Wronged

? 23 ?

Anyway, Aiden told me not to worry about it. I'll be fine because the ligaments are completely healed. They just need some physical therapy to get used to moving the correct way again, which he says he's going to help me with also. That'll take two weeks. I thought it would be at least six weeks, but apparently, the ligament wasn't completely ripped. I don't know how Aiden knows that without an X-Ray, but I trust him.

"You good?" He asks as Hayley and Nico walk in front of us.

I nod and give him a tiny smile. "Yeah. I think the bandage is a bit loose though."

He frowns and adjusts his backpack so both straps are on his shoulders. He stops walking, and I do too.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Come here," He says, nodding his head and gesturing for me to move to him.

I give him a look. "I don't need carried."

He rolls his eyes and sighs. In a flash, he's scooped me up bridle-style. My eyes widen and my heart jumps for a split second. "Aiden!" My cheeks turn red. A few people look our way. I get glares from most people, either because they're jealous or mad at me for yelling. But some smile, which makes me even more humiliated. Instinctively, I bury my face in his shirt to hide my identity. He chuckles at this, his chest vibrating.

"You're so stubborn," he says amusedly. I can practically see the smirk without even looking. I smack his arm as we continue to walk, making him chuckle again.

This boy.

~

"Ow-Ow-Ow-Ow!" I whine, bending my knee slowly as pressure is applied with the rubber stretchy thing. He gives me a concerned look and eases off a bit.

"Sorry," Aiden says quietly. "You've gotta do this if you want it to get better in a shorter span of time."

I sigh. "I need to get back in the gym."

"Not until this is healed."

"But-"

"No buts. There's no way you're working out until you're completely better." He raises an eyebrow as if asked for me to test him. I don't, leaning back on his bed again and preparing for the pressure.

It's a requirement for me to be in the gym at least twice a week. If services find out I've been skipping it, they'll ask questions. Then I'll have to tell them about my leg. And I don't know what lie I'd have to come up with to save myself.

If they found out that a man attacked and harmed me, they'd assume I was mentally harmed as well. Especially since I didn't say anything. But even if I did, they still would've sent me back to the institution. I can't go back there.

So I'm just trusting Aiden. I'll heal as quickly as possible and get back at it. All I can do is hope they don't call Lyma and ask if I've been going. Because then she'll ask me. Although, I suppose I can just lie and say I've been going. I can even prove it by leaving the house enough times and just meeting up with Aiden for therapy. Yeah. That sounds like a good backup plan.

I let out a slow breath and bend my knee as Aiden tries to carefully press the rubber on the bottom of my foot. We came to his house after school today to do this. I haven't actually met his mom yet (not in the proper way), and I'm not even sure if he has any brothers or sisters. In a way, I feel bad for coming here without them knowing.

"Hey Aiden?" I say through a grunt as I press.

"Yeah? You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, smiling a little at his worry. "I was just wondering if you have any siblings?"

Aiden's mouth sets in a straight line. He doesn't make eye contact with me, and simply changes exercises. I follow along quietly, not wanting to pry. If he doesn't answer, it's fine. Trust me when I say I understand.

It's that feeling of personal individuality. Like you don't want to share it - not because you're vulnerable and nervous - but because it's your secret. And no one can take it away from you, because it's yours. Whatever happened to you, whatever took a piece of you, can't take away the secret itself. And for some reason, you don't want to share it. You don't want to give it away.

But then he speaks, taking a big breath beforehand. It's shaky, like his words are clogged up and his throat is thick with emotion. I know that feeling. It's hard to get anything out when your throat is blocked off. Like you're constricted and can't breathe.

"I have a little sister who left with my dad," He says, voice very low. Very soft. He swallows once. "He took her with him without a word."

I feel my heart crack at the way he doesn't look up and the way his adam's apple bobs as it holds back emotion. It hurts me to see him hurting, but I know he's probably never cried before. Maybe it'd be healthy for him to release some of it.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I usually don't like using those words. They mean sympathy. Pity. I hate it when people use it on me. But for some reason, I feel like Aiden's never received an honest apology from anyone. Even if they don't need to.

I feel like he's been hurt, and no one has regret doing it.

"It's fine," He says. His voice involuntarily breaks a little though. Obviously my small two words got to him. "I just hope she's safe."

I pull my leg back, making him look up at me. I make myself manage to sit criss-cross and just look at him. He looks at me, and I know he's trying to hold it back. But the longer I stare, the more he cracks.

"I could kinda go for a hug right now," I say quietly. "Know anyone who feels the same?"

He licks his bottom lip and then pulls it into his mouth before lowering his head and letting out a breathy, quiet sob. He sits there and keeps his head low, hands gripping and running through his hair. His shoulders shake as he tries to keep the noises from coming out.

I feel myself cut on the inside out by this sight before me. I don't like seeing this side. I can do with anger and frustration and even the neutrality. But not sadness. Not pain. He doesn't even know how to deal with it.

I walk over to him on the ground and sit behind him before carefully wrapping my arms around his torso. I lay my head on his shoulder, but this only makes him cry even more.

He turns around enough so he can wrap me in his own arms, his back leaning against the end of his bed. He completely clutches onto me like I might fall off of a cliff if he doesn't. His one arm is wrapped around my back, the other reaching up around my upper back and holding my head against him.

"He took her away," He weeps. "I couldn't even do anything."

"I know," I say quietly, rubbing his back soothingly. His body racks with cries of pain. "I know, Aiden. It's okay."

"I'm sorry, Lily," He whispers, voice weak and tiny. It's cracking. He sounds like he's been stabbed with a twelve-inch knife, and the murderer is twisting it more and more.

He's rocking only a little bit, shaking his head as if he's denying it. "Why does it hurt so much?" He cries softly.

"It's called pain," I whisper. "But it's okay. I'm here. It'll pass, I promise.

I'm here."

•••
A/N:
Meh. I tried with this emotional scene. Also, this chapter was hella long (2562 words) so love me.