by Loretta Lost
“You’re still innocent,” he whispers, “and I still want to break you.”
I finally remember how to breathe, and I remove the phone from my ear. I press the button to end the call, but it takes me a moment to find it with my shaking hands. I take several deep breaths as I lower my head to the pillow. I curl my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself. It has never taken such a great effort just to breathe. I can feel the tension in my shoulders and thighs as my body feels strangely stiff and locked into place.
All my beautiful thoughts have been chased away.
I can’t think about work anymore. I can’t think about anything. I don’t want to think about anything. If I ponder his words, it will drive me insane. There is no sense to them; they are just ramblings of a madman. But more terrifying is the fact that there might be some logic in them. What if I did take a moment to think about what he said, and I understood him?
What if it really is my fault? What if I brought out the worst in him? What if I do the same to Liam? What if that’s my curse, and no one will ever love me? What if there’s just something about me that people can’t stand? What if I really do have this strange aura he’s talking about?
All I know is that I’m going to have to change my number again. And maybe my name.
Maybe I should assume an entirely new identity.
Maybe I should go home. Maybe I should find a new home, even further away.
Maybe I should just...
Maybe...
“Helen. My sweet Helen. You’re an angel. Such fragile innocence...”
A hand slides gently over my hip.
I instantly snap awake, and grab the person’s wrist. My heart begins pounding fiercely.
“Whoa,” Liam says softly. “It’s just me.”
Sharp pain shoots through my chest as my heart struggles to go from a peaceful resting state to instant fight mode. I have to remind myself to breathe as my body feels paralyzed with fear. My hand is still clenched tightly around his wrist. “Liam?” I ask nervously, unable to relax my fist.
“Yes. Who else would it be?”
I let my head fall back onto the pillow and release him, pressing a hand against my racing heart. It takes me a moment before the pain subsides and I can catch my breath. My heart is beating so uncontrollably that I swear I can hear the pounding in my ears. “I just... I had a bad dream,” I tell him weakly.
“What happened?” he asks me, slipping his arm around my waist.
I swallow in embarrassment at the answer. “The same thing that always happens.” His touch is slightly comforting, and I try to let my body relax. This extreme anxiety can’t be healthy. It never used to happen to me when I was younger, but lately, my heart seems to behave like an engine being pushed to the limit whenever I’m given a fright.
Liam moves closer to me so that the warmth of his body is pressed along my back. “I’m sorry,” he says tenderly. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”
After a moment’s silence, I bite down into my lip. “It was worse this time. Just like he promised it would be.”
“He promised?” Liam asks.
I reach up to run my fingers through my hair as I release a shuddering breath. “Grayson called me earlier. He was told to apologize and make peace. That’s not what he did.”
“Oh, Winter,” Liam says, holding me closer and pressing a kiss against my neck.
“I think that I should probably go home,” I whisper, turning so that my cheek rests against his face. “There are too many people here. I can hear your neighbors through the walls, but at home it’s just quiet. I can’t take this. I can’t even take a goddamn phone call or you touching me without jumping out of my skin.”
Liam kisses my cheek before resting his head against mine. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. I was thinking about what you said about your sister. That you were looking for a reason to stay. I spoke to Owen about my ideas, and he helped me make a plan. I want to be the one to give you a reason to stay.”
A tired smile touches my lips. “That’s sweet, but—”
“No buts,” Liam says, kissing my lips to cut off my sentence. “Give me two weeks. If I can’t give you tons of great reasons to stay in that time, I’ll drive you home myself.”
I cuddle closer against him. “Deal. Then I get to give you reasons to stay in the forest with me.”
He laughs lightly. “You think I should sell my apartment and run away with you?”
“Definitely,” I tell him. “We could find a little cave somewhere and become cave-people. You could grow a huge beard and wield a gigantic club.”
“As long as you’re there, it sounds charming,” Liam says, nuzzling my neck. “I’m in a really great mood tonight.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“You know the last time I came home from work and there was a pretty girl in my bed, wearing my t-shirt?”
“I don’t know. A few weeks?”
“Never.”
I make a skeptical sound. “I don’t believe you,” I say with a lifted eyebrow.
“It’s true,” he assures me. “I also have some really good news that might cheer you up.”
“Oh?”
“I stopped by your dad’s and picked up your computer,” he tells me.
I sigh with relief, immediately turning over to give him a hug. “Thank you,” I say softly. “That does make me feel better.”
“I also picked up all your stuff. I talked to your dad a little, and he gave me a gift for you.” Liam moves away slightly to retrieve something, and I miss his body heat for the moment he isn’t pressed against me.
When he returns, I find myself clinging to him and quickly grow annoyed with myself for being so needy. Get a grip, I tell myself—but he’s so comfortable that I ignore this command and nestle closer to him anyway. I find that he’s sliding a piece of paper into my hand.
“What’s this?” I ask him curiously.
“A sealed envelope for you,” he informs me, “from your dad.”
“Why did he bother sealing the envelope? You’re just going to have to open it and tell me what’s inside,” I say with frustration. I hate the fact that I need to depend on him like this.
“I know what’s inside,” Liam says quietly. “It’s a check for five hundred thousand dollars.”
I am motionless for a moment, and then I burst out laughing. “No, seriously,” I tell Liam, pressing the envelope back into his hand. “You have to open this and read it for me.”
“Winter, I’m being dead serious here. Your dad gave me that check for you, and told me to let you know that he hopes you’ll use it to stay in the neighborhood.”
I stare at Liam with my mouth slightly open in surprise. “Really?”
“He says he can get more if you need it. Just give him a call.”
“Are you—no way—are you kidding me?” I mumble, tripping over my words. I pull away from him slightly and wave the envelope between us. “Do you seriously mean to say that I am holding half a million dollars in my hand right now?”
“Yep,” Liam says cheerfully.
“Holy crap,” I say in wonder. “You’d think the envelope would be heavier.”
“I was hoping you’d be more excited,” Liam says in disappointment. “If half a million dollars can’t impress you and make you speak in capital letters, then I doubt that I can ever make you excited about anything.”
“You want capital letters? Just give a minute.” I sit up in the bed and prepare myself as though I am getting into character. I stretch my shoulders and neck and take a deep breath. “HOLY CRAP!” I say again with all the enthusiasm I can muster. I hold the check up with a surprised look on my face. “Ohmigod, ohmigod! I’m rich!”
Liam erupts into a fit of laughter at my performance.
“Do you find me more attractive now?” I ask, bringing the envelope to my chest and smiling mischievously at him. “Does my big check make up for the fact that I don’t have big boobs?”
/> “You were already devastatingly beautiful,” he tells me in a low voice, “but the money doesn’t hurt.”
“Yeah, sure,” I mumble, skeptical at his compliment. But somehow, acting excited actually did make me feel more excited about the situation. “How was that?” I ask Liam. “Capital letters and even some exclamation marks.”
“It was perfect,” he says, shifting his body so that his head rests in my lap.
“Any thoughts on what you’ll do with your newfound wealth?”
“Breast implants,” I answer immediately.
“What?” he responds in shock. “But…”
“I’m kidding,” I assure him. “I probably won’t even cash it.” I pause for a moment, running my fingers through his hair. “What would you do if someone handed you a check like that?”
“I’d probably put it toward starting a private practice with Owen,” Liam answers quickly. “It’s our biggest dream, but it might be a while before we can get there.”
“That sounds really nice,” I tell him. “It must be great to work with your best friend—especially someone as fun as he is.”
“You’d be surprised. Owen is actually very professional in the workplace. Speaking of which! I have some more good news for you.”
“Hmm?”
“Owen and I pulled some strings and called in some favors, and we were able to move your surgery dates up. So if you come in tomorrow for prep and some tests, you could have some vision by the end of the week.”
“Wow,” I say softly. “That’s very soon.”
“I figured I have to work quickly to impress you. I only have two weeks, after all.”
“That would definitely impress me, but I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Just trust me,” Liam says. “Things are going to get better from now on—in every way.” He pauses. “You should cash that check. Your dad really loves you. He doesn’t want you to leave.”
“Yes, well… I’m not sure this is the way to get me to stay,” I say awkwardly, leaning over to place the check on the bedside table. “Although it would really improve my standard of living if I went home. I could afford to have a bottle of wine more than once every two weeks. Maybe I could even get slightly more expensive wine.”
“That’s all?” Liam asks in disbelief. He shakes his head, which I feel against my thigh. “Five hundred thousand dollars, and you only want to get better wine?”
“And better food,” I say with a deep nod. “Money and luxuries don’t really mean much to me. I grew up with plenty of both. The things I really want—they can’t be purchased. But I guess it would be nice if I was no longer starving.”
“Aha! You admit it. You were starving.”
“No!” I say, trying to cover up my mistake. “I meant figuratively. I was a starving artist.”
“Winter, I saw your cupboards. You were actually starving.”
“Okay. Maybe a little.” I sigh in memory of how boring my food choices were. “There certainly weren’t any red velvet cupcakes.”
“Then stay here,” Liam urges me. “Stay here and have all the red velvet cupcakes you want. Why would you go back to that kind of life? Why would you have chosen that in the first place?”
I shrug my shoulders gently. “I wanted to punish myself.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know,” I mumble, pausing to look around in the darkness. I pull my lips tightly together before a sadistic smile comes to my face. “For being innocent, I suppose. Liam... do you think I’m innocent?”
“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “Yes. I mean, I know that you’ve seen things, and been through a lot—but you still seem to be above all this. Untouched.”
“What does that mean?” I ask him in confusion.
“You’re just...” Liam sighs and turns to places a kiss against my thigh, at the spot where his t-shirt ends and my skin begins. “You’re the most innocent girl I know—in a really wicked sort of way.”
This answer pleases and puzzles me at the same time. I touch his arm, running my hand up and down the contours of his muscles. “How do I stop?”
“Stop what?”
“Being innocent,” I say softly. “Is it something I can get rid of? Does someone have to take it from me?”
“Where is this coming from, Winter?”
I hesitate and shift uncomfortably. “Grayson said—”
“Why are you listening to that cocksucking piece of shit?” Liam asks.
I blink in surprise at his language. “Whoa.”
“Sorry,” he says as he sits up. “That guy is just really pissing me off. I still haven’t gotten my car fixed and my leg has been hurting like a bitch all day. Now I come home and hear that he’s planting shit in your head?”
The tone in Liam’s voice is harsh and angry, like I’ve never heard it before. I find myself stunned and unable to respond. I do appreciate the fact that he’s angry in my defense...
“I’m just sick of him,” Liam says angrily. “This isn’t my world—I’m not used to this crap. Isn’t life hard enough without worrying about being in physical danger? I have to worry about my mortgage, loans, and my career—you can’t even get across the street—”
“Hey,” I interrupt in a prideful way. “I can too cross the street. I was just in a rush earlier.”
“We just don’t need this. I don’t need to get shot at, and you don’t need him tormenting you. We have to permanently erase that man from your life.”
“I do need to change my phone number,” I say softly in agreement as I lie back down on the bed.
“Fuck him,” Liam says again angrily. “Nothing can take away your innocence. It’s an essential quality of who you are—something that exists deep on the inside. All the wounds that others inflict on you are only skin-deep. They can’t even scratch the surface of your soul. You’re pure. Even if darkness surrounds you, you’ll always remain innocent.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing,” I tell him. “Doesn’t innocent mean weak and vulnerable? Doesn’t it mean stupid? And how can I be pure? I wanted to kill Grayson. Doesn’t that make me vindictive?”
“That was one moment—a fleeting thought. I have seen the way you live your life. You don’t focus on the pursuit of pleasure. You aren’t selfish or greedy,” Liam says, pausing slightly. “Trust me, I know. I’m selfish and greedy. I act only in my best interests.”
I frown. “How can you say that about yourself? It isn’t true. You’ve done so much for me.”
“Everything I’ve ever done has been in my best interests,” Liam admits. He moves to lie down beside me and places his hand on my stomach. “But you’re not like that, Winter. You know it’s true. There’s something precious and pure within you, like a flawless diamond. That’s why you hide away and try so hard to protect yourself from the world. You can’t let anyone take that away from you.”
My eyebrows knit together as I consider his words. “You have a very distorted perception of me, Liam. I’m not nearly as great as you think I am.”
“You’re probably way better,” he says, sliding over me to place a kiss on my nose. “I’m only going off a few dates, a few books, and a few long conversations. I’ve probably only seen the tip of the iceberg.”
“So I’m a pure, innocent iceberg with a diamond in me,” I say with annoyance. “No wonder my life sucks. No one can see that I’m just a girl.”
“I do see that,” he says, playfully pinching my side, “a skinny girl who needs to eat! Come on. Let’s have dinner. I got some Thai takeout. But if you prefer, I could cook something for you.”
“You can cook?” I say in surprise. My own kitchen skills are sorely limited.
“Of course,” he says proudly. “It seems that you’re the one who needs to learn more about me. Haven’t you noticed yet? I’m not your average bachelor.”
“Would you like your coffee refilled, miss?”
I look up from my computer in surprise. I was so absorbed in the story that I ha
dn’t noticed the waitress approaching. “No,” I tell her, “but do you happen to know the time?”
“It’s almost noon,” she informs me.
“Oh! Thanks.” I grab my backpack and begin stuffing my computer into it roughly. “I have to get going.”
“Is a friend or family member sick?” asks the waitress with concern.
I have been sitting in the hospital café and working for a few hours. The waitress has been very friendly and sweet, and has kept me adequately pumped full of caffeine.
“Actually, it’s for me,” I tell her shyly as I sling my backpack over my shoulder. “I’m completely blind, but this crazy doctor thinks that he can give me the ability to see.”
“Wow!” the waitress says happily. “That’s awesome. Why don’t you seem more excited?”
Why does everyone keep asking me that? I inwardly wonder. I hesitate before responding. “I guess I don’t want to get my hopes up in case it doesn’t work out. If I don’t expect too much, I can’t be too deeply disappointed.”
“You’re a pessimist,” the waitress says with a laugh. “That’s not healthy. You’re going to be disappointed in life whether you get your hopes up or not. You can’t fool yourself into wanting something less by pretending that you aren’t excited.”
I lift my eyebrows at this surprising bit of wisdom.
“It’s like that feeling,” the waitress explains, “when you start dating someone and the relationship is new. Even if things are perfect, you could be miserable and expect it to go horribly wrong, like it always does. Maybe it will fail—but even if it does—not allowing yourself to enjoy it when things are good only robs you of happiness. Joy is something you need to feel, and it’s not any less joyful if it’s temporary. If those happy moments at the beginning are all you have, you need to let go and just hope for the best. Imagine the best. Otherwise, you ruin all the good moments by focusing on the possibility of losing them or being hurt. You can’t go through life like that.”
“That... makes a lot of sense,” I say in wonder. “I wish I could be more optimistic. I think too many horrid things have happened in my life for me to be positive like that.”
