Rose
My brain isn’t working efficiently as I reach over to stop the water’s flow. Instead, it’s competing in what seems to be a losing game against my body. The goosebumps spreading over my exposed skin make me want to climb out and face whatever is on the opposite side of the door. Is he here? Is he gone? As soon as the water ceases to run, I’m reminded of my momentary cowardice.
I felt my heartbeat in my head, my throat a prison to the words I wouldn’t offer. His touch, gliding across my skin at the pace I set, was as soft as I’d always hoped it would be.
He was the moment’s master, and my unease was apparent in my lack of consent.
But now the moment’s gone. He’s gone. And I don’t know what to make of the silence and the emptiness of this bathroom. The sight of the pale green peeling linoleum is enough to make me long for a home I’ve never had and can only think fondly of from time to time. Nonsensical thoughts.
Abel is my first bit of true comfort. He’s my home now.
It’s so silent, I can easily remember the way my heartbeat sounded in my ears. The difference between the current silence and the previous cacophony makes me slow to inhale and afraid to exhale. The silence steals my breath. I’m trying so hard to hear a sound. Anything from the other side of the door.
Is he gone for good? Is that all it took?
In my lust, I am a coward and I will bear the brunt of that. In this tub, I am painfully lonely.
I hear something just outside the door, a quiet thud, and I sink back into the water, letting myself fall…fall…fall until I’m submerged.
I can hear my heart beating again as it thumps in my chest, keeping me alive.
My heart is a cruel creature, continuing to beat after I’ve stopped those in others.
My body is a cruel creature, wanting Abel more than words can say.
I sit up and inhale harshly, rushing air into my lungs before wiping the water away from my face.
I thought that in order to live, I had to protect my vital organs. My heart. My brain.
I could list them all with ease, but I couldn’t lose one of them and survive. It was physically impossible.
And then I met Abel Cartagena and he became something no one else has ever been.
Abel is a vital organ, living outside my body, and if I lose him, I would not survive it.
When I gather the courage to leave the bathroom, I breathe at the sight of Abel in bed, his face relaxed in resting as he somehow sleeps again.
A whimper cracks through the dark room and immediately, I’m awake and aware, listening for another.
Something close to a gasp escapes from the person sleeping beside me. I stare into the darkness, waiting to hear anything else.
I clench my fists to keep from counting. Not with Abel. Not when I have nothing to worry about.
I prefer the mumbles and sighs more than the throaty sounds and deep snores.
Still, in my worry, I wonder.
In an attempt to keep from doing so, I turn onto my back and take a few deep breaths.
I’ve nearly found my way back into sleep when another sound jolts me back into consciousness.
He’d been quiet all day while we shopped for clothes and more food. I held back questions each time he sent me a small smile. Still, he remained quiet, even while watching television with his hand on some part of my body, like he knew I needed reassurance.
But his silence was likely of his own doing. Suffocating his thoughts, forcing them back inside until they had to come through as he slept. He shifts and settles, only to shift again, making those sounds again. Initially, it’s just groans and grumbles of words I can’t quite make out. I don’t think much of it and I close my eyes again, relaxing back into sleep.
“,” he gasps.
I sit up and turn on the light on my side of the bed, scooting away from where he sleeps. As soon as the light is on, I peek over at him, unsure if he’d actually said it.
Is it me he’s having bad dreams about? Is he finally afraid of me?
I can’t see what he’s thinking. His eyes are still shut and his jaw clenches as he dreams. He kicks his leg out and I scoot farther out of his way just as he says, “Don’t kill him.”
I still and peer over at him, this time knowing what I heard but not knowing how to react.
No.
I want to reach out and touch him, to claim him from the dream that’s causing his fear of me. He belongs to me , dream, not you.
But it isn’t the phantom that haunts his mind that did it. It’s me: the outsider, the murderer, the mad mastermind.
I should have known it would be too much. That I am too much for him.
Foolish hope.
“No…he didn’t deserve it.”
He did, I want to scream. He’d have taken us away from each other .
Doesn’t that frighten Abel the way it does me? How could he not see that I’d saved us?
The cop wasn’t evil. But he became an obstacle that had to be vanquished.
Abel keeps his guilt quiet, his guard up, only to reveal his secrets to me when he is most vulnerable. Doesn’t he know he can’t hide from me?
He fists the sheets before shifting again. He shivers and I’m scrambling off the bed as quickly as I can, as if his remorse is contagious.
Whatever Abel’s mind is putting him through, I don’t want it.
“Don’t do it,” he says.
I can’t be loved by a man like Abel.
In my resolve, I am on a mission, moving toward my final act. It was this, or me ending up facing the same life I’d only just run from. In a flurry, I’m searching, throwing clothes and shoes to find…
My hands touch it as I rifle through my backpack.
Cool metal, the feel of life’s balance at my fingertips.
I’m no god. And no god could’ve planned, designed, and created me.
But I can feel some sort of holy duty, an unbearable and potent strength perched on my shoulders, threatening to crush me.
I’m no god but I have intimate knowledge on how profound it feels to steal a man’s last breath.
My fingers wrap tighter around it and I aim at Abel. My hand shakes as my internal screams weaken me.
Wrong.
Wrong!
I bring the gun to my temple. I can feel my heartbeat in my hand and I blame my adrenaline.
Peace. Quiet.
Monster!
I don’t want remorse. I don’t want his remorse, and in his sleep, he tells me everything he would otherwise keep to himself.
My lids are pressed together as I tell myself I’m his nightmare. I am what is terrorizing him.
I am the monster in his life.
I switch the safety off.
Look at him. Don’t do it without seeing him one last time.
When I open my eyes, Abel is staring at me.
“?”
How does he do this? How can he sit there, calm and expressionless when I’m all chaos, heartbreak, and confusion?
“You hate me,” I whisper, and he shakes his head and moves toward me. With every inch that disappears between us, I loosen my hold on the gun.
“Never.”
The words are more air than actual sound and it’s like I can feel them as he scoots ever closer.
Never but…
“You wish I never killed him,” I say.
He doesn’t deny it, and I twist my lips as I adjust my grip on the gun. He eyes the movement and jumps off the bed to stand beside me. He doesn’t try to grab the gun, he doesn’t tell me to stop.
“Look.” He grabs my free hand before pressing his opposite ear to mine. “If you pull the trigger, you’ll kill me, too.” If the bullet rips through me, it’ll create a path of death through him. And I can’t bear the thought.
Because you can’t find life worth living if I’m no longer here? I finish his statement for him internally and slide the gun from my temple to my neck and all the way down until it’s aimed at the floor.
I sob and lean against him as he reaches over to grab the gun from my flimsy grip.
“I’m your nightmare,” I tell him.
I hear the click of the safety switch and the moment he drops the gun on the bed, he pulls me into his arms. I am filled with the peace I yearned for from a bullet the moment I’m surrounded by him.
In my panic, I am suicidal.
“What would I do without you?” he asks, running his palms over my arms at first.
Then he’s pressing kisses to my face, held between his hands, where tears run hot.
I dig my nails into his skin at my thoughts before settling on one. “Find a good girl who could never love you as much as I do.”
“Fuck that shit.” He pulls back to give me his dark brown eyes. “Don’t wish that on me.”
The left side of his lips stretch up and he lifts me right along with it.
He smiles like he didn’t just catch me with a gun to my head and I’m wondering what kind of magic this man is.
“Do I scare you?” I ask the man who’d only just had a nightmare about me.
“Losing you scares me.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, still attempting to soothe me. “That’s about the one thing that could really fuck me up. You don’t want that for me, do you?”
I shake my head.
“Good. Because then I’d have to find your mother and kill her, and I don’t know if I could do it exactly the way you’d want it done.” Abel’s grin widens.
And I have no choice but to smile in response. “You can’t handle that quite yet.”
He shrugs and leads me to the bed, only settling beside me after he turns off the lamp.
I snuggle into him as a final shiver leaves my body. “I think you’re some sort of magician, Mr. Cartagena,” I whisper before kissing his shoulder.
I fall asleep in his arms and dream of blood.
The more that surrounds me, the further Abel becomes until I can’t see him anymore.