Page 44 of Eternal

Guilt consumes me, as I start to regret leaving her alone for the past week. I tried hard to distance myself, but I can’t do it anymore. We can’t be separated like that anymore. It was as hard on me as much as it was on her.

“Freya, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe with me,” I whisper words of affirmation, cradling her to my chest.

She fights me at first, as if the dream she was in still dances across her eyes, but relaxes as this reality sets in for her. The overwhelming instinct to protect her is taking over, and I can’t suppress it anymore. I wish I could rip her memories of Tristan away, to only leave her with memories of us. We might not have too many of them now, but I’ll make sure we create plenty.

But before I give her the life she deserves, Tristan Bristol will die. If not by her hands, then by mine. I can’t even fathom how much she suffered at his hands if it left her this brittle.

I press kisses into the side of her head as she comes back to this reality. Her body relaxes slowly as I run my hands along her side, hoping to instill some comfort. She pats my chest and pulls herself out of my arms. A part of me wants to keep her velcroed to me, but I don’t want to push her too far today. She’s already had a rough morning. Besides, I did this to myself. I was the only one who drove a wedge between us; it’ll bemyjob to get it back out.

Freya sits on the edge of the bed as I stand to take a shower and get ready for the day. I hope she will follow me there and seek solace in my arms. In reality, she won’t. I’ve destroyed the trust we built when I left her alone for all that time. I just needed time to figure myself out. I don’t know what there was to figure out because the only answer I found was that we belong together. We work better together. When she’s around, my mind is… calm?

I turn the shower off and step out. She flutters through the room, stopping to watch as I dry myself off. Freya catches me staring back at her and moves out of view again. I walk into the bedroom to find her sitting on the bench at the end of the bed, her head hanging low, as I start to dress.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly.

I hope she says yes, because only then will I understand how deeply rooted her traumas run.

“No. Please don’t make me talk about it. I’m just trying to forget about it,” She responds, her breath ragged as I slip a black t-shirt over my head.

I choose not to respond because the only thing on my mind is finding that motherfucker and bringing him to his knees. After I’m dressed, I head towards the door. She stands quickly and clutches my arm.

“Where are you going?” She sounds panicked.

I turn my body towards her. Remorse for my actions eats at me again as she stands there looking even more small and fragile than she usually does. Her eyes cast downwards as I gaze at her. She keeps hold of my arm like it’s a security blanket.

“I’m going to make a cup of coffee. I thought maybe we could go out and spend the day together. I felt bad leaving you here alone all week.” That last part slips out before I can stop it.

She looks at me, and how her eyes light up makes my heart drop. I would doanythingfor this woman; that much is certain. She nods vigorously and moves to the closet to prepare for the day.

I lay back down in bed, watching her move across the room. I might’ve fucked up worse than I thought. She seems like she’s slipped into a bad headspace during my absence. I should not have tried to back away from her like I did. Freya needs me just as much as I need her.

Isshefalling in love with me too?

We slip into the car and make our way to the little downtown area of our new home.

“So, where are we exactly?” Freya asks as she takes in the striking scenery of the mountains surrounding us.

“Crested Butte, Colorado,” I responded, glancing over at her.

She’s clenching her thighs together, forcing me to look away. I can’t give in to her completely. I need to hold myself back from her still.

We park along the main street and start walking. She looks at my hand as we pass by antique stores and boutiques. I walk a little closer to her and grab her hand; perhaps this is what she’s been wanting. Just a little contact. We entered one boutique with a dress that caught her eye in the window. She’s shuffling along the racks of clothing while I loom over her. Another tall man, and a shorter girl, seem to be disguising themselves. I watch him closely, trying to place where I’ve seen him before. They quickly leave the store when they realize I am also watching them. My attention is brought back to Freya, who has been talking to me the whole time, but I didn’t hear a word she said.

Where the fuck have I seen him before?

A part of me wishes we hadn’t gone shopping, but it’s been soothing for her to get out of the house. I suppose it wasn’t that bad.

“Thank you for taking me out to see the town, Soren,” Freya says as we pull into the driveway. She looks at me with a soft smile on her face.

I have to grip the steering wheel much harder so I don’t lean over and kiss her right here.

“You’re welcome.” I get out quickly and move to her side to open her door.

There’s a pile of boxes towering over the front door. Freya's eyes widen, as well as mine.

Freya’s hands knot in front of her as she peeks up at me. “I didn’t realize everything would arrive at once.”

“Did you do a little retail therapy?” I chuckle, watching her rush to the front door.

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