Page 37 of Broken

I don’t know what to do. His tears hit my cool skin, hot drops of sorrow and fear searing his pain into me. More weight to carry on my weary shoulders.

“I know I’m not enough for Eli, but I’ll learn how to be, and I’ll come back for him. I promise I’ll come back for him.” His voice is a mess of tears. “I should have told you when I kissed him and that I was falling in love with him. I should have told you I left to play football because I feel invisible in my own house since my mom died and my dad is working himself to death and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

My own tears rain down my cheeks as Asher relives this horrific memory. One that probably haunts him. It’s clearly etched into his being, and as much as I’m angry at him for leaving the way he did, I wouldn’t wish this kind of suffering on him. On anyone. No one deserves this. How many times has he relived this, said those same words? Once was too many.

So I hold him while he once again loses his best friend and try to block out his words so they don’t torment me later.

Running my hand up and down his back, I talk softly to him. Something will sink in at some point, right?

“You’re okay, Asher,” and “I’m here.” Over and over for what feels like hours. The shaking and rocking slow. All of a sudden, his body feels heavy around me. His arms fall to my hips instead of being steel bands around my ribs.

“Asher?” I try to sit up, to see his face, but his arms tighten around me again.

“Asher?” I murmur into his hair. My heart breaking and the dim light I found snuffed out, once again leaving me in the dark. It’s so fucking unfair how quickly it sucks you back in. I’m already exhausted, and it just started again. Why does it have to take everything from me?

He tenses, spine straightening, and muscles bunching under my hands. His face leaves the crook of my neck, and he looks around for a minute in silence. Part of me aches for him to be wrapped around me, protecting me from my own thoughts, but the other part is terrified and wants him off of me.

“Eli?” His voice is rough from crying.

“Yeah.” I release a breath of relief that he’s back with me and not trapped in his memory anymore. I can’t imagine reliving that memory. I already live in the past, my pain wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket to keep the present from seeping in. Like the only way to keep their memory alive is to constantly grieve.

“Did I jump in the water?” His eyes finally meet mine, and for the first time in a very long time, he looks lost. I haven’t seen that expression since his mom died, and it guts me. How do I handle someone else’s guilt when I can barely breathe through my own? Am I being punished? Is this what I get for being happy for a few minutes? I’m forced to relive this with him when I wasn’t there the first time?

“Yeah.” My throat tightens around the word.

“Right.” Asher looks around again and swallows hard. “Let’s head back, yeah?”

“Okay, just let me grab my things.” His arms fall from me, and I climb off his lap, searching for my stuff. I get my shoes on and my shirt pulled over my head. My arm smarts as the sleeve rubs over the abrasion and I hiss but ignore it.

Is he shutting down, or am I? I’m numb but aching. Is that possible? I wish I were empty. I was content for a second, enjoying the moment, and now I’m forced back into this hell, and it’s so much worse. It was a tease of what could be.

“This yours?” Asher asks, lifting the backpack.

“Yup.” I pick up the camera and hang it around my neck, then take the backpack and swing it on. He grabs my hand and just about drags me down the path. I guess he doesn’t like it here.

Stumbling after him, I trip and fall into his back. Why does he keep touching me? I need him to stop fucking touching me. I came out here to get the hell away from him. Why did he follow me?

You knew he would.

“Asher, stop.” Panting, I’m frustrated at this stupid walk and myself. “I can walk just fine on my own.”

He stiffens and grumbles something but drops my hand, and I drag in a deep breath while leaning on a tree for a second. With him ahead of me on the trail, I remove the used roll of film and refill it, then take some pictures of him. I’m not technically allowed to take pictures of other guests here, but I doubt he’ll care. Though everything will be developed and checked by security before we leave so he’ll know I took them. That’s future Elliot’s damn problem.

I meander down the path after him with him stopping every few minutes to wait for me. His long, football-trained legs eating up the distance much faster than me, but since he’s hurrying me along, the walk is much quicker than it was getting up there. I wish he would just fuck off, but I also don’t want him alone. I’ve never experienced anything like what he just did, and I don’t know what happens next, but he’s edgy or irritated. He’s off.

By the time we get back, I’m sweaty and stuck in my head. Everything is too much but not enough. It hurts, and I’m spiraling. I just need it all to stop.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Asher

Icrashed for about half an hour and woke up to find Eli gone. When he didn’t answer the text I sent him, I went looking. Noticing his camera was gone, I figured the bar was out. I ran along the beach, but he wasn’t there. Fear clawing at my insides, I asked the woman at the reception desk for places people go for pictures. She rattled off a few things, but when she said waterfall, I knew.

The entire way up there, anxiety ate at me. What if he was hurt? I can’t lose him too. I just got him back, and I’m keeping him this time. That boy is mine.

I’m not sure what happened at the falls, but it wasn’t good. He’s being weird, so I can only imagine what I said, but he’s shutting me out. I can feel it, and I don’t know how to stop it.

Back at the villa, I grab him, and he doesn’t say shit. No argument. Nothing.