Recovery

Chapter 20

The next week is extremely awkward for both Ivy and I. At some points, I'm too afraid to face her, so I avoid her at all costs. When I finally worked up the courage to speak with her, she refused to give me the light of day. This cycle repeated itself for seven full days, and I still haven't been able to talk to her.

My morning lessons with Avery have been fairly successful- yesterday, I groomed, lunged, and tacked up Trigger with almost no trouble, although Trig did try to nip me once or twice.

Besides that and the daily trail rides, the week passed by uneventfully.

But there's a stillness in the air, a feeling I can't shake. A feeling that everything is about to shift.

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When my alarm wakes me, I almost hit snooze. But then I think of Trigger, and force myself to get up.

I tug on jeans and a sweatshirt, along with my boots, before heading out of my room and down the hallway.

Someone walks out of the bathroom, and I accidentally run into them.

"Ivy?" I whisper once her face becomes visible in the low light of the hallway.

She huffs and tries to push past me. I grasp her wrist, determined to make her talk to me.

"Please just let me talk to you something," I beg, my stomach twisting into knots.

"Nothing you can say will make what you said okay," she snaps.

"I know that- I was so out of line. But maybe if you knew why I said what I said-"

"I don't care. Not even a little bit. So leave me alone. Just stay out of my face, I have nothing to say to you," she snarls, jerking her hand away from me.

I watch as she stomps of to her room, waiting till she's out of view to let a few tears fall.

I hate what I've become. I used to never cry. Now it seems like that's all I do.

At least crying is better than cutting a voice inside my head whispers.

But at times like these, I'm not so sure. At times like these, I want to march back into my room and snatch my razor off of its place on my dresser.

I consider it for a moment, but press the morbid thought out of my head.

No. I'm all better now. I'm stronger than that.

I sigh, and head out of the house and towards the barn.

Avery is sitting on a tack box in the aisle way, staring at nothing in particular.

"Hey," I softly greet, not wanting to speak too loudly for fear my voice might falter.

He instantly lifts his gaze and frowns at me.

"Are you okay?" he asks, motioning for me to sit in the space beside him. I hesitantly accept the offer.

"I'm fine," I sigh, brushing a few loose strands of my blond hair behind my ear.

"No you're not. You were crying. What's wrong?" he questions, his brow furrowed.

"Nothing," I snap, peeved. "It's none of your business anyways."

He recoils, his expression almost resembling hurt. My features soften.

"Sorry. It's just-"

"You don't have to tell me," he states. "If you don't want to."

I offer a weak smile and lean my head on his shoulder.

"Thanks."

We sit like that for a moment, the silence comforting me.