Chapter Thirty Seven #2
Etienne shifted on the couch to face her. “Well, what has helped you find your center in the past?”
“Running,” Ophelia responded immediately. “But like treating, I haven’t done it in months.”
“Welp, no time like the present,” said Etienne, clapping his hands together as if the decision was final. He stood up and looked at Ophelia as if he was waiting for her to start moving.
“It’s eight thirty at night.” She realized she was stating the obvious here, but she was not running at night in New Orleans.
“It is, and we’re going for a run. Let me grab my gym bag from my truck.” Etienne walked out of the house. Ophelia cycled through a million reasons why she was not going for a run with Etienne, and the very first one was that she didn’t want to. She had no drive to push herself like that right now.
Etienne came back in the house with a navy gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Are you gonna go get dressed?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not going running at night. It’s not safe. But honestly, it’s more than that. I’m just exhausted. I probably wouldn’t go running during the day either, if we’re being transparent here.”
Ophelia wouldn’t tell Etienne this, but she didn’t want to run because running made her feel better. She didn’t want to feel better. She wasn’t ready to let go of all of the pain yet, just relieve a bit of this magic build-up. That’s it.
“Okay, first off, I know this is unfair, but you can run outside at night when you’re with me. I know you’ve probably never done that before, but it won’t be unsafe if I’m there.”
“Oh, so you’re going to protect me?”
Etienne crossed his arms and flexed his biceps. “Yes.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Okay, and what’s your second point?”
“Secondly, I think you need a push. You reached out to me for help. You asked me to help you learn how to treat better. So welcome to my masterclass. Lace up, O. The night isn’t getting any younger.”
Etienne gave her a solid pat on the back and walked into the half bathroom to change.
“So how far do you typically run?” asked Etienne as he stretched his quads.
“Three to five miles. Just depends.”
“All right. Let’s stick with three tonight.”
The night was cool and humid, and streetlamps lit their way along Carrollton Ave.
The pair started off at a slow, comfortable pace.
Ophelia had never run with another person, or without music, or at night, so she wasn’t confident that this particular run would help center her.
But she focused on Etienne’s breathing. It was easier to listen to his breath.
Listening to her own breath caused her to critique herself. His breathing had a nice cadence.
About a mile in, she was lost in the pounding rhythm of their feet on pavement and the musicality of Etienne’s breath. It was so freeing to be lost like that. Present.
They ran up the levee, pumping their arms till they reached the top and doubled over, gasping for breath.
“Oh my gosh,” said Ophelia.
“Feels good, huh?”
She laughed. “Yeah. I know you want me to admit that you were right, but I’m not quite ready to do that.”
“Take your time, O. I’ll wait.” Etienne smiled at her, and Ophelia couldn’t breathe.
His smile could kill her. When Etienne smiled, it was like witnessing a natural phenomenon.
His typical stoic face transformed into dimples, white teeth, full lips stretched wide, light wrinkles around his eyes, and warmth exuding from his brown irises.
“Ready to keep going?” he asked. She nodded in response, and they set off again.
Once they were back at her house, Ophelia poured them both giant glasses of cold water from the fridge and grabbed two hand towels to wipe off their sweat.
Downing his water quickly, Etienne turned to Ophelia.
“All right. Treat my old man neck now.” Ophelia looked at him with caution.
“Come on,” he said. “Now is the time before you get too in your head. Stay in the present.”
“Fine,” she said, placing her glass in the kitchen sink. “Turn around.” Etienne did as he was told. Ophelia looked at his muscular neck, which was now framed by wet curls. “Umm…Actually, you’re too tall for me to do this here. Go sit on the couch again.”
“O, I’m filthy and sweaty. I’m not going to stink up your couch. Sit on the counter if you need to.”
Ophelia hopped up on her kitchen island as Etienne turned his back to her.
“Okay, this is better.” She reached for his shoulders and pulled him closer toward her.
She realized how intimate the position was as she stared at her tan, bare legs framing the back of his torso.
She felt a familiar flutter but forced it back down and started to center herself.
His neck muscles were slightly looser from the run, but still tense.
She ran her thumbs over the muscle, stroking the tension out of his neck.
His skin was damp with sweat, so she didn’t need the oil anymore.
She lost herself in the motion and let her mind go to that long-lost space.
She was clear-headed and open to his pain, sensing it mainly on the upper right side of his neck.
Breathing in and out, she pulled on that internal, invisible string, and her body tingled all over with a type of release that was almost spiritual as she felt the tension dissolve from his neck.
She opened her eyes and slowly removed her hands from his neck, audibly sighing as she felt her magic course freely through her body.
Etienne turned around to face her, which meant she was now straddling him, physically closer than they had ever been. Etienne’s face looked conflicted, like he was trying to read Ophelia’s reaction to the moment.
She broke the silence first. “Does it feel better?”
Etienne’s lip curved into a half smile. “It does. You did it.”
“Thank you for helping me,” she said barely above a whisper. She felt exhausted and weepy.
“You’re welcome. But the real question is, do you feel better?”
Ophelia steeled herself. “I feel a little lighter. The weight on my chest is less, and I’m not itchy anymore, so that’s good.”
Etienne stepped out of her space. “Good. Let me know if you want to practice more. You’ll be back at it in no time.”
She jumped off the counter. “Actually, do you want to meet again? Maybe regular lessons until I get my practice up? I also want to talk to you about how you do things. I feel like there is still so much to learn.”
“Sure. Wednesday nights are probably the best for me. Does that work for you?”
Ophelia smiled, pleased with her plan. “It does.”
“Cool. Well, it’s getting late, and I have an early shift, so I’d better get going.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
Etienne grabbed his gym bag and walked to the door.
He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob, then turned back around.
“I hope this doesn’t come off the wrong way, but I didn’t know if you were talking to someone about all the stuff you went through recently.
Like a therapist, that is. I thought maybe if you did want to talk to a therapist, you’d want to talk to a magical one.
So I asked around and got a recommendation.
” Etienne opened his wallet and handed her a business card.
“I…I don’t think you need it or anything, I just thought that if all of that had happened to me, I’d want it. I hope that’s okay.”
Ophelia held the card in her hands, staring at the blue serif font. Her eyes started to blur, and she blinked back tears. She looked up at him. “I’m not taking it the wrong way. Thank you. I mean it.”
“Of course. Take care, O.”
“See ya next week, E.”
As soon as the door closed, Ophelia quickly showered, then crawled into bed with her towel still on and cried herself to sleep.