Out of Oblivion

Chapter 39

I was strapped into a seat for takeoff, in which I fell asleep with my head on James’ shoulder. When it was safe to move about, I was placed in a room with a much more comfortable cot. I slept there for many hours after I cleaned myself up and changed into jeans and a comfortable sweater that Grace had brought me.

            Grace had helped me bandage up my wrists and ankles. The bleeding had stopped, but the rash was still painful.

            I was woken from my many hours of sleep by a pale, glowing light seeping into the crack of the doors. Quietly, I slipped out of bed and pressed the button to open the door. It slid open to reveal the glowing light streaming in from around the corner.

            I glanced around, afraid that they would send me back to bed. No one seemed to be around, so I stepped forward, curiosity sparking my energy. My muscles were stiff, but moveable.

            I stepped into the light, watching it shimmer on my skin. The scuff of a shoe startled me out of my daze. I glanced back and found James leaning against the wall watching me.

            “Good morning, sunshine,” he breathed, stepping into the light. His smile sent chills across my arms and my breath caught in my throat.

            He stepped so close I thought my heart might stop. “I don’t think this is sunshine,” I observed, my toes twitching nervously in my socks.

            “I wasn’t talking about that light,” James answered, searching for my gaze. His sharp eyes glinted in the pale light. I got lost in them, unable to utter a word. Finally, he chuckled and jerked his head to the right. “Come on.”

            I followed him to the source of the light. In a secluded corner of the spaceship was a small window, just large enough to display something magnificent.

            Our spaceship was in perfect sight of the moon.

            “We’re so close to it…it’s beautiful,” I exclaimed. James didn’t say anything. His face was close to mine, our silhouettes casting long shadows on the floor. I looked at him, his eyes full of wonder at the sight of the moon. I was reminded of what he told me, the night of Grace’s birthday.

            “Now you know what it’s like,” I began.

            “What?”

            “To be so close to the moon.”

            “Hmm. Yes, you’re right.” He looked at me and our eyes locked for a long moment. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking because I was at war with myself, trying to muster the courage to tell him.

            “James…”

            “Yes, Eleanor?”

            And for some reason, the way he was looking at me and the way he said my name made my eyes gloss over with tears and spill over my cheeks. It was as if I finally realized how much I had been missing…that he had been there the whole time, saving me, taking care of me, loving me. And I had pushed him away, because I couldn’t let go of my bitterness.

            “What’s wrong, darling?” James asked, wiping the tears from my face.

            And then I spilled it all out, as if an ocean had broken through. “Oh James, I’ve been so stupid! I was so stubborn and conceited and idiotic and oh I’ll never forgive myself. I’ve wanted to…I thought I was betraying Heather, but then that was stupid too. I’ve wanted to tell you—“

            My words were stopped by his lips pressed against mine. Every cell in my body swirled into a hurricane of chaos. I was sure my lungs were frozen and my heart had exploded. But, the thing was, it was wonderful.

            “I love you.” I felt the words on my lips more than I heard them. His real hand was tangled in my hair and his metal arm pulled me closer to him. My hand wandered to the back of his head.

            Tears were still flowing from my eyes. I broke away from him to say, “I know…I know you do…and I pushed you away…James, all those things you ever did in your other life, I forgive you. I forgive everything. I have to…because I can’t go another day harboring this inside. I love you too, James.”

            When I had finished my second rant, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, like he’d never get the chance to again. He was gentle and soft, holding me like a delicate flower.

            We broke away, but he kept his forehead resting on mine. “Thank you, Eleanor Stanton.”

            “For what?”

            “For reminding me what love is.”