Life Match

Part Two: Matched: Day One

Part Two: Matched

Day One

I awaken the next morning, sunlight pouring in from the open curtains. Riah is no longer curled around me, but sitting in a chair, drawing me once more. I yawn and go over to him, taking a risk and sitting in his lap. He’s surprised, but tries hiding it. I look at the drawing. I’m clothed in this one, a red head surrounded by a sea of blue sheets.

“Do you feel better?” Riah asks. I nod, puzzled, “Why?”

“You seemed upset last night. That we didn’t...” He lets the statement hang unsaid in the air, going instead with, “Are we going to talk about it?”

“I’m hungry,” is my response.

Riah and I go back to the diner from earlier and this time request a booth in the very back of the restaurant. I order Belgian waffles and Riah gets a plain bowl of oatmeal. We make awkward conversation until they bring out our food. After my fifth mention of the weather, Riah leans in close.

“Are we not going to talk about last night?” he questions, under his breath,”I know it’s bothering you, too.”

I let out an exhale of breath, “Nothing to talk about.”

Riah sighs and we finish our breakfast in silence. After breakfast we start the long drive back to the estate. Just outside of the city Riah pulls over and grabs me, kissing me passionately. I kiss him back, returning the effort. When we finally pull away, breathless, I realize my face is probably red, and I blush, color rushing my pale skin.

“Glad we got that out of the way,” Riah murmurs, pulling back onto the road, “So, we’ve got two hours of road to cover, start talking.”

“I wasn’t ready,” I try to explain, but that sounds weak. All eighteen year olds are supposed to be ready. The match system insures that you fall in love with your match, “I mean, I don’t think I love you, Riah.”

“Why?” Riah’s expression clouds and I look for something less harsh to say to him.

“You terrorized me and Jericho for years....” anger begins to boil my blood. Push and shove after tease after insult, all come flooding back to me,”.... I can’t just forget all those years of abuse in one week, Riah. I just can’t.”

“I apologized!” Riah protests.

“I need time to heal!” I shoot back, “I will always have to live with the fact you aren’t safe! I’ll always know that my husband has a dark side because it’s been directed at me! I can never tell you all my troubles because you are what is causing them!”

“But-“Riah starts to say something, but the sentence hangs unfinished in the air.

 I continue, “I’ve seen the darkness that lies behind you eyes and I know doing the wrong thing in the slightest will have it released on me. I can’t just forget the things you did to me. Can you get that?”

He solemnly nods and I sigh. It wasn’t fair to dump all of that on him in one conversation, but it needed to be said. 

“I see you’re trying,” I say, “I appreciate that, but I still need to heal.”

The rest of the drive drags on until we’re the large main house is looming above us in the distance. We drive back to the small cottage we’d originally left our bags and Riah unpacks the rest of it into the bureau in our room. I sit on the bed and watch him, not sure what else to do. He watches me as well, although is much better at it, compared to my awkward staring. I look at the clock and realize it’s creeping closer to noon, leading me to go make lunch.