Chapter 31
Vincent
I’m back on my feet.
I’m still a little lightheaded when I stand too fast or bend too far, but I’m movin’ again. My stomach’s calm. Hands, steady.
I got work to do.
Ari’s already up when I get back from my second trip to the stream. She got all my wet clothes hanging on a line she made out of bamboo. I don’t ask how she washed them, cuz I don’t wanna think about what she saw, but I appreciate it.
She got her hair pulled up on top of her head. It’s messy, but also cute on her.
“Thank you for doin’ that,” I say.
She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles. “It was nothing. I had a little time on my hands.”
That gets a chuckle out of me.
“Aye, what’d you eat last night?” I say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get some fish for you.”
She shrugs. “You were sick. It was fine. I had the rest of those macarons.”
I nod. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking drinking that water.”
“You weren’t thinking. You were delirious.” Her tone is soft and firm, no judgment. “Think what would have happened if you didn’t. We both would have been sick. And probably dead.”
“Silver lining,” I say, nodding. “I fucks wit it.”
She laughs.
“Either way, I appreciate you taking care of me.”
She looks up from her line, her eyes shining bright in the sunlight. “You know, you said some things when you were delirious.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smiles. “Begging me not to leave you and all that.”
I stare at her. “And?”
“Did you know you said that?”
“I know exactly what I said.” I watch her face fall. I don’t think she’s bothered by it, I think she’s just surprised I’m not trying to walk it back.
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean. Sick or not.”
Something flickers over her face, softening it, then her arms drop to her side. She comes to me, staring up at my face.
“I had a hard time sleeping without you,” she says. “At home, I love sleeping alone. I prefer it. But here…” she trails off, biting at her bottom lip. “It’s different here.”
“It’s different with me,” I correct.
“Yeah, but it’s more than that.” She stares past me, her eyes dreamy. “It’s quiet here. Back home, the noise is always loud enough to drown out the quiet. But here, that’s all there is. And it’s too quiet when you’re not next to me.”
I turn the words over in my head. I know what she means. When she’s close to me, the silence feels like peace. When she’s not, it feels like emptiness.
“So what does this all mean?” I ask. “You. Me. All this.” I gesture to the woods around us. “What’s the why?”
She walks over to the shelter and sits on the platform. I take a seat next to her, waiting for her answer.
She lays her head on my shoulder, then she says, “I don’t know.”
Well, that’s two of us. But I think maybe I don’t need to know the answer right now. Maybe it doesn’t matter why we’re here. Maybe what matters is what we do with the situation.
We sit like this for a while, listening to the soft wind blowing through the trees, the calls of the birds, the distant roar of the waves.
It’s so fuckin’ different from home. Back there, everybody needs something.
Everybody’s pulling at me. Here, it’s just her, and it’s not a burden. I’m happy to do for her.
I kiss her forehead and hope the quiet means the same thing to her as it does to me.