Page 40 of Into the Mountains
“I need some slack, Charlie!” This sense of dread I’m now feeling mixes with anger at the sound of that nickname. Because it’s starting to not bother me as much. I’m supposed to hate him. He hurt me. But that was fifteen years ago. How long am I going to let myself hold onto old grudges? Thinking of that summer though brings up more than just the pain connected to him. It brings up the sadness connected to them too. My parents and the time it seemed like everything in my life ended.
“Too much slack!” Elias’s voice makes me jump and I see him sliding faster than he can handle. He reaches out to try to find somewhere on the rock to grip, but he can’t find a good enough hold. The rope slips through my hands, the fabric of the glove protecting my hand, before someone finally notices my struggle. I feel arms come around me and grab the rope, making it come to a full stop which causes Elias to jerk backwards in a way that looks like it’ll bring soreness to him tomorrow.
Once his feet are planted firmly on the ground, the rest of the group is surrounding us. Everyone goes to him to make sure he’s okay. Hudson comes from behind me and I surmise he must have been the one that realized we were in trouble. Outside the huddle, I feel the pressure in my chest deepen and don’t bother trying to intervene, shrinking back into a self I haven’t been in years. Shoulders hunched, quiet, invisible.
I ask the front desk for directions to the bathroom, hoping my attempt at hiding whatever is happening to me well enough. A sigh of relief escapes me when I open the door and see that it’s empty. I just want to curl into myself until whatever this is passes and I can go back to camp. Or go hike alone. I don’t know what I want right now. My head is too muddled and I almost just got Elias seriously hurt.
An image of Ethan’s face filters through my head and I imagine having to tell him that it was my fault that his dad wasinjured on our trip. He could’ve broken his neck. Ethan could have ended up an orphan and it would have been my fault.
Fuck, the pressure cracks and I’m hyperventilating. But I welcome the pain, feel it and let myself cry. Again.
“Charlotte?” A voice comes from the open entrance to the locker room. No, he’s not supposed to come console me.
“I’m…fine,” I try to call back, but my voice is filled with too much emotion. His footsteps get closer as I’m trying to calm my breathing. By the time he finds me on one of the locker room benches, tears are flowing down my cheeks and I don’t bother to stifle my sobs any longer.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I half yell. He flinches. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be yelling at you of all people after I almost killed you. But this really hurts and I’m the worst and I’m so, so sorry.”
He gives me a sad smile and if I had the wherewithal, I’d give him shit about not wanting his fucking pity. But I think the part of me that isn’t quite fully healed wants something familiar. Wants him.
Elias kneels down in front of me and places his hands on either arm, squeezing…once, twice. I flinch at the contact at first before leaning into it. I feel my heart rate start to slow along with my breathing, the pressure in my chest beginning to dissipate.
He wipes tears from my cheeks and tucks the strands of hair plastered to my face. “Are you okay?” he asks again in a soft voice.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t even know what just happened.”
“It looked like a panic attack. Have you ever had one before?” he asks.
“No. Never.”
We’re silent for a moment before he speaks again. “You didn’t almost kill me, Charlie. I would have been okay.”
“You were falling so fast and I couldn’t grip the rope.”
“I know,” he says, softly. “I’m okay.”
“But what if you weren’t?” My voice grows louder, the panic rising again. “What if Hudson hadn’t gotten there? You were so high up and I was so caught up in my head about our past and that summer and my parents and I just lost focus.”
“You did,” he admits. “I’m okay though. Everything is okay. Or it’s going to be. Okay? I’m not mad.”
“Why? You should be screaming at me. All I could think about was Ethan and having to tell him I hurt you.”
“That’s why.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not mad, because I knew you secretly cared for me. And my son.” One of his hands grips the back of my neck and he pulls me to him until my forehead is pressed against his. “And I care for you too, Charlie.”
My breathing calms and I feel content here with his skin against mine. I feel something shift between us with his admission and I’m not sure how to take it.
“Do you still care for me?” he asks.
“Elias,” I whisper, matching his voice. “I—” I hesitate. Of course I care for him, but admitting it out loud…I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
The way he separates his body from mine tells me he can sense my hesitation. Leaning back, he shifts his weight so he can stand before he takes a seat next to me on the bench.
“So, why are you so intoThe Hobbit?”
