Reduced to Ruin

Chapter 20

I was expecting things would improve after James's visit, that James and I would pick up where we left off with our workouts. And we would continue to have game nights. But the truth was I didn't see him again for three more days when he came in to drop off more food.

I was sitting at the kitchen nook. "Hi," I offered as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hi," James replied drily. He placed the two bags on the counter and began to exit.

"Wait!" I jumped off of the stool and hurried to the door.

"Please, James, talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Well, is this the way it's going to be?" My voice cracked, and I fought back the tears.

"It's a little late to be worried about that, don't you think?"

"I can't say how sorry I am. Please, I'm begging for another chance. I'll do anything."

"Then stop begging." He walked out.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled at a slammed door.

I could see how prisoners went crazy while in solitary confinement. Humans were not meant to be alone.

* * *

It had been three weeks since the attempt escape, about four weeks since Thanksgiving. All I ever saw of James was when he brought me more food. Every two or three days. I didn't attempt to make any more conversations with him, though. I figured I didn't need to borrow any more trouble than I already had. And if James was going to forgive me, he'd have to do it in his own sweet time. Very slow time.

Christmas was lurking right around the corner. Every time I thought about it, my stomach ached for all the holiday could've been had I not thrown it all away. Christmas was all about family.

Christmas Eve came and went, and James didn't come upstairs. There was no Christmas tree, no presents, no Christmas cookies. Santa would not be visiting me this year. And it was all my fault.

I awoke Christmas Day like it was any other day. No TV, books, music, or any other entertainment. I filled the day as best I could—cleaning, working out (I had hoped James could hear it downstairs and would think of me kindly), and meditating. It wasn't really a formal meditation, as I didn't know how it worked exactly, but I tried to go to my "happy place," where I could escape from this nightmare. I also did a lot of sleeping and hoped for no nightmares.

I wondered what my dad was doing for Christmas. Since the year my mom had passed, we traveled to my aunt and uncle's house an hour away. I really hoped he was going on with his life and able to enjoy the holiday, even though I knew he probably wasn't. I wished he could let me go, wished he knew I was alive. Maybe the lady he was dating (what was her name?) was able to console him and keep him company in my absence. Maybe he hardly thought of me anymore.

In the afternoon, I was vacuuming the family room when I saw the door open, and James walked in with grocery bags of food and a smile on his face. I turned off the vacuum.

"Wh-What's going on?"

"It's Christmas, isn't it?" he said.

I stood there, my mouth agape.

"I thought maybe you'd want some company."

I cried into my hands, realizing this meant James was finally giving me another chance. I collapsed onto the couch, the gratification overflowing me. He walked over to me.