Chapter 8
Jay
The house has gone quiet, and I was lying in the dark where everything morphs and changes into something terrifying and unknown, stopping me from falling asleep.
Haden must live on a quiet road, as not even the sounds of the passing cars can be heard in this room. It’s like being suspended in another dimension without being able to distinguish direction or find a way out. My nerves are like naked wires while I lie here waiting for the worst to happen.
Even the yellow light of the streetlamps doesn’t penetrate the thick curtain, which is strangely completely closed today. Only the sounds of the wind, when the gusts are particularly strong, penetrate the darkness.
At this moment, if things were normal, I’d be on my knees on the hard wet ground again, trying to make as much money as I could, instead of being in a warm bed away from the danger.
I should stop thinking and force myself to sleep. I won’t have chances like this once I’m back in my old life. Visions of worst-case scenarios fill my head, reminding me how much of a nightmare my life is.
Things can only get worse.
I take a deep breath and use the technique one of the other occupants of the building we live in suggested when I had my first panic attack.
Four in, keep it for four, and release it in four.
I’m not sure if it’s correct, but it seems to work, because it shifts my attention from inside my head to the action of counting.
The panic doesn’t disappear, it’s just easier to handle it, and I can pretend it’s not taking my breath away.
I squeeze my eyes, trying to fall asleep, but the stillness in the house reminds me so much of all those nights where I’d lie awake fearing the upcoming morning that’ll bring Dick and those hands that’ll exploit my body.
When the only thing I ever wanted was to be in the arms of a person who loved me.
Betrayal doesn’t hurt as much as my stupidity does.
How could I have been so blind to what was happening? How could I have trusted Dave, when everything in me screamed not to?
By the time shit hit the fan, it was too late. I had to open my eyes to the reality that I trust too easily, that I give everything I have without asking for anything in return.
But no more. They’re not taking more than my body because that’s the only thing keeping me alive. Some day, they won’t be taking that either. It’ll be Jeremy and me, in a safe place, where the ugliness of the world can’t touch us.
How could love make me so blind? How could I have let love fuck me up so badly?
I pull the sheet away, and then I stretch the collar of the PJs top I’m wearing, trying to get as much air as I can, because my throat is slowly closing up on me, and soon the room will do that too.
Until everything is dark, and I won’t be able to move.
My body will be like stones, heavy and uncooperative, and it’ll be like I’m buried in the ground.
When those tricks don’t work, and my brain keeps wandering in a loop of dread and anxiety, I leave the bed. I rise slowly, trying not to juggle my ribs too much, and I bite my already sore lips to keep the groan inside. The last thing I want is to wake up Haden.
I leave my room silently, hoping a bigger space will give more room to breathe. I use my phone for some light, just to turn it off when I reach the corridor, because it’s not as dark as my room.
My room… I’d give everything for that to be the truth.
I make my way to the kitchen, guided by the street light that wasn’t visible in my room.
Maybe some water will help me… or tea. I wish I was one for drinking until I pass out instead, but I’m too afraid to lose control, so I keep myself away from it.
Not being in control can lead to what happened last night, and so much worse.
How has my life become so unfamiliar in this short amount of time?
I don’t want to be a fool again. I don’t want to stumble into another situation that will break me even more. It would be easy for me to fall for someone as strong and reliable as Haden is…
“Aaaaah!!” I jump out of my skin, and then whimper in pain, when a shadow moves in the kitchen.
“It’s me.” Haden’s voice makes my blood liquid again.
Relief and something undefined fills me and calms my overworking mind and body.
I turn my light on again to make sure I don’t stumble on anything. The brightness calms my racing heart a bit more and gives me the chance to admire Haden.
He’s standing next to the sink and looking out at the darkness beyond it, a glass in his hand, still half full. I believe it’s alcohol until my light lands on it, then the clarity of the liquid and the absence of smell gives away that it’s water.
I watch Haden bring it to his lips, the glass reflecting the outside light just enough for me to see his face and the lines wrinkling his forehead. He looks older and troubled.
If only I had the right to take a step forward and clear them with a caress of my hand, wishing that caress had the power to take away all his worries and replace them with a smile.
How would he look wearing one?
His lips deserve to be stretched by a smile. An open one, full of joy, warmth, and life.
“Did I wake you up?” His voice is careful, as if he’s afraid of scaring me and making me run away. As if I’m a wounded animal he’s trying to protect.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
He turns to me slowly, and I stand there, barefoot and under his gaze, feeling smaller than I already am. My hair is damp with sweat, and only now that my muscles are relaxing and trembling am I aware of how much tension there was in my body.
“I thought I heard you.”
I take another step towards him, attracted by his presence like a moth is attracted by the light.
He opens a cupboard, takes out a glass, and places it under the tap. Once the glass is close to overflowing, he turns the faucet off and hands it to me.
Tears spring to my eyes at how caring he is, even if everything is hidden under a tough shell.
“Sit,” he says, and I laugh, but it’s a wet one. His harsh tone, so in contrast to how caring he is.
It doesn’t bother me, because I appreciate what’s behind it. When he’s close to me, the darkness surrounding me fades, and life looks a little… a lot brighter.
I take a seat, ready to appreciate this moment of tranquillity, but my mouth runs away from me.
“Do I get a treat?” I keep my tone light, so he knows I’m joking.
His shoulders relax just a little, and my guts buzz as a hive of fireflies light up inside me.
“Tea or silence?” Haden asks while moving to the counter to pick up the kettle.
“Both sound good,” I say, afraid of what kind of questions tea will bring.
He fills the kettle at the sink, and then only the rumble of it fills the room.
I follow Haden with my eyes while he confidently moves around the room. He turns the light on, picks up two cups, and then sugar and milk. Those familiar actions settle the still-charged energy.
I turn my light off, and put my phone on the table.
He glances at me, and I answer his silent question.
“Two sugar, no milk.”
He prepares the cups while I watch him, but he doesn’t seem to notice while he devotes all his attention to making tea.
“I’m not sure why, but the kitchen is the best place for sleepless nights.” He doesn’t appear to be talking to me, but more to himself.
“It feels quiet here,” I say, only so the silence doesn’t fall on us again. I have to admit, being here in this kitchen makes me feel better.
“It’s the middle of the night, so it is quieter.”
I chuckle, and it comes out low and tired. I give my previous thought some form. “I meant in my head.” The truth of my words hits me. My body’s not as stiff as before, my mind’s no longer in a loop of dread and fear of the future, and my breath is regular.
He doesn’t talk for a while, as if taking in what I said, but concentrates on his tasks. Then he hands me a cup, made just as I like it.
Our fingers brush together, and that reminds me of the moment he caressed my lips.
His touch burns, and awakens a need inside me that I haven’t felt since the first time I fell in love. When I was still innocent and didn’t know how dirty this world could be.
When he sits down, we both look at our drink, as if that moment of connections has passed.
Maybe this tea won’t lead to questions after all, or to sharing our lives with each other.
The silence, though, isn’t uncomfortable.
It brings understanding, as though even without words we can recognise each other.
We can recognise the pain we both went through, and we can recognise the dark clouds that still cover our sky, hindering the vision of the sun above us.
The silence stretches, only interrupted by the clock ticking away the time.
“It’s weird how two a.m. brings the need for sharing and the need to be honest. As if while the world sleeps, we’re allowed to share things that we wouldn’t talk about at breakfast.”
I look at him, my gaze taking everything in—his loneliness and his distress—and pushing me to share part of myself I never thought I would share.
I wrap my hands around the cup, letting it warm my gelid fingers, and taking the time to collect my thoughts.
“What I’m about to say may sound stupid, because we just met, and not in the best of circumstances.” Looking up at him, I catch the nod he makes, and I take it as if he’s telling me to continue. “I feel safe here. Even when I can’t sleep… especially when I can’t.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I wasn’t expecting him to. However, this time the silence isn’t as comfortable as before, and to fill it I let my mouth run again.
“Why did you save me?” I’m not sure if he’s more surprised by my voice or my question.
“What?”
One word, but it’s enough to understand that my question has pissed him off. I’m surprised that after only a day, it’s easy for me to read that in his growl.
Is it weird that it makes me feel safe?