It Begins With Us

38.

His arms wrap tightly around me and he pulls me close in between his legs.

"What happened?! No, oh, oh shit. Please..." He asks his voice so frightened I'm sure he's got the right idea about what he's done.

I can't look him in the eye, I'm so hurt, so desperate, and so broken. I just don't want to, I don't want him to know, I don't want to tell him, I don't even want to remmeber it. I want it to disappear like it never happend. I wish I was Ryle in this moment, wish that I could be ignorant of the memory, ignorant of the pain.

"Alba!" Ryle shouts my name so desperately he pulls me out of my pity.

His jaw drops as he properly catches sight of my face, my split lip, swollen eyes, blood all around my mouth. He stares at me with such wild and broken eyes, tears streaming down his face and he begs me to tell him, begs me to let him know. 

That's when I know I don't ever want to be him, never. Doing something so horrible and then being left so desperate for denial. Not knowing how far you went, how badly you ruined everything around you. Suddenly, I'm terrified to be anything like him.

"My God." He whispers and takes in a shuddering breath.

"Why couldn't you hear me?" I sob, I know why but I'm not thinking straight.

He pulls me back in, holds me close in his arms. Suddenly he gets up and leads me back into the washroom, he sits me up on the counter and I clench the towel to my chest spreading it wide over my thighs. I watch him as he walks out of the washroom to get something. 

He walks back in and over to me with a t shirt in hand, he wets a corner of the shirt under the tap. I wait as he walks over to me and stands awkwardly in front of my legs. I swallow and he fidgets with the t shirt, giving me time to decide if I want him standing so intimately with me. I force my legs open and when the towel slips off my thighs I quickly shove them back together.

I sit there uncomfortably as I go red and he looks away, brows furrowed low over his eyes. His head snaps up and he looks like he's got an idea to fix this situation. I watch as he shakes out the shirt and then looks to me for permission. 

I nod and he pulls it down over my head I sit there letting him pull it down my torso and then let go of the towel shoving my arms through the short sleeves. I pull it under my butt and then slowly open my legs letting him step in between towel in hand. I watch as he leans over my leg, wets the towel and then turns to me.

"Can I?" He asks swallowing and I nod just so that he won't break.

I close my eyes to keep from crying as he wipes the dry blood from my face. With eyes closed, my senses widen and after a moment the quiet sniffling coming from Ryle makes my heart sink. My eyes snap open and they catch on his face, just a few inches from me, dripping with tears an contorted with grief. I can't stop my own tears from dripping and he shakes his head.

"Sorry, it doesn't what your diary said, I shouldn't have done that. I just couldn't keep myself from-from losing it. I tried, I really did." He's breathing like it hurts, and I wish everything could just stop hurting.

"Okay, okay." I whisper grabbing him by the wrists puling him closer till his forehead is pressed against mine. "Just calm down we can't freak out right now."

"But I really didn't-" Ryle starts again but I cut him off.

"Ryle. I knew from the moment I found out it wasn't going to be easy. It's something else to go through it, but still. I'm not leaving." I say, staring him right in the eyes.

For a moment there's relief in them, and then they darken.

"Here," he mutters puling away and wiping his cheeks, "let me finish."

I patiently wait as he cleans up the rest of my face. The moment he's done and there's a bandaid stuck on my cut, I take over and switch spots with him. I grab the towel, wet it, and clean his split lip. 

He only realizes he even has one when I point it out. Ryle really doesn't remember anything, not the pain he put me through, not the pain I put him through. Once we're done and he's got a bandaid on as well, we walk over to the bed and sit down facing one another, crisscrossed, and knee to knee.

"Why do you still have your diary? Do you still love him? Whoever 'Him' is." He asks his eyes darkening further and I refuse to look away no matter how much I want to.

"First off, I kept that diary because it's a written record of a big part of my life. Not just 'Him'" I say carefully and then force myself to quickly blurt out the rest. "Second, yes, I do love him, and even more than before because now I'm with him. With you."

"Me?" Ryle's face is twisted with emotions, anger, betrayal, confusion.

"Yes you. You are 'Him' and 'Him' is you." I repeat and his brows scrunch together and hang low over his eyes.

"That's not possible." Ryle says through clenched teeth. "You didn't even know me that long ago."

"No, I knew you." I whisper. "I just hadn't met you."

"You need to stop and just say whatever it is you're trying to say." He says with a harsh tone, and I flinch but still refuse to look away.

"I never lied to you. I've known about the man I'm going to love almost all my life." I say firmly. "And I've known, because I'm a time traveller."