An Open Sky

Chapter Fifty-Four ~Aidan~

                I gave into her unrelenting poking and flopped over onto the opposite side of the bed. I rested my head on the pillow as she retreated into the bathroom. She exited with several fresh towels in her arms. I frowned.

                She understood my question. “We can ditch the towels in your backpack, but we can’t ditch bloody bed sheets. The cops would be all over those.” My eyebrows arched in surprise. I didn’t realize how realistic she was being about the situation while I was too busy living out my fantasy to notice. “What?” She questioned. “I watch a lot of crime shows.”

                I caught her eyes drifting toward the clothes that I’d left for her on the bed as she tossed me the towels. “You can go shower if you want.”

                She eyed me, “You won’t die before I get back?” She sounded jovial, but her body was shaking with the seriousness of the question. She was actually concerned for me.

                I shook my head, “No promises.” I shot her a sly smile as she grabbed my clothes.

                “Well, I’ll be sure to plan you a good funeral. Thanks for the clothes, by the way.” She winked, locking herself behind a closed door, away from me.

                The water turned on almost immediately. I grinned. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the pain I was feeling. I took in a deep breath at an attempt to slow my breathing. My thoughts were consumed with Jay, only to be replaced by Layla. I thought of everything I was trying to erase from my mind, yet I didn’t want to let go.

                I saved Alexa, for now. I didn’t know if Jay would reappear or not. Maybe he would move on. Maybe he would go into hiding. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. But I didn’t want that. I didn’t want Jay to move on to someone else, and I didn’t want him gone. I wanted to help him. I wanted things to be like they were, before he destroyed me. Before we were both broken.

                I wanted Layla. I wanted her to know I still loved her. I broke my promise. I fell. I jumped. I just wished she would understand, because I didn’t. Her voice still floated through my head, her touch still lit my skin through Alexa. They were practically the same person. Layla’s touch, Layla’s love, Alexa’s voice, Alexa’s humor, Alexa’s body, they were all her. I loved her.

                I flicked the television off; the only noise in my ears was my beating heart and the soft padding of the water in the shower. I lied there, pressing another towel to my skin, letting my blood seep out into it, forever to be part of it. I didn’t know how much blood I could afford to lose, but I wasn’t scared. I almost wished I was. I wished that I could feel something other than the pain.

                The door opened. Alexa stepped out with the release of steam. Her hair was damp. It looked as if she’d attempted drying it with the cheap hair dryer in the bathroom, but decided to give up. She’d rolled up my sweatpants at the waist and my shirt was half tucked into them. Casual was a good look on her.

                The skin of her feet made a suction noise when she stepped back into the bathroom and walked around. She reappeared with a defeated look in her eyes. I smiled up at her as she walked over, nearly tripping on the sweatpants.

                “I suppose you wouldn’t have a hair tie, would you?” She said flatly.

                “We can pick some up tomorrow if you want, on the drive home.”