And in response to that, I fulfilled the second of my steps. “Stay away from me,” I snarled.
I looked at nobody else before turning and hurrying for the entrance of the caves. Step three was to take care of my hand. I wouldn’t go to the infirmary. Sevedi was busy making sure Ava survived, and so I’d take care of it on my own. I reached my room, closing the door behind me and pacing to the cabinet where I kept my medical supplies. There was so much blood on my hand that I couldn’t even be sure where the wound started and ended anymore. Instead of soaking a linen with antiseptic, I simply opened the bottle and poured its contents over my hand. It washed all the blood from my flesh, spilling to the floor, but right now I didn’t care about the mess. I was shaking. Both hands were trembling violently and I didn’t know why.
As I set the bottle on the table beside me to try and compose myself, my door burst open. Nira rushed in, so excited that she hardly kicked it closed behind her. “You did it?” she asked as she paced over, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You found her?”
I nodded in confirmation, and she reached me and threw herself upward, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me into a fierce hug. She was embracing me so tightly that her feet weren’t even touching the ground, so I supported her weight, wrapping my own arms around her waist to return the hug.
“You did it,” she repeated beside my ear. “You found her.” For some unknown reason, those words caused a severe pang in my chest, and as I set Nira back down, she released me. “You’re shaking,” she observed, pulling back to look at me. “What’s wrong?”
Her brown eyes were full of worry, and I tried to say something in order to assure her that I was fine, but the second I tried to speak, a sob escaped my throat instead. It startled her, and her eyebrows furrowed with a deepened concern, but I couldn’t stop it now. I broke down into uncontrollable tears.
“Whoa,” Nira murmured, directing me to sit at the edge of the table, where I was more level with her so she could step between my legs and pull me into a closer hug. “Kiena, it’s alright,” she assured me. “You found her.” My shoulders shook with another sob, and my hands were trembling as I wrapped them around to her back. “It’s all over,” she said, tightening her hold on me.
And that’s why I was crying, because it was all over. Six months of harrowing guilt, and the torture of not knowing whether we’d ever find Ava or not. Of living every day in a constant battle between the desolate emptiness I felt and trying not to let my family feel it too. Six months of nightmares, and sleeplessness, and unending exhaustion that plagued every minute until I got so tired I passed out. The worry, the hurt, and the complete and utter hopelessness—it was over. Whether Ava would forgive me or not, she was safe, and I didn’t have to be stuck anymore. We could move forward. Move on. It was all over, and I was tired of being tired, and all I could do was tremble and cry because of my staggering fatigue and relief. So I did. Nira hugged me, and I cried. Cried until there wasn’t a tear left to shed.
Chapter 16
Sevedi had spent a good portion of the day working over Ava and healing her. Ava was in poor health. She was weak, and emaciated, but Sevedi was strong enough that she could have Ava back to normal in a matter of days. Now that Ava was comfortable, and rescued, if she started eating again then Sevedi would keep healing her, and she’d recover. The only guarantees that Sevedi couldn’t make were about Ava’s heart and mind. I’d broken her heart and left her to isolation for six months. She hadn’t thought the dream was real because she was convinced I was dead. For all we knew, she might think she was still in a dream. Might think I wasn’t real even when she could truly see me and touch me.
After Sevedi had grown too tired with the energy she was expending to heal Ava, she’d needed a break. The sun had been setting anyway, so I’d relieved her and pulled up a seat at Ava’s bedside in order to be there when she woke. She didn’t wake all night, and eventually I’d fallen asleep too. Now my eyes fluttered open, because I’d always been so in tune to Ava’s heartbeat, and even in my sleep, I could sense it racing.
Ava must have just woken as well, because when I looked at her, she appeared confused. She didn’t know where she was, and just behind that confusion was fear. I could only imagine what it was like to be in the same small room for six months, and then to wake up somewhere else. She sat up and her eyes met mine, and everything about her froze. Her gaze locked onto me, her breathing stopped, and she just stared. The only thing that didn’t stop or slow was her pulse. For a long minute, her gaping went uninterrupted, but during that minute her eyes filled with tears.
“Ava?” I said, entirely unsure of what to say or do because I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “It’s me.” And she took in a blubbering breath as the tears spilled over. “Alright,” I murmured, leaving my seat for the edge of her cot and pulling her into a comforting hug. “You’re safe now, it’s alright.” She didn’t hug me back, but for the first few seconds, she just let me hold her while she cried. “We’re at the caves.”
Then I felt her hand against my stomach. She didn’t shove me away, but her closed fist set with enough pressure that I recognized the request to let her go. Recognized that she didn’t want me hugging her.
I released her immediately. “I’m sorry,” I said, sitting back in my seat.
Even though I’d understood the possibility that she wouldn’t forgive me, or at the very least wouldn’t be ready to be close to me again, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt that she pushed me away. Because it did. It was painfully disappointing. So I sat there, waiting for her to do or say something. Only, she never did. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down and pulled her knees halfway to her chest, staring at the cot beneath her as though she couldn’t bring herself to look at me again.
“Ava?” I prompted once more, my voice a cautious whisper. Out of instinct, I began to reach out with my hand, aiming to set it on her arm to offer comfort, but she leaned away. My hand dropped as a pang hit my chest. “Do you…” Even though it killed me to expect the answer, I had to ask. “Would you like me to leave?”
Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears, and when she finally looked at me for a brief moment, a drop slid down her cheek. Her gaze returned to the cot while her hand wiped beneath her eye. She didn’t respond at first, but then she folded forward to bury her face in her knees, and her shoulders shook with a cry as she nodded.
I felt salt sting my own eyes, but I’d known this could happen. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, I’d give and do. Even if that meant giving her space. I stood, taking in a breath so I could say something. Anything. Only, I had no idea what to say. “I, um,” I began weakly, timidly, “I’m here if you need anything.” But then I realized she might not want anything from me, and felt I should add, “Or you can ask anyone. It doesn’t… doesn’t have to be me.”
I hurried out of the infirmary before the tears pooling in my eyes could pour over. Once outside, I leaned back against a cave wall, taking a moment and a deep breath to compose myself. Time. It had been six months, but it would still take more time. I just hoped that at some point Ava would speak to me. Forgive me.
After that, I went to the dining hall to get some breakfast, but as I ate, something bothered me. It wasn’t Ava. It was the aching in my hand. The pain in the laceration on my knuckles, and the severe bruising in my bones. More than it was the physical pain, however, it was what that pain was attached to. It was Silas. That’s what was bothering me. It didn’t make sense why, after six months, he’d decided to come to me now. Why he’d decided to finally tell me where Ava was. I didn’t want to look at him—the very thought of speaking with him put a disgusted bile in my throat—but I had to. Not knowing was worse.