I wince at the feel. I’ve lost weight, I know I have, but the past few days I have managed some small meals. I had managed my first night's sleep without waking in a pool of my own sweat and today, I managed an entire shower without sitting in the tray, unable to stand. Small steps lead to bigger ones, and I just need to take it day by day.

I shut off the water, reaching for my white bath towel. Wrapping the soft cloth around my body. I walk across the bathroom and swipe a hand across the steamed-up mirror to stare at my reflection. The dark circles are beginning to fade, my hollow cheeks have begun to fill out slightly and the light in my eyes is returning a little. I decide today is the day I do some skincare, brush my hair, and wear something that isn’t sweatpants.

I’ve been on this journey before, pulled myself out of that black hole that felt like it had no end, and it took time, but I did it once so I can do it again. But this time, I have a band of people behind me, cheering me on every step of the way. I reach for my day cream, closing my eyes as I glide the silky liquid over my face, enjoying the cool sensation that tingles over my skin. Next, I comb my hair, taking the dryer, brushing through the strands as the hot heat blasts my blonde locks that hadn’t seen a proper wash in a week until today, and with every stroke I feel slightly more alive—a little more me.

I head out of my bathroom and go to my closet, pulling out my favorite lilac yoga pants and matching crop top, tugging an overside cream cardigan to wrap around me, still a little conscious of how frail my body is looking. I hear the sound of the blender going, silently chuckling, knowing what I will be met with when I reach the kitchen.

I make my way out of my room, the grinding sound of the blender getting louder with every step. I find Gabby in the kitchen, her back to me, wearing tight black yoga shorts and a matching crop top, framing her killer curves.

Damn, I really should start doing Pilates with her.

I tug at my cardigan, protectively wrapping it around me. She stops the blender, turning to face me, a jug of something green in her hand.

“Morning. You look beautiful.” She beams.

I feel anything but beautiful, but I’m thankful for her compliment. A small wave of sadness washes over me. What if I never feel the way I did again? What if I have really lost myself this time?

I give my head a little shake, determined today will be a more positive day. Today I will leave the apartment. Ria called the HR department at my job. She explained I had some personal issues and needed to take a leave of absence and they were so understanding. It’s one less thing for me to worry about while I focus on getting through this hearing.

“Morning,” I say softly.

“How did you sleep?” she asks, pouring the green juice into three glasses.

“Yeah, better thanks. Why three glasses?”

She points towards the couch, and I turn. How did I miss him? There lays a sleeping Harry and my heart melts. He stayed, again. The past two weeks, he has stayed at least seven or eight times on my couch. No matter how many times I tell him I’m okay, he insists. But last night I know he was working late at the club and must have come in using the key I gave him.

“Ugh, this bottom part is still lumpy,” Gabby groans, shaking the jug. She places it back on the blender stand, pressing the button and whirling it to life. I watch as Harry’s body jolts and a little chuckle escapes me. He sits upright, staring daggers at the back of Gabby’s head. Turning his head towards me, his face softens into a megawatt smile, and I return it with my own. He gets up from the couch and an old feeling, a little flutter deep in my core, stirs at the sight of his exposed ripped abs and tattooed chest.

“Morning, Ali Cat. Did you sleep okay?” he shouts over the sound of the blender running a hand through his messy morning hair. Another flutter stirs in my core at the sound of the nickname.

“Good,” I shout back.

The blender stops and he glares at Gabby once again. “Is she always like this in the mornings?”

“I’m afraid so,” I confirm. “She is a get up go-getter is our Gabby.”

She smiles when she sees us both together, her big brown eyes widening with what looks like joy. “Good morning. I’ve made us green smoothies, packed with vitamins and a matcha tea to really get us going.”

“Huh, match-what?” Harry asks, his face contorting in confusion.

“Matcha,” she repeats. “It’s all-natural. It’s very good for you.”

We both sit at the stools next to the island as Gabby pours the rest of the juice into the glasses and slides us each a green juice and then a mug of matcha tea.

Harry's face screws up in disgust. “Why is everything green?”

“Did you know that juice alone can actually help your gut health and your digestion and stabilize your blood sugars for far longer than your go-to cereals?” Gabby says pointing to the glass, encouraging him to drink it.

Harry stares at her, wide-eyed. “Fascinating.”

I press my lips together, suppressing a laugh. Gabby is in fun fact mode.

“So, it will be good for your gut. Drink up.”

“Me and my gut would disagree. Thank you.”

“Well, you are going to need your energy. I was thinking we would go on a very light jog this morning. Get you out in the fresh air,” she says excitedly looking at me. “And then we can do some Pilates before we see Ria.”

“Sounds great, Gabs,” I say, grateful for all the effort she is going to help me heal.

She starts jogging on the spot excitedly, her long, dark ponytail swaying side to side. “Great, because it’s good to get those steps in first thing. Really gets the metabolism going. I’ll go get ready and we’ll leave in ten?”

I nod and give her a thumbs up, taking another sip of my Juice.

She claps in delight. “Let’s go, team,” she cheers, jogging backward until she’s out of sight down the hall.

“The woman’s a walking encyclopedia and has far too much energy. Who is that peppy first thing in the morning? I need whatever she’s having.”

I lift the glass, “I think it’s the juice,” I joke, and his face contorts again. “Now’s the time to save yourself,” I whisper.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He jumps off the stool, jogging over to the couch, throwing on his black sweater, slipping on his white sneakers, and picking up his overnight bag.

I get up and head over to our apartment door.

“Thank you for staying over, you… you didn’t need to, you know,” I mumble, awkwardly wrapping my arms once again around my waist.

“Hey, it’s never any trouble. I like being here, you know, in case you need… me.”

I always need you , is what I want to say, but all I manage is, “Thank you.”

We stand there, locked eyes, silent, just staring. I want him to hold me, kiss me, but I know he won’t, even if he wants to. He said I am in control; I am in the driver’s seat, and he’s been a man true to his word. Not once has he tried to push past the limits that I am comfortable with. We are going at my pace, but god do I miss the old us, the way we would bounce off one another, the laughter, the affection. I am now battling with my heart, my head and my fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of being unwanted.

Don’t let the fear win.

“I better go before Miss Motivator comes back and drags my sorry ass on her marathon.”

I laugh a real belly laugh. A sound I haven’t heard in what feels like forever. This is what he does. This is how he makes me feel. He brings out a side of me that I thought I had lost. I am starting to realize that I fought him for so long because he scared me; he made me feel a type of way no one else has. I like who I am when I am around him. I’m happy. A pang of sadness hits me as he reaches for the door handle. I don’t want him to leave.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” he says as smiles down at me.

“I’ll, umm call you later.” It comes out more of a question than a statement, but he nods.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He leans in as if he were going to kiss me and I freeze. Not from fear, not nerves, I’m not sure why. Maybe surprise. He goes for my cheek, but then I move we narrowly miss each other’s mouths.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” I hiss, taking his face in my hands, I press my mouth to his. It lasts for just a few seconds, but in those few seconds, it felt like the world stopped. A fire that had long been blown out now reignited in my belly. I break the kiss, still embracing his face in my hands. He stands wide eyed, with what I hope is a good reaction. A familiar grin spreads across his face, and I smile back, stroking the pads of thumbs across his jawline, loving how his stubble feels under my skin.

He clears his throat as I drop my hands, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed at my actions.

“I um, better go.”

“Bye.” I smile the biggest, most genuine smile I have had in weeks.

He winks as he walks through the door. Warmth spreads across my body, and it feels good. I don’t feel hollow and empty, I finally feel a little of the old me come back and god does it feel good.

I bend over, bracing my hands on my knees, chest heaving as I stop to catch my breath in the middle of a bustling sidewalk in New York. “Gabs, I don’t think I can go any further,” I pant, gasping for my next breath.

“Yes, you can. Just a little more to go. Maybe another mile and we are done,” she says, barely breaking a sweat as she jogs on the spot.

“Babe, I’m 5ft 3 and I can barely run the length of myself let alone a mile. I think you need to lower your expectations.”

“Come on, we can do this. Ria is meeting us at our coffee spot.”

“Lucky bitch gets out of this godforsaken run,” I huff, leaning up and stretching my back.

“Hey, I’m not arguing with a pregnant woman, but after this run and the Pilate class you will be thanking me later, let's go.”

We jog slowly, side by side as I pant, “We’ll see about that.”

Six hours later, what was meant to be a three-mile jog turned into a power walk, followed by a coffee with Ria and then the Pilates class from hell where I was told to pose, hold, and bend my body in ways the human body wasn’t made to. I am exhausted. But even though I hate admitting when I am wrong, I do feel good. The best I’ve felt since the day I got the letter.

We both showered, threw on our sweats, and ordered Thai food from our favorite takeout. Candles lit, our thick fall blankets out, it feels nice and cozy in our apartment as the September evening starts drawing in a little. A dark cloud has covered New York, and the smell of rain is in the air. I find rain oddly soothing. I find peace in it, which is likely why my go to safe space is the shower. For me, it’s a place where my untamed soul can be cleansed, a place where no one could tell if I was crying, a place where I come out of it feeling lighter, a little freer. The rain, just like my showers, washes away any dirt or impurities, it sets everything to right because after rain comes clear skies, and sometimes with it, a rainbow.

Gabby’s phone buzzes on the coffee table as we tuck into our Thai food whilst watching re-runs of Sex and the City .

“Who’s that?” I ask, eyeing her curiously, noticing how quickly she jumped to get the phone.

“Oh, erm Patrick,” she answers vaguely, placing it face down on the couch and tucking back into her food.

“What did he want?” I ask, in between bites of my curry.

“He just wanted to invite me over, but I’ll see him another time.”

I drop my fork into my bowl, realization hitting me. She, like all our friends, has been putting their lives on hold to hold me up. Guilt hits me in the gut. I can’t allow this anymore.

“Go, go see him.”

She turns to face me. “No, no, we are having a girls’ night. I’ll see him another night. I’m not leaving you.”

“Gabs, I’ll be fine. I have to be alone at some point. Please, go see him. You haven’t seen him in ages.”

She stares at me, conflict evident in her eyes. I know she wants to go, but I know she also wants to stay here with me, scared I won’t cope.

“Please, if I need you, I will call you. I swear.” She eyes me suspiciously. “Scout's honor,” I mock, putting my fingers to the side of my head to salute her and she chuckles.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go, please. I will be fine here with my Thai food and Sarah Jessica Parker.”

She places her empty bowl on the table. “Promise me you will call. I won’t stay out. I’ll be a few hours and I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be fine. Take as long as you want.”

She presses a kiss to my head and jumps up. Throwing on her jean jacket and taking her key and phone, she reconfirms she won’t be long, and she leaves.

And suddenly I’m alone. I finish my curry and busy myself with washing the dishes, jumping in fright when a loud clap of thunder echoes through my apartment, followed by the hammering of rain on the glass.

I return to the couch, wrapping the fleece blanket around me, wincing a little at another boom of thunder. Suddenly I’m very aware I am alone, fear creeping in, seeping into my skin, flooding my body. I have the urge to flee, to find comfort in something, or someone. A strong need to rid my body of this suffocating feeling, a feeling that I would usually ease with unhealthy coping skills.

I always used to think it was weak to want someone, to need them, to rely on them but I’m slowly learning there is a strength in handing over the most vulnerable parts of yourself to someone, to trust someone with those parts of you. Words I was told when I was spiraling so fast, I feared I could never come back.

I close my eyes, listening to the pattering of rain against my window, tossing my phone between my hands, battling with my head and heart. Wishing more than anything I felt brave enough to tell him that right now, in this moment, not only do I want him, but I need him.