Ali. He was around 5’ 10” and his
hair was jet black. As he came closer I saw his eyes. It was
a beautiful light hazelnut color, but not as pretty as Eric’s
though. I gave myself a mental kick for that last thought.
“Good morning,” he smiled, flashing perfect rows of
white teeth, “Mr. Wilson and Miss,” he looked to me
questioning.
“Jen,” I said smiling back at him a little too friendly.
“Call me Eric,” Eric said at my side, and held out his
hand.
“Very well,” Dr. Ali said shaking his hand, and then it
was my turn. He held out his hand to me and with my left
hand I took it, but didn’t let go.
I looked to Eric smiling mischievously, and then I
turned back to the doctor in front of me. Without saying
anything, I pulled the doctor towards me and kissed him,
leaving Eric at my side watching. I could almost feel the
steam radiating from his skin. I pulled the doctor closer,
deepening the kiss and closed my eyes. The kiss only lasted
for a few seconds before I pulled away from the doctor,
grinning.
The doctor took a confused step back, away from me,
and then his eyes locked onto Eric’s. “Eric – Mr. Wilson I
am so –” he began, but stopped when Eric turned, sending
me daggers. I could almost feel his eyes burning a hole into
the middle of my head.
“Excuse us,” Eric said through his teeth, and without
another word the good doctor left the room, silently
shutting the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked
shut, Eric was standing in front of me. He had placed both
hands on the hospital bed, at my sides caging me in. I
didn't take my eyes off his. I was not backing down.
“So an annoying slut for a wife, is that it?” he asked
surprisingly calm.
“Goes well with an abusive husband, does it not?” I
countered, holding up my damaged wrist. “And besides
I’m not your wife Eric! We’re not even engaged,” I
sneered in his face.
“Really?”
“Well, it may have escaped your notice, spoiled rich
boy, but I hate you!” I spat at him. “Also if I didn’t
where’s the sign of commitment, other than the sprained
wrist of course?” I growled. I could feel my anger growing
with each second.
His face changed instantly, and suddenly he was now
staring at me with soft, kind eyes. What the fuck, was he
bipolar? “You don’t hate me Jen, just as I could never hate
you,” he whispered, frowning at me.
All of a sudden, he was no longer annoyed or angry
with me. Instead, it was like the first time we had met.
That one moment in the car, before all of this shit had
started. He raised his hands, and held my neck gently in it.
A part of me wanted to bat his hand away, but I couldn’t
bring myself to do it. It felt too good. His touch was
nothing like the doctor’s.
Already I could feel tiny electric shocks passing from
his skin to mine. I found that it drained away my irritation
and frustration at him, leaving me with a calm, peaceful
feeling. I closed my eyes, feeling light headed and pressed
my forehead into his chest, just for this small moment
enjoying the peace circling inside my body.
I hadn’t felt this at peace in a long time. Maybe just for
this moment, I could relax and enjoy it. Maybe for just a
second, it was okay to feel free and at peace with myself,
like what happened that night wasn’t my fault.
But it was , I heard Daren’s voice in my head. It is your
fault that I’m dead. I’m dead Jen, and you’re alive - you don’t deserve
to be happy or at peace. He was right. What had happened to
Daren and Brandon was my fault. It was all because of me.
They had died and suffered, and I deserved to be in pain.
Reality struck me a second later like a bullet to the
stomach. My walls immediately went up, and I pulled
away from Eric, shoving him away from me. I didn’t want
this; I couldn’t let myself feel like this. It was wrong. I
didn’t deserve any peace of mind, I deserved to be
miserable.
“No Eric, I don’t hate you,” I said, staring up at his
face. “That would be
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley