The Past
Hunter age twenty-one
Isabel age twenty
The heavens cry for Tyler as the mahogany casket lowers into the wet earth. Isabel’s fragile body is wracked with violent sobs that shatter me completely. I stand a few feet away from her but it might as well be a million. Isabel is as far away from me as she can get.
She deserves better.
I’m going to give her better.
The thick grey clouds billow across the overcast sky, an ocean of teardrops falling down on me.
My eyes close while the heavens weep.
***
I gaze out at Isabel’s house through the rain streaked windshield of my truck, debating on going in. I’ve been sitting out here for an hour, at a loss of words. What do I possibly say to her when I see her? How do I explain the years of cruelty towards her? How will she understand everything I’ve had to sacrifice was for her benefit?
I don’t know if she ever will.
I don’t know if our relationship can be salvaged.
But I have to try.
Everything that I’ve sacrificed would be for nothing if I don’t have the courage to face her right now. My strong intuition tells me that she needs me as much as I need her. We need each other. I have to make the first move.
Stepping into the heavy rain, I slam my truck door and take her porch steps one at a time. A bundle of nervous set low in my belly, causing me to become a bit anxious. My limbs feel as weighty as stone. Hopefully, when I reach the door, I’ll have everything I’ve wanted to say to Isabel in one explainable sentence.
But the only things that come me is how much I love her and how I would do anything in my power to protect her.
My heart pounds painfully inside my chest as I knock. No one answers. I knock three more times. I’m greeted with ear-shattering silence. I walk to the edge of her porch and peek around the corner to make sure her car is there. The white Lexus is parked in the lot, unmoved.
Isabel’s home.
She either doesn’t want to answer or something’s wrong.
I’m going to find out.
It doesn’t take me long to kick the knob off the door and burst through. “Isabel!” The lights are out and the furnished house is empty and shadowed in blackness, but I continue to call out her name, searching throughout the darken corridors and rooms upstairs. Isabel’s room is the last one I haven’t checked yet. Subconsciously, somewhere in the back of my mind I know that whatever lies beyond the barrier of her bedroom door is nothing less than tragedy that horrifying nightmares are made from. Dread infuses with my blood, pumping through my veins. The pulsing in my ears grows louder. My breath comes in fast spurts when I reach down and pull open the door.
Her bedroom is bathed in darkness that’s too deep for any shadow to exist.
But there is a soft yellowing light spilling from the half closed door of her bathroom, breaking into thick obscurity. “Isabel!”
No answer.
“Isabel!” My voice is anxious, even panicked now as I take slow, indecisive steps towards the golden buttery light. I reach the door. “Isabel.” I croak out her name from my dry throat. Taking a deep breath, I push the door fully open, my eyes darting to the pill bottle on the tub countertop.
My heart stops and my legs buckle when I witness her entire body is submerged under water; her eyes closed and her hands at her side. It’s mesmerizing to watch as her dark hair sways like living seaweed around her body. She looks so peaceful, like a sleeping angel.
My Isabel.
My Dark Angel…
My senses return and I jump over the countertop of the tub, hurling myself into the murky water. It sloshes over and spills on the floor. Settling behind her, I lift her warm naked body up so that her back rests against my chest.
“Isabel.”
Her face is ghostly pale and her head is swaying back and forth wildly from her unconsciousness. Gripping her jaw, I force my fingers into her mouth and press down her throat. She sharply jolts forward. Hot vomit sprays out her mouth and on my legs.
She chokes on a sob breaking through her chest.
I wish I knew the exact words to speak to her, but I don’t.
I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her securely to me, my arms like steal bands around the only girl I’ve loved.
“I’m scared,” she whimpers incoherently through her tears. “I’m scared and lonely. I’m lonely forever. I don’t want to be lonely anymore. Please.” She pauses to breathe through her hiccups. “I don’t want to be lonely. Please. I need someone. I need someone who loves me. No one loves me.”
I brush my lips across her left shoulder, wanting to declare how much I love her, how much I am in love with her.
Instead of saying anything, I gather her in my arms and lift her from the tub. She cries softly when I lay her on her bed. Stepping away, I find a towel to dry her off. I towel dry her beautiful hair and her fragile body. She inhales sharply and tenses when I wipe between her legs, her body going completely still.
“Please stop. Please. Please.”
Never, I want to tell her.
Not tonight, I tell myself, leaving her briefly to get her clothes.
Clutching the soft material of her cotton panties in my fisted hand, I stare at this stunning angel that has fallen from heaven’s grace. Isabel’s been through a lifetime of pain and heartache. I put her through most of it. It’s time I take care of her. It’s time I make it up to Isabel. I put her feet through the underwear, dragging them up her toned legs. She stays immobile and I need some help from her with this part.
“Lift your hips,” I order.
She continues to cry softly doing as she’s told. Moving quickly, I dress her in a pair of worn jeans that hang too loosely from her boney hips and then I go back to her drawers to get her a bra and shirt. Holding her bra in my hand, I glance at her bare chest and frown. I’ve dreamed about Isabel’s breasts since I knew what breasts were, but not like this.
“Can you sit up?” I ask more harshly than I intended.
She doesn’t respond.
“Isabel?”
Her eyes are vacant as she stares at the ceiling and then she shuts them tight.
I would give anything to know what she’s thinking.
This has to be surreal for her as it is for me.
My weight sinks in her mattress as I sit next to her, wrapping a hand around her upper arm to drag her into my lap. I place her limp arms through the straps of her bra, hooking it together. I put on her shirt, socks, shoes, and jacket. She’s silent for the most part, except the tears.
“Please leave,” Isabel murmurs, her eyes closed, her voice hoarse and raw.
My gaze burns into her shut eyelids for a moment.
Please leave?
I’ll never leave her again.
Isabel is my life.
She doesn’t know this yet.
But she will.
“No,” I say, zipping the zipper of jacket and pulling the hood over her head. I cuddle her in my arms like the precious gift she is. “I’m taking you home with me.”
“Please leave,” she repeats flatly.
“No, Isabel. I’m not leaving you. I’ve done enough of that already.”
She’s mine.
Isabel will learn this sooner or later.
“Please leav—”
“No! Stop speaking. Just let me take care of you. Please.”
Pressing her close to my chest, I carry her throughout the house and out into the cold rain to my truck. Isabel keeps her eyes closed shut the entire time. I strap the seatbelt over her and then slam the door. Jogging around the hood, I open the driver’s door and slide in, cranking the engine.
All I’m thinking about is getting Isabel to my house and making her better.
“Please get the bear,” she mumbles lowly to the window.
Bear?
What is she talking about?
Then it hits me.
There is a teddy bear floating in the tub. It must be important to her.
Pushing open the door, I run through the pouring rain and up to her porch. Refusing to think about Isabel’s pasty colorless body submerged in dirty water only moments before, I snatch the soaked bear from the tub and toss it in a plastic grocery bag that was lying on the kitchen table and make my way back to my truck.
I’m fucking drenched in water and vomit and I couldn’t care less.
I’m finally with the love of my life and I have her.
I’m taking her home with me.
Nothing will ever intervene in our relationship again.
Slinging the bag in her lap, I put the drive off to our new beginning.