Page 44 of All or Nothing
I managed a deep, shuddering breath and continued to the elevator to get down to the ground floor.
I’d never been in the alley next to my building before, and while I was horrified by the smells and mystery puddles it was distant compared to the urgency thundering through me:must climb.
Must get to Joss.
Must…Joss…
Joss…
The ladder descended with an anguished squeal when I tugged on it, stopping with a groan a few inches above my head. I frowned, grabbing the rusted steel and yanking on it, causing it to fall another inch or two. I leaned all my weight back, and it stayed firm at that height. I sighed, hoping my upper body strength would be enough to get me up the ladder to the staircase that was the fire escape proper.
It involved a lot of jumping and grunting, and some flopping I wasveryglad no one was around to witness, but I managed to get myself up onto the ladder and begin climbing.
And if I screamed when, halfway up, the ladder suddenly dropped several more feet and almost dislodged me, that was between me and my Goddess.
Limbs unsteady from my harrowing climb, I began my trek up the twenty flights of stairs that would take me outside Joss’s window. For the first four floors I was feeling good, surprising myself. I thought,hey, maybe this’ll be easier than I thought. Maybe I’ll manage it in no time at all.
By the seventh flight, I knew I was wrong. Possiblydeadwrong. Sweat began pouring off of me, soaking my clothes, and my breaths were getting ragged and painful. In an attempt to alleviate the burning in my legs from the endless climb, I started pulling myself up with my arms.
At the halfway point, floor ten, my arms and legs started cramping painfully. I looked up at the height I still had to climb and wanted to cry. I allowed some stoic whimpering, then forced a deep breath. Joss was worth it. I couldn’t let things end between us like this. I wiped at the moisture on my cheeks that was definitely just sweat and not also tears, and hauled my screaming body back into motion, Joss’s name like a prayer looping in my head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Rapunzel
JOSS
I’D SLEPTlike shit. Not surprising, but after the day I’d had yesterday I could have used a good sleep. I was ravenously hungry and I had to pee like a bitch, but my desire to avoid Xollen was outweighing those needs.
It hurt to think about him. I was just so fuckingconflicted, and I hated that I still cared about the bastard. I wanted to hate him, to be able to cast him aside like he had cast me aside. But all the sweet moments we’d shared kept creeping in, making me doubt that he’d actually done that. He acted all tough and aloof but I’d caught so many glimpses of a scared, deeply insecure person that responded strongly to my kindness, like it was the first time someone had been gentle with him. Like he was unused to someone encouraging him, supporting him, so that he treated it like it was the greatest gift he’d ever been given. I knew what that was like, and how much it changed your life to suddenly get that. To feel supported and—andenough.
Once I’d given up on sleep I’d gotten back to my searching on the nexus, though my heart was less in it than it had been yesterday at the height of my rage. One moment I wanted to leave this apartment and never come back, the other I wanted to fling open the door and find Xollen and scream at him and hug him and then force him to make me those noodles that I liked so much as penance. But it felt like I was forgiving him too easily, that I was letting him walk all over me and calling it love like I had done so often back on Earth. This was supposed to be my fresh start where I unleashed a bolder, more assertive Joss who didn’t let people make her feel guilty about her existence.
I had a page open about how immigrants could qualify for government housing, but my eyes were blind to the words. My thoughts were swirling too ruthlessly around Xollen, around what my feelings for him were doing to my sense of self.
A loud crash against the window behind me had me jumping and nearly falling out of my chair. I whipped around so fast my neck twinged, my heart in my throat.
Pressed up against the glass of my one window, so tired and sweaty it looked like it hurt, was Xollen. He mouthed something I couldn’t hear, sagging against the glass and pawing at it, his eyes darting around like he was trying to see through the privacy film.
I was up and rushing to the window before I could think it through, sliding the lock aside and yanking hard on the sash to get the window up. Xollen oozed through the gap, sliding to the floor in a moist mint-colored heap. I took several big steps back, putting more space between us again. Between panting, wheezing, and sweating, I got three words from him: “Don’t…leave…me…”
I was torn.
I was still mad at him, still so hurt, but I’d always been a sucker for someone pathetic and in need. Putting others before myself had always been my favorite form of self-harm.
So I stood there, halfway across the room, staring down into his swirling violet eyes, so bleak yet hopeful, and I thought about this.
Did I want to forgive him? Absolutely. But was it the right thing to do?ThatI didn’t know.
I sighed, walking over to Xollen’s wet noodle of a body sprawled out on the floor. He was still breathing heavily and looking kind of out of it, and I finally put two-and-two together and realized he’d climbed up the fire escape to get to me. To talk to me. I sank to the floor near his head, sitting cross-legged and pursing my lips into a line.
“You hurt me,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve only ever wanted to help you and you just…snap at me. All the time. I don’t deserve that, and you promised to do better, to get help.” My voice sounded meek, and it was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, getting those words out, but I was proud of myself anyway. This was what I’d been working so hard on with Dr. Jackson all those years: asserting myself, stating my boundaries, and loving myself enough to stand up for myself.
“I know,” Xollen rasped, closing his eyes briefly and grimacing. “I’m sorry, Joss. Please…another chance?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, thinking. Did I want to give him another chance? In my experience, an abuser only used second chances to keep abusing you. But there was a chance—and maybe I was blind to think it was there—that he wasn’t being malicious. That he was being dumb, and emotionally stunted, but that he really was serious about not wanting to hurt me.
“I’ve been hurt by people promising to change before, Xollen. I gave them second chances, and third chances, sometimes even more, and they just kept hurting me. So if you want me to stay, you have to actually change. Not justtry. You have to actually do it.”
