Forest

Chapter Two

The moment I decided to jump off the cliff, I didn't know what would happen. The impact with the water knocked the breath out of me, and the waves dragged me under again and again, but I didn't give up. I hadn't jumped into the water to die, I was their to save the stupid woman who had the fucking balls to jump.

It took a while, but I eventually found a calm spot, gasping for air as I struggled to keep my head above water. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but every second felt stretched, like I was fighting for hours to stay alive. And all the while, I knew she was out there somewhere—she had jumped too—and I still hadn't seen her.

The night was pitch dark. Moonlight skimmed the ocean's surface, casting a ghostly glow that only deepened the shadows. I took a few precious breaths, collecting myself. I didn't have much time to find her.

Each stroke against the powerful waves dragged me farther from shore, but I pushed forward, right against the waves. I dove deep, searching, hoping to see her somewhere in the darkness. For several minutes, nothing. But then—there—a glimmer, just the shape of a body, drifting down into the depths. Calm and stay, making the same motion over and over again. Moving forward and then backwards. 

I struggled for a minute to get myself upward for air, lungs heaving as I gulped in a breath, then dived back down, using every ounce of strength to reach her. The waves crashed harder, almost as if they were fighting me, relentless and unyielding, but I finally reached her.

I grabbed her by the waist, holding her tight, determined not to let go. Breaking the surface again, I dragged her with me, but she was limp, her face pale, her eyes closed. She wasn't breathing.

I grit my teeth, pulled her to shore, each stroke burning my muscles. Every breath seared as I struggled against the saltwater and sand. When I finally dragged her up onto the beach, I collapsed beside her, wheezing, exhausted. "For fuck's sake, come on," I muttered, half to her, half to myself. "I didn't jump in the water to drag a dead woman out of it." A low growl from irritation leaves my mouth. 

I knelt beside her and checked her pulse—nothing. No breath. My heart sank.

Without hesitating, I tilted her head back and began compressions. My hands pressed against her chest, careful, almost afraid to hurt her more. Her skin was covered in bruises, scratches, and cuts. I didn't want to add broken ribs to the list, not if she still had a chance.

A part of me whispered reasons to stop, to let her go. But I couldn't. My curiosity burned; who was this woman? What could have driven her to jump? Why was she so stupid enough to jump of a fucking cliff. Like did she think she could surive this shit? Come on, there was no way she would have thought that right?

After what felt like an eternity, I leaned down and breathed into her, pressing my lips to hers, willing my breath into her lungs. I pulled back, waiting, hoping. And then, finally, her body jerked, a harsh cough tore through her, and water spilled from her mouth. Her chest moved up and fell down as she gasped for air. Her eyes stayed closed, but she was breathing.

The storm howled above us, dark clouds rolling over the moon, but it didn't matter. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

-

Three days, and the woman still hadn't been awake. She lay there, tangled in my sheets, her strawberry-blonde hair a splash of color against the black pillow. Her hands, small and fragile, clutched at the blanket's edge, and sometimes, in her sleep, she'd murmur, her breathing hitching, her face twisting with whatever demons she was wrestling. When that happened, I'd place a hand on her cheek, steadying her, grounding her, until her breathing slowed. 

Saving her was a not easy—a decision I made without a second thought. I couldn't just walk away, leave her to the waves. But now, here I was, with a half-dead stranger in my bed and no clue what came next. I'd brought her to my bedroom at my appartment, the one place where no one would question me. Yet, I was beginning to question myself.

The bruises on her skin were fading, colors shifting from purple to light yellow. Evidence of a fight she'd barely survived, some brutal storm that had left her scratched but alive. I watched her, irritation stirring. Had I been reckless to intervene? If she died here, I'd have a body on my hands, and cleaning that up would be one hell of a mess. Another damn complication.

What was I thinking, diving in after her? Dragging her here? My mind ran in circles, weighing the consequences, frustrated at the risk I'd taken. Another careless move, another thing to handle. 

But I knew one thing, no matter how much I tried to fight it: I wasn't about to abandon her now. Not after what it took to save her.