Chapter 12 - Nova
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Warm water rushes like thunder from the shower head, and I'm transfixed by it, just staring.
Warm water.
I could even make it hot water if I wanted to but the temperature feels nice against my palm. How can something so simple, actually be so incredibly complicated? I turn on the tap and there is warm water. The end.
That was my life forever until it wasn't. For five years I turned on the tap and the water was cold. It never got hot, it never held pressure. It was there and I was grateful but I never took the time to think about all the things that go into creating hot water. It's just what happened when you turned on the tap.
Staring at the water beating down against the tiled stall, it hits me that life kept moving while I was gone. Constantly propelling forward while I was stuck underground. Moving, changing, and shifting everything around us while I remained stagnant.
Why didn't my family report me as missing?
Why didn't my school?
My friends?
Anyone?
I stayed trapped in a time capsule while everyone forgot about me and just kept living.
Everything that happened to me ... everything he did.
No one was ever going to come for me.
My knees slam against the tile as I crumble to the floor, the warm spray of the water smashing against my skin in a fevered torrent. Each drop washing away the pain of my past and reminding me how alone I am in my future.
Why did I even escape if all I've come out to is more pain and misery?
A sob escapes me, and then another, until my wails echo around the small space. My body violently shaking as the water hits me like a sudden deluge. The clothes, rags, I'm wearing saturate in seconds, clinging to my body like a second skin. My breaths are short and sharp, streams of water coming off me, swirling down the drain like a river of crimson as the blood washes away.
I'm lost to the pain until I'm wrapped tightly in strong arms, struggling until Ace's voice calmly says, “I have you darlin'. Don't ever be afraid to let it out. I'll keep you safe. Just let what you can out right now and don't worry about what's yet to come.”
He sits on the shower floor and I'm cradled in his arms, sobbing, weeping, grieving, everything that was keeping me afloat these past years. His hand gently rubs my back while the other wraps around my hips, keeping me pressed tightly against him. I cling onto his soaked t-shirt, clawing and anchoring myself to him as I press my face into his chest, half screaming, half sobbing, until I think that's all the tears I have to spill. And then I start again. The purging of pain and terror trying to escape my body in a cascade of emotion. The water beats against us, remaining steady and warm. A constant reminder of how my life is about to change all over again.
I'm not sure how long we sit there, but the water runs clear, despite the clothes were both wearing. Not a spec of blood remains on anything. Uncurling myself, I sit up slightly as he keeps his arms firmly around me.
“I think ... I think I feel a bit better now,”
I say timidly, as the warm water continues to fall.
His expression is open, warm, and inviting. Much like Martha’s but completely different at the same time. The simple nod he gives all the conversation we need to have about what just happened.
“Thank you,”
I whisper. Such a small word that contains so much meaning to me.
Thank you for stopping in the forest.
Thank you for believing me.
Thank you for not pushing me.
Thank you for listening to me.
Thank you for holding me while I fall apart.
I motion to stand, trying to navigate how I get off him without slipping on the tile, when he moves us effortlessly, like I weigh nothing at all, letting me go when he places me down in front of him. Adjusting the shower head, it hits my shoulder blades, keeping me warm but stopping the torrent from hitting my face.
“I’ll leave you to get changed, but Martha is outside. I'll be back in a second once I've grabbed my other bag from the truck.”
Taking my hand he gives it a squeeze before walking to the bathroom door, pausing as I call out his name.
“Ace ... I think I’d like to go see my family.”
Distrust flickers across his face and I know deep down I shouldn't want to. They didn't look for me.
They didn't want to find me.
“I just need to know ... need to be sure.”
He nods at my explanation. Accepting the situation, his brow furrows as he takes a towel from the rack and holds it under the hand dryer before putting it on the vanity, mumbling, “It’s nicer warmed,”
and moves to leave.
“The door ... I locked it?”
I question. Knowing that I would never leave a door unlocked if I had the option.
The water still dripping from his clothes, he stops in the doorway, his head dipped slightly and I hear the creak of the wooden door under the strain of his grip. His body still facing away from me, his face half in shadows as he turns his head, just enough so his profile is revealed.
“I picked it, darlin'. I wasn’t going to let a door stop me from holding you.”
My heart stills while I process his words. He must have heard me from the hallway. But before I could ask him anything else the soft click of the door latch cuts the lingering silence between us.
Removing my water logged clothes, I place them all unceremoniously in the bin. Relieved in being able to shed a small reminder of everything that happened. However, the jumper Ace lent me earlier, I ring out, taking my time to ensure it’s clean before folding it nicely. It’s still wet, but ready to take with me as I surround my body in the oversized clothes he had in his bag. They are soft and comforting, and they smell like him. It takes the edge off my anxiety feeling him wrapped around me like this, that even if he's not physically here, he's still with me. Connecting me to him. Leaving both my breath and heart lighter when I wear them.