He shakes his head slowly, pain invading his beautifully perfect face. ‘I’m so sorry, my gorgeous girl.’ The bag drops to the floor and I see defeatism grip him. ‘They own me. The consequences will be shattering if we stay.’
My whole body shakes under the sombreness of his shaky promise, my cheeks stinging and sore as I wipe at my face, searching for my strength to replace Miller’s loss of it. I’m in deep – deeper than I ever imagined. And I plan on drowning with him if necessary. I suck in an unsteady breath and pace over to him, hauling the bag up from the floor and taking his clammy hand. He lets me, but as soon as he figures where we’re headed, he stiffens and I hear the beginning of panicked breathing. He’s putting up some resistance, making it harder for me to pull him to where I need him. But we make it.
I press the call button for the lift and silently plead for it to be near the top of the building. I’m looking back to the stairwell exit constantly.
‘Olivia?’
I glance to my side, seeing Gregory has joined William. He looks lost. Confused. Shocked. I smile at him, trying to ease his worry, but I know I’ve failed. ‘I’ll call,’ I promise, just as the doors slide open and Miller steps back, taking me with him. ‘Please tell Nan I’m okay.’
I throw the bag into the lift and turn, taking Miller’s other hand so we’re joined by both. Then I start to take slow steps back, aware our time is ticking, but more acutely aware that this is not something I can rush. He’s staring past me into the enclosed box, his whole body heaving violently, and it’s in the intensity of this moment that I wonder how I could have been so cruel those times I used this fear against him. I fight off the tears that the guilt spikes and continue with my backward steps until our arms are at full length and the space between our bodies is wide.
‘Miller,’ I say quietly, desperate for him to focus on me instead of the monster he sees behind me. ‘Look at me,’ I plead. ‘Just look at me.’ My voice quivers, no matter how greatly I’m trying to keep it together. Relief swamps me when he takes a tentative step forward, but then he starts shaking his head furiously and takes two steps back. He’s swallowing repeatedly and his hands are becoming increasingly hot. The waves of his lovely hair are becoming heavy under the weight of the sweat pouring from his scalp, his forehead, just about everywhere.
‘I can’t,’ he pants, gulping. ‘I can’t do it.’
I look across to William and see concern as he constantly checks his phone and looks to the stairwell, and when I look to Gregory, I see something that I’ve never seen from my best friend when Miller is in the picture. Compassion. I bite my lip as the tears begin to fall, choking on a sob when he looks at me and gives me eyes full of encouragement. Then he nods. It’s only just detectable, but I see it and I understand it. I feel hopeless. I need to get Miller out of this building.
‘You go,’ Miller says, pushing me into the elevator. ‘I’ll be fine, you go.’
‘No!’ I yell. ‘No, you are not giving up!’ I throw myself onto him, snaking my arms around him and silently vowing never to let go. I don’t miss the let-up in tension from his body under my hold.
My thing.
His thing.
Our thing.
I squeeze him, my lips on his neck and his face in my hair. Then I let go and pull more forcefully on his hand, begging with my eyes for him to come to me. And he does. He takes one slow step forward. Then another. Then another. Then another. He’s on the threshold. I’m in the lift. He’s trembling, still gulping, and the sweat is relentless.
And then I hear a loud sound from the stairwell, followed by William’s colourful curse, and I do what instinct tells me and yank Miller into the lift before smashing the button for the second floor and throwing my arms around his gasping body, immersing him in our thing.
The frantic pace of his heart beating in his chest must be verging on dangerous. I’m looking over his shoulders to the hallway as it slowly disappears with the closing of the doors, and the last thing I see before we’re alone in the terrifying box is William and Gregory stepping into sight, both watching quietly as Miller and I vanish from view. I smile at them through my sadness.
It wouldn’t be a surprise if the ferocity of his heartbeat hitting my chest leaves bruises. It’s relentless, no matter how hard I squeeze him. My attempts to calm him are fruitless. All I need to do is concentrate on keeping him upright until we reach the second floor, which right now is easy. He’s rigid as I watch the digital monitor tick down through the floors, each number seeming to take aeons to appear. We’re in slow motion. Everything seems to be in slow motion.