Finding Eden

CHAPTER FIVE


Calder



The apartment was dark. I sat in the only chair I had in the place, a small wooden one that had been left in a closet by the previous tenant. There was a wild hum in my blood and my fists clenched and unclenched on my thighs. I'd gotten a hold of my emotions just enough to make it through two hours of the gallery event, every minute an exercise in pure mind over matter. My body was tensed to run across the city to Eden. She was alive. My beautiful morning glory was alive. My thoughts spun around me. I breathed out a harsh exhale as a mixture of astonishment and euphoria slammed into me for the hundredth time in the last couple hours. My skin felt clammy and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I thought I might be in a little bit of shock.
A light knock came at my door and I bolted out of the chair and flung it open. I gasped out a sound of desperation as I pulled Eden into my arms and we stood there together in my doorway holding each other again and just breathing, hers harsh and rapid as if she'd just run here. I didn't even know how long we stood there, but after a while, Eden pulled away and smiled a small, sad smile up at me, her breathing normal again.
"Your show. Were you okay?"
I nodded and led her inside, closing the door behind us. She dropped her purse on the floor next to the door. "Actually, no, not really." I scratched the back of my neck. "Watching you walk away from me . . . that was ridiculous, Eden. I should have cancelled it. Really," I let out a small, humorless laugh, "it was ridiculous."
She breathed out and shook her head. "The timing was just . . ." She shook her head again.
"Yeah, I know." My words came out in a rush.
We stood there in the dim glow of the city lights coming in through the large windows, just looking at each other. She was so unbelievably beautiful.
"Do you have lights?" she asked after a minute tilting her head and looking around the barely lit room.
I shook my head. "No, not yet. I got a rental deal on this place from a guy I work with. I've been fixing it up in exchange for low rent and no application process . . . the whole ID thing." I massaged the back of my neck. "I don't have the wiring done yet."
She nodded, her eyes moving around the large, open floor plan.
"I didn’t ask Xander where he lives."
"He lives about ten minutes from here in his own apartment. I asked him to share this place, but he thought it was time for us to get some space."
She nodded again. We were both quiet for a minute.
"Eden . . ."
She licked her lips and opened them as if she was going to say something, but then closed them, furrowing her brow. Then her face crumpled and she heaved in a big, shaky breath. "This is . . ." she let out a small sob, "strange, and it hurts. It's like we . . . and you have a . . . you have a . . ." Her shoulders shook in silent sobs.
At the sight of her tears, pain hit me in the gut, so intense it was actually physical and I jolted slightly, taking a step toward her and pulling her body into mine. "I'm so sorry. So sorry," I kept repeating.
I felt her shaking her head at my chest. "No, no, you thought I was dead, I know. You were trying to move on with your life, I know."
"No," I said loudly and then closed my eyes briefly. "No," I repeated. "I hadn't moved on, Eden. I'd have never moved on. Not ever. I just . . . I don't even know. I wasn't trying to move on, I was just trying to survive. I'm so damn sorry."
We stood there in the darkness, holding each other, moving our hands down each other's bodies as if trying to convince ourselves the other was real, not just a ghost or a dreamy apparition, a figment of our grief-filled imaginations.
I listened to her quiet breathing and clenched my eyes closed. "You still smell like apple blossoms," I whispered, inhaling her beloved scent, the one I never, ever thought I'd smell again—not in this lifetime.
She let out a small breath and I felt her lips smile against my T-shirt. Her hand clenched the fabric next to where her cheek rested.
"You smell different," she murmured. "Like laundry soap."
I shook my head and smiled. This. Was. Incredible. Holding my morning glory. I felt like I was living a dream. We were both silent for several more minutes. "We have so much to talk about."
"I know." But neither of us pulled away, and neither of us asked any questions. I felt her heartbeat against me, steady and sure, and my own sped up. Her softness pressed into me and she was real and solid and alive.
Something shifted, the molecules in the air spun faster around us. Eden lifted her head and gazed into my eyes and then before I had even decided to do it, my lips were on hers and we both moaned, a mixed sound of desperation and relief. My tongue entered her warm, wet mouth and she pressed her body to mine, as we tasted each other, re-familiarizing ourselves.
We began tearing at each other's clothes, shaky, desperate, with no finesse at all. I walked her backward until she slammed up against the wall, a whoosh sound coming up her throat. I drank it down, pressing into her harshly. She pressed back against me, gripping handfuls of my hair and tugging.
I pulled away and lifted my shirt off my body in one swift movement and then lifted Eden's over her head, too. She gasped out.
I unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall, and Eden tripped over her own feet as she bent to remove her own jeans. I caught her, going down sideways to the hardwood floor. We hit with a thud and both grunted out in discomfort. Under other circumstances, it might have been comical, but for me, in that moment, there was only fear and an achy, clawing need. It was almost as if we both wanted to open each other's skin and crawl inside, bury ourselves so deeply that it would be impossible to ever separate us again.
When we were completely undressed and skin-to-skin, we both sighed out again and our kisses grew slower, deeper, some of the desperate need quenched, at least for that moment.
I held her face gently in my hands, one elbow holding me up on the floor as I leaned over her. She brought her hand down and gripped my erection in her fist and I groaned and pressed myself into her hand. It had been so long since I had felt this way—it was still the same. Eden still brought out the same fiery need in me that made me feel as if flames were licking up the inside of my skin.
She pulled me on top of her a little more and wrapped her legs around my hips. We were both trembling, the sounds we were making small, gaspy declarations of our joy, or distress, or aching want. I didn't even know—maybe all of those and even more.
All the things we'd been through together swirled around just at the perimeter of my mind, speeding up my blood, my fear, my longing. Then all the excruciating anguish of the past three years without her invaded my thoughts. Our tears mixed as we kissed, making her taste both sweet and salty.
My desperation to push into her body twisted me inside out. But I took a steadying breath.
I would protect her this time.
I broke from her mouth and reached for my jeans where I took out my wallet and with shaking fingers, removed a condom. I looked back at her and ripped it open with my teeth. Her eyes registered the recognition of what I was doing and grew large with grief. Her face crumpled and her shoulders started shaking slightly as more tears fell. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry." Whether it was because the condom was an acknowledgment of the agony she'd endured because we hadn't known enough to be careful the first time, or whether it was simply the fact that I had one at all, I wasn't exactly sure. I could only figure it was probably a mixture of both.
She nodded her head. "I know, I know," she whispered. It was as if Eden heard my internal thoughts and was answering both concerns. As if she still knew my heart well enough and forgave me for the ways I'd failed her. My morning glory. Once I'd rolled the condom on, she pulled me down to her again and kissed me deeply. When I plunged inside of her, she broke from my mouth and tipped her head back, gasping out. Oh God, oh God. The feeling was exquisite, blindingly beautiful. She was exquisite. My vision grew blurry, stars burst before my eyes. I grunted and began to move, the pleasure so intense, goosebumps broke out on my entire body.
"Eden, Eden, I was dead without you. Oh God, I've been walking around like a ghost—half in this world, and half in the other. Eden . . ." I moaned out the words, all of them flowing together so that I wasn't even completely sure if I'd said them out loud or if they'd just flown through my own mind in a burst of firing synapses.
Eden pulled me closer, clenching her legs around me tighter and moaned out, "Yes, yes." I didn't know if she was answering me or just moaning out her pleasure. I licked up the side of her neck, the sweet and salty taste of her skin exploding on my tongue. I wanted to devour her. I groaned and pumped inside her harder and faster, our skin slapping together and her back making loud contact with the wood beneath her. She gripped handfuls of my hair, pulling roughly as she gasped out.
And then we were nothing but a tangled, gasping, moaning blur of skin and heat and mouths and thrusting pleasure. Everything about it was surreal. Somewhere far off in the distance, my brain registered the strange harshness of how we were going about this, but it felt so necessary to my existence that I didn't investigate the thought. I couldn't investigate the thought. I had my girl in my arms. Nothing else mattered. I just let the relief wash over me, our joining bringing a calm I needed so desperately I was animalistic in my pursuit of it.
I felt Eden tense under me as she arched her head back and cried out her climax. Her hands came to my back and she scraped her fingernails down my skin so hard, I was sure she had drawn blood. For some reason it inflamed me even further and I swelled inside her. Her breathy sounds of dwindling pleasure brought on my own and bliss swirled in my abdomen, moving downward until I tensed and jerked inside her, groaning into the sweetness of her throat.
We both lay there for several long minutes, our breathing slowing, our heartbeats taking up an even, steady rhythm. I leaned up and looked down into her face. Her expression was gentle, but still sad. I smoothed the hair away from her face and leaned forward and kissed her again softly. I slid out of her and rolled over onto my back, bringing her with me.
I took a deep breath. Again, we lay there together for several minutes, my hands running up and down her arms as she held on to me tightly. When I registered I was still wearing a condom, I said softly, "Let me get rid of this real quick." I nodded my head downward and she sat up.
After I'd cleaned myself up and wrapped a towel around my waist, I stood against the bathroom wall, just trying to get control of my racing heart, massaging my chest as if something inside had broken.  Or perhaps was piecing itself back together.
When I came back from the bathroom, Eden had pulled her clothes back on and was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows staring out at the night. I stopped and just stood there for a minute watching her, bathed in moonlight and city lights, my heart squeezing in my chest.
"It's how I've always loved you best," I said.
She turned, cocking her head to the side in question.
"Under moonlight," I said, walking toward her.
She smiled softly.
"For a minute, standing there, I thought you were a vision and I had made this all up in my mind. Will I ever stop thinking that?"
She turned toward me and shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know how this works. I never imagined—"
"Didn't you ever think I might be alive? Even for a minute?"
She shook her head. "I saw the wreckage, Calder. I watched it all come crashing in. I saw the bodies, the water still covering it all. I . . ." She took in a big, shaky breath. "That was the moment I died inside." Her eyes widened in horror as if she was picturing it, feeling the emotions of that moment again. Instinct made me reach out to her and grab her hands. "There was no way . . ." She choked out a small sob. "I left you there," she whispered, misery etched into her beautiful features. "Oh God, Calder," she brought her hand to her mouth and then dropped it, "I left you there." She shook her head back and forth as if in denial. "I'll never, ever forgive myself. As long as I live, I'll never—"
I pulled her toward me and held her against my chest. "Shh," I said, rubbing my hand over her hair. "There was no way you could have known. I saw the wreckage on the news. I wouldn't have had any hope either. I promise you, I don't blame you for assuming no one could have survived that." She nodded her head, but still looked miserable when she pulled away. "Let's go sit," I said, leading her toward the wall to the right of the windows. "I'm sorry I don't have any furniture."
She sat down on the floor, leaning back against the wall. I dropped the towel and pulled on my discarded jeans and went and sat down next to her, pulling her against me. When my back hit the wall, I could feel the sting of the wounds she had caused with her fingernails. I wanted to sigh out with the somehow wonderful feel of the pain, proof she existed. I realized in that moment that it had been the same with the emotional pain, too. All these years, something in me had grasped onto it, not ever wanting to let it go. Truthfully, a big part of me had wanted to dive into the anguish and drown in it. I had wanted it to torture me, bury me alive. A part of me loved it, because it was all I had of her.
She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned in to my body. I took a minute to let my soul rejoice, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair.
"Xander told me how you got out," she said in a whisper.
I nodded, pulling her closer, allowing myself to remember. "When I was dragged to that cell, I was mostly unconscious. I . . . well, you saw the state I was in. I'd been shot, too. I didn't even realize it until I tried to stand." She looked up at me sadly, but didn't say anything. After a second, she laid her head back down on my shoulder. "I lost a lot of blood, but I only have a scar to show for it now." I sighed out, going silent for a minute. Eden waited.
"I thought I was going to die. I figured it was a given. And I almost felt a certain . . . acceptance. I came to here and there and I heard the screams. I just kept thinking that you were out there somewhere among them, and it tore my guts out, Eden. I don't even want to go back there in my mind to describe it to you."
She squeezed my waist and said very quietly. "It's okay, you don't have to. I know."
I nodded, feeling the sadness settle around me. "I'm so sorry. What you went through. And I wasn't there."
She looked up at me again and put her fingers to my lips. "There was literally not one more thing you could have done. You fought with all your might, everything you had in you. You don't think I know that?"
"And it wasn't enough!" I choked out.
She let go of my waist and turned toward me and put her forehead to mine and we just breathed together for a minute. "It was enough. We're both here. Do you see that now? It was enough. Whatever we did, it ended up being enough. We've already forgiven each other. Maybe we can manage to forgive ourselves now, too."
Tears were running down Eden's face again and she swiped at them. "Hector put us both in the only two places in that hellhole where there was enough air to survive. The gods forgot to mention that little tidbit of information to him." She let out a very small, humorless laugh. I looked up at her and then laughed a small laugh, too.
We were both silent for a minute. "The cave in," she finally said. "Were you conscious then?"
"No. After the screaming, I don't remember anything until I heard Xander's voice above me. He says I was banging something and that's how he knew where to look for me in the debris, but I don't remember that. The next thing I knew, I was waking up at a friend of Kristi's." He grimaced. "I didn't even want to be alive. I was so damned pissed I was alive. I think I still was, until about two hours ago."
Eden sighed, shaking her head and bringing her hand to my cheek again for a second before bringing it away. "I know about that, too," she whispered.
We were both silent, just staring into each other's eyes for a few moments. "Tell me the rest," she finally said.
"Kristi's former roommate was a medical student. She told him a story about me being in a gang. Anyway," I sighed, running my hand through my hair, "he fixed me up the best he could and a week later, Xander and I got on a bus and came here."
A look of grief passed over Eden's features and she shook her head slowly. "Three years and we've been in the same city all along."
I felt the same grief and regret fill my chest. "Yeah," was all I could manage to croak out.
We were both quiet for a minute. "Eden . . ." I looked into her eyes. "You know it was my water system that caused the flood, right?" I already figured she must. The re-enactment of what the police thought happened that day had been on the news over and over again. Of course, they weren't there. We were. And only I knew that they had gotten a few things wrong.
Eden's expression gentled. "It was Hector who caused the flood. He just happened to use your water system to . . . deliver the water from the rising river right over the cellar so that when the rain came . . ." She trailed off, not finishing that thought.
I put my head down and massaged the back of my neck. "I built that system." I looked up at her. "And Eden, Hector didn't rig it. I'm the one who kicked it over. It wasn't Hector, it was me. I kicked it over in a fit of rage."
Eden blinked at me. "Oh, Calder," she whispered.
"See, it was my fault. If I hadn't done that, all those people—"
"Stop," she said, her voice rising. "You didn't do that on purpose, you had no way of knowing what would happen. That is not your burden to bear." She brought her fingers to my chin and tipped my face up so that I was looking straight into her face again. "That system was your longing for more, Calder. That system was beautiful, despite what happened. I'll never believe anything different."
Guilt and love washed through me simultaneously—guilt for my part in the tragedy that day, and love for who she was and what was shining out of her eyes. "Still my morning glory," I murmured.
Her eyes moved over my face, filled with tenderness. After a short pause, she continued, "And the thing that wasn't on the news? The thing that only I know is that Hector swallowed the key to the cellar. He swallowed it. He didn't just lock the door, he swallowed the key." She let out a small, disgusted laugh and then her face went very serious. "He was never going to let those people out, whether they wanted out or not. And Calder, most of them, even at the end, they didn't. They believed. That's no fault of yours."
I blinked at Eden. I didn't know what to feel about that piece of information, that Hector had swallowed the key. On one hand, it filled me with horror, and on the other hand, it brought me a small measure of peace about my own part in the tragedy. Xander had told me again and again that it wasn't my fault, but seeing the same thing shining out of Eden's expression, fierce and honest, brought me a peace I'd been longing for. My brave, sweet morning glory.
"Tell me how you got out," I finally said.
Eden sighed and looked out the windows, and an expression that I had trouble reading came over her face. "Thinking back, it doesn't seem real," she said. And then she told me everything that she'd gone through that night, floating in the pitch blackness as the screams and calls for help ceased in gurgles and death on the other side of the wall right next to her. My heart bled and a lump rose up in my throat so large I thought it might choke me. I felt horrified, sick—my gut was wrenched—and yet, beyond that was pride. I was so proud of her. And not only had she survived, but she had done so using the knowledge I gave her. Somehow, a part of me had been there in that room with her. The thought soothed me, bringing me some small measure of peace.
She told me how she'd come here, about Felix and Marissa, about teaching piano, finding out about her mom, going to her door, and I listened to it all, incredulous and in awe of her strength, in awe of her resilience. Yet, she looked so sad. I could see that she'd still felt alone.
As she finished her story, she tilted her head and studied me for a minute. I must have looked shell-shocked.
"I thought you were strong," I said. "But I didn't know the half of it."
She smiled and then looked around my apartment. "Xander said you two have been doing construction work. Is that where you learned to do what you've done around here?" She waved her arm, indicating the room around us.
I cleared my throat, taking note that she was changing the subject. Maybe we both needed it. It was a lot to process. It might take a lifetime to process. "Yeah. I do more roofing now actually."
A worried expression crossed her face. "Yeah, Xander mentioned that, too." She paused for a minute. "But now your art—"
"I haven't made a dime off my art yet."
"But you will," she said, her voice full of conviction.
We stared at each other again for a minute.
My cell phone, sitting on the floor next to us buzzed and lit up and I glanced at it and saw Madison's name come up and the message: I'm worried. Come home, on the screen. I reached over quickly and turned it off, but when I looked back at Eden, her eyes were on the phone and I could tell she had seen it. Her eyes moved slowly to mine, full of hurt and I wanted to throw the damn phone through one of my windows.
"Eden . . ."
"Home? You've been living with her?" she asked quietly.
I shook my head. "No. I mean," I shook my head again, "shit. I was staying with her while I was finishing up this place—just temporarily. As you can see," I waved my hand around the dim apartment, "it's not exactly habitable."
Eden bit her lip, her eyes large pools of sorrow. "Do you love her?" she asked so quietly I almost couldn't make out her words.
"No. I don't. I . . ." Gods, God, this was awful, horrible in every way possible. I wanted to scream and smash something. I took a deep breath. "I love you. I'll never love anyone except you."
"But you're with her," she said. It wasn't a question, just a statement, and she said it matter-of-factly. She looked behind me for a minute and then back at my face. "You thought I was dead, Calder. I understand."
"No! I don't want you to understand. It's not understandable. I don't even understand it."
Eden sighed and started to stand up, stretching her legs once she did. I leapt up, too. Eden came toward me and put her hand on my cheek. "We have so much more to talk about." She smiled sadly. "We could talk for days and still not have told each other every bit of what we've gone through." She chewed on her lip for a minute. "But, Calder, right now, we both need to get some sleep." She walked over to her purse and took a phone out and texted someone, the girl who'd been with her at the gallery, I assumed.
"Sleep here," I blurted out, moving toward her and gripping her arms as she turned around. There was no way I could watch her walk out my door. The thought of it alone filled me with terror, just as it had earlier at the gallery. "Stay with me. Don't leave."
She shook her head, looking around. "I'm not leaving you. I'm just not going to sneak around with you. You have a life." She bit her lip, looking down. "I don't blame you for that. But—"
"I know," I said, feeling as if my heart was breaking open in my chest. "We deserve more than that."
"Yes," she said.
My phone buzzed again and I closed my eyes tightly and then opened them. Eden glanced at the phone and then back at me. "You need to go home, too," she said quietly. Her voice had a hitch at the word home and it felt like a splinter to my heart.
"I want you, Eden. I've never wanted anyone except for you," I said quietly. "I'm so damn sorry for this situation."
Eden took a deep breath and gave me a small, sad smile. "My mom is throwing some small garden party tomorrow for me." She shook her head. "Just some really close friends who can be discreet about me returning. Anyway, I should be done with that at six o'clock or so. Maybe we can get together?" she asked, running her tongue over her bottom lip.
"Yeah, of course," I said, "I mean, anything, just tell me. Tell me what to do here," I said, noting the desperation in my own voice. "I don't know what to do here."
She studied me for a minute and then she nodded. "I'll call you when it's over."
"Okay." My phone buzzed again and I almost went over to it and smashed it beneath my foot.
Eden must have seen the anger on my face because she said softly, "She's innocent in this situation, too." I stared at her. Still my compassionate girl.
I let out a harsh breath and ran my hand through my hair and said, "Yeah."
Eden leaned forward and kissed me softly and it was everything I could do not to grab her by her shoulders and force her to stay in my apartment. I felt desperate and miserable and joyful all at the same time.
After a few minutes, Eden's phone beeped and she looked down at it. "That's Molly," she said. All I could do was nod. She smiled one more small smile at me and then we moved together, wrapping our arms around each other and just standing that way for what seemed like a long time, but not nearly long enough. When she finally pulled away, she gave me one last sad smile and then the door clicked behind her.
I walked back through my apartment, finally sinking down to the floor against the same wall we'd sat against together. I spread my legs out straight and just breathed. I couldn't think of much else to do.
After a while I reached for my phone and texted Madison, telling her I was staying at my apartment. Then I turned it off. I sat back, pressing my wounded back against the wall, closing my eyes in relief at the small flash of pain. That's where I finally fell asleep close to dawn.

**********

I woke up with a stiff neck and a pounding in my head. I sat up slowly and realized that the pounding was actually coming from my front door. I pulled myself to a standing position and massaged my neck as I walked toward the banging. "Hold on!" I yelled, my voice cracking like it usually did first thing in the morning. I cleared my throat and swung the door open. Madison.
She walked straight through the door, looking around, then turned and faced me. "Is she here?"
"No," I said softly, walking toward the kitchen where I had a small battery-powered coffee pot and some coffee. I went about the business of brewing a pot as Madison stood at the counter and watched me. She didn't say a word. Once I was done and the smell of coffee started filling the room, I leaned against the counter facing Madison. "I'm sorry," I said.
Hurt skittered across her features and she nodded, looking down. I walked over to her and took her in my arms, hugging her to me. "I'm sorry," I repeated. I didn't know what else to say.
We stood there for a while like that until her hands started roaming up my back, kneading the muscles, and her lips came to my throat, feathering kisses along the skin. I pulled away. "Mad . . ."
She dropped her hands to her sides, letting them hang loosely there. "What? I can't touch you anymore?"
I ran my hand through my hair and took a deep breath and then met her eyes. "No. I'm sorry, no."
"Why?" she asked, her expression pained. I felt like the biggest a*shole on the face of the earth.
"Because if you touch me now, I'm cheating on her. And I would never cheat on her." I grimaced. It was the truth, but I hated hurting Madison. She'd been nothing but good to me. I cared about her.
She looked incredulous. "Cheating on her?" Her mouth gaped open. "You're f*cking cheating on ME! Did you f*ck her?"
My jaw tensed. "Stop, Madison."
"Stop? You a*shole! What should I stop? Should I stop wanting you? Should I stop fighting to keep you? Would you have me just slink out of your life so it's more convenient for you to be with her?" She shook her head, putting her hands on her hips.
"I meant stop making this worse than it already is! Don't you think I know what a f*cked situation this is? Don't you think I know what an a*shole I am? What am I supposed to do here? For the love of the f*cking gods! God! F*ck!" I turned and walked back around the counter, putting my palms on its surface and leaning forward, hanging my head.
"You're supposed to stay with me. You're supposed to see that she's your past and I'm your future. You're supposed to realize that all the two of you are going to do is drag each other back there, back to hell. Is that what you want? Someone who you look at each day and remember only tragedy and trauma? Whose very face you can't even paint because you can't bear to look at it?"
I raised my head and studied her face. She was beautiful, there was no doubt there, but her face didn't make my heart clench with fierce love. Only one face did that. Only one face ever had, since the time I was ten years old. Only one face ever would.
"I do paint her face, Madison. I just don't share it."
Madison's expression fell and another stab of guilt hit me. She took a deep breath. "Still, all she'll do is remind you of the worst day of your life."
"That's not how it would be, Mad." But deep inside, her words affected me. Is that how it would be? If not for me, for her? Did she deserve to move on? Explore her own life without me, and without the grief she'd been carrying? She had shared a little of how her life had been, but it sounded like she had little purpose, little direction. Was she able to move forward? Did she deserve a chance to find out?
Madison let out a sound of frustration. "You don't think that now, but it is exactly how it would be." She frowned. "At least take some time. You don't have to feel a duty to be with her. You don't owe her anything, Calder. You can still be friends, but come home with me. Please. Take some time."
I stared at her, not saying anything, not knowing what to say.
She looked down. "I'm sorry," I repeated. I moved forward and took her hands in mine across the counter. I shook my head, trying to come up with the right words. "I know Eden and I, we went through hell together. But . . . it wasn't all that. In fact, it wasn't even mostly that." I shook my head again, and took my hands away, raking them through my hair. "I don't even know if I could explain to someone who wasn't there, what it was like for us."
I had told Madison about Acadia, but not all of it. She knew what I'd gone through, and I appreciated the fact I'd been able to talk about some of it with someone other than Xander. I trusted her. But how could I tell her what I'd experienced with Eden? It wouldn't be right, and it wouldn't be kind, and somewhere inside, I wanted to keep it for myself anyway. It was ours – Eden's and mine. It was sacred.
"You don't need to explain it to me. I see your art. Every day, I see your art," she said. "Do you think I don't know how hung up on her you are . . . were, whatever. I just . . . please, take some time to think about this. Take some time to consider things once your emotions have settled. Please, baby." A tear ran down her cheek and I swiped it away with my thumb. She smiled softly at me.
I took a deep breath, confusion swirling through me. I knew she saw my art, or some of it, at least. But did she really see me? Did she see how I ached? How I felt incomplete? Empty? I turned to get two cups out of my cabinet and poured us both coffee and handed one to her.
"I didn't exactly plan any of this," I said. "It's just . . ."
Madison took a deep breath and then was quiet for a minute. "I know," she finally said, looking down at her coffee before bringing her eyes back up to mine. "I'm here to help, okay?"
I wasn't exactly sure what she meant by that, but I nodded. "Thanks."
Madison sighed and picked up her coffee cup, taking a sip. She looked away from me, back out the windows. "You sold every piece last night," she finally said softly, still not looking at me.
I took a step back. "I sold every piece? What?"
Madison looked back at me and let out a small smile. "Yeah, every damn one. Sold out. You left after the first couple sold, but the rest of them went soon after. And you leaving was actually a brilliant move. You're 'unattainable' now, a 'sensitive artist' who can't stand crowds. Brilliant. It's like I planned it myself." But hurt washed over her face. I knew it hadn't ended in a way she would have planned.
"Mad—"
Madison shook her head and waved a hand in front of her. "I'm going to go now. Call me later, okay?" She looked at me gently, smoothing her skirt down her thighs. She stepped around the counter and kissed me on the cheek, then took a deep breath and turned.
"Wait, Madison," I said, setting my own cup down and walking quickly around the counter. She turned, the look on her face simultaneously hurt and calm. "Please know that I never, ever wanted to hurt you," I said lamely. "You've been so good to me in every way. I'll never stop appreciating all the ways you helped me, and I don't just mean with my art."
She closed her eyes and seemed to need the moment to work out her response. She then looked down at the floor. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes and she nodded her head. "Talk to you soon." Then she turned on her heels and walked out my door.
I stood staring at the closed door, trying to sort out my mind. Was Madison right? Did Eden and I have a future? I had failed her once. I wouldn't do it again. I scrubbed my hands down my face and went back to the kitchen to finish my coffee and figure out my life.