Page 63 of The Tomorrows After You
Nicolette fell to her knees, exhausted. She inhaled a breath and let out another cry, this one laced with fury and grief.
Iturnedto see a small crowdgathering,peeringaround the entrance to the vendor row. Jeremy Blackwellscowledat me from the front of the group.
My focus returned to Nicolette. Her screams subsided to shallow wails, still muffled by the shirt she stuffed in her mouth. She was left wearing just a black bra and as the crowd grew, something fiercely protective in me came alive. I unbuttoned my plaid shirt and removed it, leaving only my white t-shirt underneath.
Itookcareful steps toward her,tryingto use my body to block most of the view of her shirtless form. My hearthurtto think she might not want to see me but the need to get her far away from hereeclipsed my fear of rejection.
She didn’t look up when Idrapedmy shirt around her shoulders. She didn’t look up when Iputan arm around her andusedtheother to help her to her feet. And she didn’t look up when Iguidedher in the direction of my truck, away from the onlookers. Shepulledthe shirt from her mouth andusedit to wipe the tears thathadstartedstreamingfrom her red, puffy eyes.
Nicolette’s shoulders continued to hitch, remaining curled in on herself. I didn’t take my arms away, fearing she’d collapse if I let go. I pulled her tighter to my body and her shoulders relaxed causing something in my heart to bloom. Her careful steps kept time with mine and although I wanted her to look at me, wanted to ask how she was doing, wanted her to know it would be alright, I had to let her be the first one to speak when she was ready.
I pulled the passenger door open, and she didn’t hesitate before climbing in, eager to lift her feet from touching the earth that had just viciously torn her heart to shreds. When her sobs subsided, she took a deep breath, leaning back against the seat, devastated and defeated.
Godot had taught me the harsh reality of what it was like to be a pariah in this town. The façade of southern hospitality was laced with judgment and I knew how she was feeling right now, at least partially, because I felt it the day I returned and every day since. It was a horrible sensation to feel unwanted. Especially in a place that was supposed to be your home.
A few minutes after I began driving, she lifted her head, blinking as if she just realized we were moving. She wiped away a tear and turned to me. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“For a little ride.”I finallyletmy focus drift to her and my heartbrokeall over again at her deep,woundedeyes,swollenand bloodshot, her flawless skin splotchy and red.
I had seen her defeated. I had never seen her wrecked.
“Are you dumping me on the outskirts of town with all the other trash?” She sounded so sad and bitter it made my chest hitch.
“Nope,” was all I said. And kept driving.
The lake was serene as dusk settled over it. The water reflected the hot colors of the early sunset and for a moment it looked like one endless sky. I almost smiled, breathing in the air that came off the small lake. Nicolette pushed her door open.
“Hang on.” I jogged over to the passenger side and pulled open the glove compartment where I kept a small first aid kit. I pulled it out and gestured for her hands. She looked confused, gazing down at her hands and wrists which were oozing blood from tiny cuts. Her palms extended toward me.
Iopenedan antibacterial wipe andpattedher skin. Shesuckedin a painful breath, the chemicals stinging the wounds. Iloweredmy lips to hover over her bare arms andblewcool air on the stinging cuts. Goosebumps ran down her skin. Ikeptmy hands on her forearms,tryingto warm her from the outside in.
“I’m sorry about the pieces, Riot,” she rasped, her gaze still fixed on the bandages I was applying to the larger lacerations. “I’ll pay for them or help fix them or…” she drifted off. When I finished, I held her hands in mine, silently pleading for her attention.
“You needed to hit something. And it was the most familiar something nearby.” I dared to lift her chin to look me in the eyes. “Don’t worry about the artwork. Not even a little. Thoseareeasy fixes.”
I helped her down off the truck and she came to a stop, mesmerized by the sunset too. I halted at the way the golden light reflected off her skin. She pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders and back. I held my breath, afraid I might give away how unbelievably beautiful I found her at that moment. She wrapped my shirt tighter around her body and my stomach twisted. She looked good in it and I let myself imagine she was pretending it was me.
My phonerangin my back pocket. The last thing Ineededwasto bedistractedby calls right now. Ipulledit out andtossedit on the driver’s seat at the same time IsawNicolette throw herlit-up phone through the open passenger window. They bothlandedon the fabric seats at the same time with a soft thud. Shelookedup and our eyescaughtfor a moment of silentunderstanding.
Wordlessly, I grabbed a backpack out of the back seat and began hiking down an embankment. Nicolette followed close behind.
The path down to the lake was steep. When we reached the bottom, I turned to offer her a hand down the last boulder. She hesitated but took it and her soft hand was so warm in mine it almost made me feel drunk.
As both her feethitthe sandy leaves, I didn’t botherlettinggo of her hand. Warmthspreadthrough me when she didn’t pull away.
There was a small row boat upside down on the bank. I flipped it over, landing it in the water and holding it from floating away with my foot. I looked back at her, once again extending a hand to help her in the boat.
This time shestoodfixedwhere shewas,continuingto dart her uneasy attention from me to the boat to the water, back to my hand, her eyes wary.
I dropped my hand to my side and softened my gaze.
Come on, Nicolette, trust me. Come with me.Her eyes tangled with mine, fixed in a warring standoff, not with me, but with herself. I raised my hand again, pushing it out, beckoning her closer.
With a tentative step, she reached out, and I wrapped her hand in mine.
24
Nicolette
