Turning Back ~ d.t.

XII

Kendal

Is it bad that I got into his car without hesitation? Maybe I seemed desperate for a moment like this but I don't care. I needed this.

"Where are we going exactly?" I ask hesitantly. I don't know what I expected him to say. "My house." He murmurs.

The thought of being at his house again makes my heart race. It's been so long and I know memories are going to flood back to me as soon as I step in.

The house was one that I shared with Ethan. He was kind enough to let me move in and now I'm stuck with Racheal because of my dumb mistake. I love Racheal but her small apartment makes me feel claustrophobic sometimes.

"You said you wanted to fix this so I figured it'd be good for the both of us." He says simply, referring to his hand. I'm determined to get the backstory.

The rest of the ride is silent but for once I didn't mind. Something told me that we didn't need to talk. The silence said everything it needed to.

As he pulls into his familiar driveway my heart begins to race. "It's been a while huh." He says quietly. "Yeah. It's weird." I mutter. He just nods and parks the car.

I follow him up his porch steps and to his door. He unlocks the door and swings it open.

I stop right in my tracks as soon as I see the glass shattered all over the floor. "Ethan." I gasp. This must've happened just last night considering his hired help hasn't cleaned it up yet.

"We should probably go to the bathroom. I should have a kit up there." He murmurs as he holds his injured hand in his normal one.

I follow him to the bathroom as I look down at all the glass. I make note of cleaning it up. He can't live like this.

As we enter the bathroom I make him sit on the toilet seat. Now he's a little shorter than me as I look for the kit.

I find the kit and I can't help but look at him for a little while. He's so different. Tattoos litter his arm and his hair is longer.

"So are you gonna tell me what happened?" I ask as I begin to untangle the sloppily put on bandage. He sighs and I give him a stern look.

"I was upset when I got home last night so I threw a couple things and then I cut my hand." He rambles. I nod. I half expected him to say something like that.

Ethan

She gasps as she finally gets the bandage off. I know it looks bad. Thank god she's here to help. I don't know what I would've done.

"There's still glass in your hand." She sighs. She grabs the tweezers and she looks at me for permission. I just nod as I prepare myself.

I groan as she begins to pick the small shards out of my hand. "I'm sorry." She mutters quickly.

We fall silent as she continues to focus. Thankfully no cut is deep enough to require stitches.

"I'm sorry about last night." I blurt. She takes her eyes off my hand and they meet mine. "I shouldn't have been so mean towards you. I know you didn't mean for that to happen." I murmur. It's the first time I've thought rationally in a while and something tells me it's because she's by my side.

"I'm sorry I let it happen. I know it was stupid of me. I just felt so frozen and now I feel stuck." She rambles. "Why do you feel stuck?" I ask, genuinely wanting to know. "I don't want to hurt anybody." She mutters.

She's always been like that. So well aware of other's feelings. I've always admired it because I was always the exact opposite.

After she finishes up my hand she wraps it back up neatly. I watch her in awe. Her touch is so gently. It was a touch someone could never get enough of.

"What do all these tattoos mean?" She ask as she gently runs her hand up my forearm. "Various things." I shrug.

Her small fingers begin to trace a lot of the little tattoos. I can tell she's fascinated and I find it cute.

"Thank you for fixing my hand." I murmur as I watch her face closely. She only glances at me and then her eyes return to the ink on my arm. "No problem." She says softly.

"What do these numbers mean?" She ask as her eyes land on them. "It's a date." I say quickly as I glance at the tiny numbers jumbled up in the rest of the tattoos.

Her eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. I know to her it seemed like a random date. In fact it was. The day was so random.

"The date of what?" She ask, tilting her head to the side. I don't know why I'm spilling all of this to her now that we're not together but I feel comfortable doing it.

"The day you came into my life. The day of your interview." I say flatly. She stiffens and I know she has no clue what to think. Up to this moment she probably thought I hated her for ruining my wedding but I couldn't. I couldn't look at her and forget everything she's done for me.

"You've done a lot for me. Changed me for the better. I figured I should mark the date that made my life the way it is." I murmur. Her hands leave my arm and I miss the touch. I want her to touch me again so badly.

I look up at her and I can see she's crying. I immediately feel frantic. "I'm such an awful person. I made your life hell." She murmurs.

I stand up from my seat and take her face into my good hand and rub her cheek with the pad of my thumb. "Not at all." Is all I say. It must've worked because her rapid breathing slows as she looks at me.

Here she was, in my arms again. I didn't want to miss any of this. So I kissed her. I kissed her softly but with great meaning.

Word count 1059