Page 45 of Your Rule to Break

Chapter 24

Emilie

I whip the dooropen to the stairwell, almost hitting Zack with it, before he holds it open and follows me inside. Nothing like the power going out when you live on the twelfth floor.

We take the stairs in silence, using the lights from our cell phone to guide the way. I don’t ask why he’s following me. I don’t tell him not to and he doesn’t remind me that his question still hasn’t been answered.

Why am I upset?

It’s hard to check in with myself. My brain is foggy from lack of sleep, I'm shivering from being soaked with rain, and I can feel the intrusive thoughts on the verge of staking their claim for the evening.

What if you fell backward, taking Zack with you, and hit your head? How long would it take for someone to find us? What if you were both unconscious? How awful would it be for the person who stumbled on us?

I’ve always had a soft spot for Zack. Ever since the first time I met him, when he looked at me in that way that made me count. Whatever we’ve been doing the last six-ish weeks has blurred the lines.

It’s not lost on me that I've probably always wanted more but I'd never ask for it. I would reason with myself on how it’s absurd: people like Zack don’t end up with people like me. Now I’m the cliché.

We get to my apartment door, and I open it, my knuckles white from clutching the keys. Zack walks in after me and locks the door behind him.

I start with my wet clothes, losing layers, tossing them in a laundry basket.

“The sirens. It’s a thunderstorm. Sixty mile per hour wind gusts and hail,” Zack says, also taking off his wet clothes.

I go to my closet, now only in my bra and panties, and my body shakes so bad it’s hard to think about anything else. My body feels light and hazy, like I’m about to pass out. The tears come, and I try to keep quiet, but it doesn’t work.

“Emilie. Are you okay?” Zack questions, right outside the closet.

I don’t have it in me to lie anymore. “No. I’m not okay.”

“Can I come in?” he asks, as I crouch down to the floor, arms around myself.

“Yes,” I choke out, trying to catch my breath.

Next thing I know, Zack is beside me on the floor, wearing a hoodie I borrowed from him and was waiting to return, and his briefs. He set his phone tilted on the ground to light up at least some of the closet. He grips the sides of my arms and leads me out to my bed, sitting me down. In my closet, he finds sweatpants and a crewneck.

“Arms up,” he says, his voice gentle and caring, as silent tears trickle down my cheeks.

I do what he says, and he puts the crewneck on me. He picks up an arm, looking for a hair tie on my wrist, which he finds. He pulls my hair into a bun, trying to keep my new top dry.

Then he’s kneeling in front of me, putting my legs into the sweatpants before standing me up and pulling them on. When I think Zack’s done dressing me, he comes back with two pairs of long fuzzy socks—a pair for each of us.

“We should be in the center of a room, away from windows. I think we should go in the living room. I already pulled down all the blinds and curtains. You good with that?” he asks.

I nod, tears still falling. He grabs my hand and walks me to the living room. When I think he’s going to set me on the couch, he wraps me in a hug. Tight. My body still shakes as he rubs circles on my back. I hold on to him like I need him to breathe.

Right now, maybe I do?

I put the side of my face on his chest as he sways us back and forth. One hand rubs the side of an arm while the other holds my back. The pressure is perfect. I don’t know how he does this—gives me what I need without asking for it.

I don’t know how long we stand like this, alternating positions but still holding onto each other in my dark living room. Long enough for my shaking, and tears, to stop and for the warmth to come back to my bones.

Zack reaches back, placing his hands on the sides of my face. “Do you have candles anywhere? Any power banks for our phones?”

I point to the closet near the apartment door. “There’s an entire emergency response kit in there.” Zack smiles.

When we’re set up on the couch, with almost every blanket I own, and a few candles lit in the apartment so we can make our way around, Zack gets to the bottom of the bag and pulls out two iPads, looking confused.

“They’re charged with movies and stuff to watch. Sometimes I can’t sleep and need the sound or the distraction of something familiar.”