Chapter 17 #2
Kaya approaches me, her heels clicking on the floor of the hospital.
She stands right in front of me, arms folded in front of her chest, her piercing blue eyes narrowed at me.
Her long, blonde hair falls over her chest, and it’s perfect.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with hair as pretty as hers.
“Arlo’s a good man,” she comments.
“He is,” I agree, unsure where she’s going with this.
“That being said, I came here to repay a favor to Noelle. My job was to find you. Now that you’ve been found and rescued, my job here’s done.
I’m leaving tonight, and you’ll likely never see me again.
Should Arlo require my services, he’ll know where to find me.
Just tell him I’m gone. And try not to get yourself kidnapped again, alright?
I’ve no time to rescue you again. The first time was a hassle and more than enough. ”
My mouth drops open at her blunt words. I blink a few times, processing her words.
By the time I realize she was shading me, she’s already gone, walking down the hallway.
Her stride is confident, her posture prim and proper, and I can’t ignore the pang of envy that flicks through my chest. She has to be one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
My attention shifts to a newcomer, and I’m on my feet immediately. The set of teal hospital-provided pants and shirt is the first thing I see, before the face comes into view. Aria looks exhausted, but as soon as our eyes connect, she runs toward me, slumping against me.
Her arms wrap around me tightly, and I return the hug.
“Blair,” she whispers, voice cracking. “Are you okay?”
She pulls back, and I look at her with a soft expression. “Are you okay?”
Aria purses her lips a little, looking like she’d rather talk about anything but the reason that landed her in that set of clothes, because it’s the one patients wear in the psychiatric ward.
“I’ll be released tomorrow.”
“That soon?”
She nods. “I’m not a threat to myself… well, anymore,” she tries to joke, but it’s a poor attempt.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Okay.”
I take a deep intake of breath, taking her hands in mine. She looks physically fine. Her wrists are still wrapped in bandages, and a look of shame crosses her face when she spots me looking at the covered wounds. She looks away, and I know better than to pry and ask uncomfortable questions.
“I won’t ask anything. But I’m here if you need anyone to talk to.”
Aria nods. “Thank you.”
“Is he dead?”
“No.”
A frown tugs on my face, a look of disbelief flashing through. “Excuse me? Arlo and Hudson didn’t immediately jump to dismember, torture, and eventually kill the bastard who drove you to this?”
Aria winces, then pulls me to sit down on the plastic chairs. They’re in the same shade as her clothes, and she almost blends into the chair.
“Well, they wanted to. Like, really, really wanted to. But I managed to persuade them into just banishing him from New York.”
“Why would you settle for that?”
“Because one day, sooner or later, Wyatt will come back. And when he does, I’ll be in a much better place mentally, and I’ll be the one to kill him, Blair. He ruined my life. I’ll ruin his.”
Her words ooze with determination, a confident gleam in her pretty eyes.
The logic is flawed, to say the least, but if that’s what’s forcing her to focus on herself, her growth, and taking care of her mental health, I won’t burst her bubble.
Because if the man has a singular brain cell, he’ll never return to New York.
Then again, I doubt men like him have a working brain cell.
“Okay,” I offer a small smile, and she returns it, though there’s lingering sadness in her eyes.
“Do you think Mom will be okay?”
Her words are barely above a whisper, eyes swelling with unshed tears.
I swallow thickly a knot that forms in my throat and take a deep breath, intertwining my fingers with hers.
I’m silent for a few moments, debating how to approach this subject carefully, without risking her mental health declining further.
“I think that she’s surrounded by the best doctors possible, and Hudson will do everything in his power to save her. However, I don’t know if that will be enough. From what I’ve overheard while being in this hall with Kaya, the nurses are optimistic she’ll wake up soon.”
“What am I supposed to do if she doesn’t?
” Aria whispers, looking at her lap. Her hands tremble, her fingers loosening around mine.
“She found me, Blair. She was the one that saw the bathtub filled with my blood. And I never got to apologize to her. I didn’t get to say goodbye.
I’m just starting to realize how selfish that was of me.
Tears fall down her face, dropping onto her lap. I brush them away with my thumbs, tilting her chin upward to force her to look at me. I soften my gaze, unable to hide how the regret in her eyes is starting to affect me.
“It wasn’t selfish, Aria,” I murmur. “You saw no way out and did what you thought was best. I’m so fucking happy you’re still with us, and I’ll never let you do that again, but it wasn’t selfish.
Yes, the people around you were inevitably hurt by your attempt, but you were hurting, too.
What matters now is that you’re working on improving your mental health, and you’ll have Arlo and me with you every step of the way.
And no matter what happens to Noelle, you need to know that she didn’t blame you, not even for a second.
I might not have been there when it happened, but I know her enough to know that she would never blame you. ”
A choked sob slips from Aria’s lips, and she pulls me into another hug, crying her soul out on my shoulder. I stroke her back softly, playing with her hair in the process, and hold her tightly against me.
The fierce, loud, outspoken teenager is so vulnerable in my arms right now, and she trusts me enough to show me all of it. I kiss the top of her head, and that provokes another wave of tears from her. Her body trembles against mine, and she seems so… small.
“You’ll be okay,” I whisper. “You’ll be alright.”
For a moment, I don’t know who I’m talking to — Aria or myself. Because the memories of the past four months start resurfacing, and the deeper ones, the ones I wanted to stay buried forever, start making an appearance. The things they did to me, the things they ripped away from me.
I’m not qualified to console anyone, not when I’m constantly being dragged back into the personal hell Paul Simmons has made for me. Not when I’m still not sure if I’ll make it out of this fiasco alive, and certainly not when I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to heal.
Because sometimes, the pain and the darkness are too great for a human to bear.
Aria pulls back, wiping her tears, and that breaks the train of thoughts. She sniffs a little, then takes a deep intake of breath, looking at me through glossy eyes.
“If you tell anyone I cried, I will kill you.”
There she is.
The thinly veiled threat is filled with amusement, her eyes shining, lips pulling into a wicked smirk. Just looking at her now makes me realize how physically similar Arlo and Aria are; they could pass off as twins.
“Alright, alright, I get it.”
“Are Arlo and Dad inside?”
I nod, and she sighs, standing up.
“I’ll go see Mom.”
“Okay.”
She pauses, lifting a brow. “Are you coming?”
I blink. “Uh, why?”
“She’d want you in there, too.”