Page 80 of Ezekiel
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever she had to say. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited anxiously.
“I want to leave,” she finally spoke. It was a statement, spoken with a finality that surprised me.
“You want to go home? That’s fine. I brought my car over. I can take you right now,” I almost fell over myself trying to meet her needs.
“No. I want to leave.” As though her repeated words made anything any fucking clearer.
“I don’t understand,” I finally muttered, searching her eyes. The look of pain and sadness was still there, shining back at me in her brilliant blue eyes, but now there was a determination in their depths as well.
“I want to leave Zion.” The words I had hoped to hear tumbled out of her lips with such confidence and conviction it stunned me. My heart thumped wildly in my chest. The hope I had pushed aside, refusing to acknowledge for fear of her refusal when that day finally came, sprung back to life within me.
“That makes me so happy to hear, Talia. When we leave, you’ll come with us? You’re sure?” I questioned, inwardly kicking myself for even giving her that question when all my hopes were dangling right there in front of me.
“No. Not when you all decide to leave. I want to leave Zion. Tonight.” I sat there in stunned silence. My eyes moved over to Kai, who simply shrugged his shoulders. He was just as confused as I was.
“We can’t leave right now, Talia. The plan, remember? We talked about this,” I reasoned with her gently, taking her hands in mine.
“You’re not listening!” she seethed, yanking her hands out of my grasp. “I want to leave. Now. Right now.”
Tears shone brightly in her eyes. I watched as her jaw clenched angrily. But the way her eyes darted around the room told me what I needed to know. That fear was still there.
“Without me?” I asked, already dreading her answer.
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, if I have to.” The tears that shimmered spilled over and she swiped at them.
“Talia, what’s going on?” I pleaded with her. “Help me understand. Whatever I did, I promise —”
“It’s not always about you, Zeke!” she hissed at me, rolling her eyes dramatically. Kai’s chuckle from the couch drew my attention away, only for a split second.
“Can it!” I warned him. He put his hands up apologetically, zipping his lips in a silent vow of, well, silence.
“So tell me what it is about, then. Please.” I tried with all might to stay calm and keep my tone gentle, but this was unfamiliar territory. How was I supposed to care for her when she was like this? I just didn’t fucking know what to do.
“I need to leave,” she stated again. This time the vitriol was gone from her voice. She was pleading with me.
“Why? Tell me why. Help me understand, love,” I begged her. I felt my own hot tears prick at my eyes. Now was not the time to cry. I needed to be strong for her.
Get it together, Zeke,I inwardly chastised myself.
“You were right, Zeke,” she admitted quietly, tears slipping unwanted down her cheeks. “You were right about all of it. This place. I need to leave. Please let me leave.” I didn’t think I could hurt worse than I already had that night, yet there I sat, crouched before her, my shattered heart being pummeled by the emotions of this one woman.
“How? Make me understand. Please,” I tried again. My legs were cramping from my position, so I sat on the floor below her. Ready to take her into my arms at a moment’s notice. I wanted that more than anything.
“They took me,” her voice broke with a choked sob.
“Took you?” I questioned, my brow furrowing in confusion.
“They didn’t die. They took… and then it was a lie. And they all know. They have to know. And their voices just won’t stop.” The words tumbled from her lips in a jumbled mess I couldn’t make sense of. One question at a time. I tried to piece together her words, forming my own questions for better understanding.
“Who didn’t die?” I asked. My anxiety was rising, my hands wanting to fidget in my lap as I sat there, confused.
“My parents,” she cried quietly. The pain on her face was so real, cutting through me like a knife.
“Of course they didn’t die, sweetheart. They are safe at home. You’ll see them on Sunday at church,” I tried to assure her, reaching for her hands again, but she jumped from her seat, stepping over me as she paced the room. Her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection in a protective gesture I knew all too well.
“Do NOT call those… thosepeople…my parents. They arenotmy parents,” she spewed, anger lighting up her face.
“Wait, what? You love your parents, Talia,” I reasoned, standing up from my position on the floor. I was antsy and her pacing was only exacerbating that feeling.
