"It's been three days, Zi, and she's barely moved from that spot except to go to the bathroom. I'm worried." Kass spoke in a rush, her voice fading.
The bed dipped beside her, and a large hand covered her arm.
"Ash, honey, you have to get up." Pulling the blankets back from her chin, Marcus brushed a damp curl back from her cheek.
Ashlyn's heavy stare shifted to Marcus, looking straight through him. Trapped within the crusted shell that encased her fractured heart, Ashlyn was a prisoner to grief. She heard Marcus speak, but it wasn't his voice that carried those words to her ears. It was his voice, that butterscotch voice that clung to her memories, an intimate whisper that found its way into her mind and her heart. Even in his absence, he haunted her.
Make it stop, her lips pleaded, the taste of salt upon them. Marcus' fingers continued to caress her cheeks, something damp and heavy pressing against her crown. A cloth.
"We're trying," he whispered, his hand shifting to her shoulder. "But we need you to fight through it. Can you do that for us?" He added, eyes as calm as the midnight sea piercing hers.
Swallowing through the dry lump in her throat, Ashlyn gave a weak nod. She couldn't bear this pain much longer. If they promised to take it away, even for just a moment, she had to try.
"Atta girl." Smiling, Marcus stood and placed the warm cloth on the bedside table. The vacant space he'd filled at her side was a cold reminder of what had led to this point.
'You don't have to go,' she'd said. 'I do,' he'd answered, sealing his goodbye with a damning kiss.
A girl, broken and afraid, contorted on the side of the road, a guy gone with barely a backward glance. The last thread that joined their hearts snapped painfully in two, the scarring whiplash the final reminder she had to last her through the day and the night.
Squeezing her eyes shut against the memories, Ashlyn resisted the ties that thought to draw her back into the pit of despair that had been her home for three days.
"Don't leave me now, Ash," Marcus called through the swirling darkness, a light breaching the narrowed slits as she opened her eyes. The smile upon his lips, much closer than she'd expected, forced that light to spread further, the lonely thoughts cowering in the recesses of her mind.
Tipping her head back, Ashlyn reached with trembling fingers for the glass of water. The condensation that trailed the side of the glass was cold against her fevered fingertips.
Slipping his hands beneath her arms, Marcus helped Ashlyn to sit up, straightening a pillow behind her back for comfort. Something tugged at the corners of her lips, the first smile she'd formed in three days filling her cheeks.
'Thank you,' she mouthed before gulping the water. The cool liquid slid down her throat, unlocking the dormant muscles. Her heart gave the first painful thump he hadn't caused, and her smile grew a little stronger.
YOU ARE READING
What If We Drown ✓
RomanceAshlyn hasn't spoken a word since the age of eight, and her heart's never felt more protected. But, when the confident and ever so charming Derek stumbles into her quiet little world, her emotions-and forbidden desires-have never been so loud. ...