“Well, I guess we’re even, because you saved mine, too.”
We stayed up until sunrise, talking about the traumas, speaking out all of the hurts and fears we both faced. Even though it was hard, it was needed for us both. It was freeing, speaking into life our troubles. Many parts of that night were tough, and sometimes we had to pause to take five minutes to remind ourselves to breathe. Yet, I was thankful for it all, the quiet moments and the painful ones, too. I was thankful for her willingness to allow me to bleed out against her. I was thankful for her bleeding out onto my soul.
“Kiss me,” she ordered.
I did as she said.
We were two souls praying to be rescued, yet with each kiss we delivered, the waters grew higher. She bit my bottom lip, and I groaned into her. She wrapped her body around my waist, and I held her in my arms. Her hips pressed hard against me, as if she were trying to hold on to me even more. My right hand moved to her chest, and I grasped her breast before moving my mouth to her neck, sucking her, biting her, needing her. Her fingers dug deep into the back of me, almost as if she were clawing into my entire existence.
She pulled back from me and locked her stare with mine. Those beautiful, sad blue eyes.
God, how I hated the sadness in her eyes.
God, how I loved the sadness in her stare.
It reminded me that I wasn’t alone.
Did she see my sadness too?
Could she taste the pain against my lips?
“Lie down,” I ordered.
She did as I said.
She slid my boxers off, and I tossed her white tank top to the side of the room. My tongue danced across her nipple, and she gasped. The sound made me pause for a second, but when she wrapped her hands in my hair and lowered my head back to her chest, I knew I needed to taste every part of her. I needed to engulf her existence to help make the pain of life disappear for a while.
Drowning.
We were drowning. Drowning into the sadness, choking from the pain. With every touch we exchanged, the waves crashed over us. I locked my fingers around the edge of her panties, watching them slide down her beautiful thighs. My mouth kissed her stomach, and I listened to her moan once more, looking up to see her staring at me. I could tell she wanted to shut her eyes, but she couldn’t. She had to watch me, study me.
Yes? I wondered in my mind, staring at her blue eyes.
She nodded once. Yes.
My mouth moved lower, and I kissed her left inner thigh. My tongue slowly dragged across her right inner thigh. Then, I positioned myself against her, sliding into her wetness, feeling the tightness of our fears with each thrust, feeling the waters rising above our heads. Our ship rocked against the tidal waves, breaking and breaking as we lost ourselves.
That night I realized a few things about life. Sometimes the rain was more pleasing than the sun. Sometimes the hurt was more fulfilling than the healing. And sometimes the pieces of a puzzle were more beautiful when scattered apart.
&
nbsp; We made love in the dark. It was messy, it was rough, it was a side of us that we didn’t know existed. We surrendered ourselves to the darkness that night, losing our way, yet somehow feeling closer to home.
As dawn grew closer, our kisses shifted to something more. With each kiss, each thrust, and each moan the tides began to descend. Maggie’s eyes stayed locked with mine every time I rocked deeper into her. I loved how she felt, I loved how she whispered, I loved how she loved me. I loved how I loved her. We wrapped together as we became each other’s anchors, finding our way back to shore.
When the sunbeams flew through the curtains and the birds began to sing, we kept holding one another and made love in the light.
Cheryl: Come home if you can? I need your help.
I stared at the text message from my sister as I stood in the bathroom wrapped in a towel after my shower. I was beyond sleepy after an all-nighter with Brooks. Talking about what had happened to me was probably the hardest thing I’d ever had to do—but it was also the best thing I’d done. It felt as if a few of the chains on my soul were released.
“Brooks,” I hollered. “I think we need to go home.”
No reply.
I walked throughout the house, holding my towel close to me, and I couldn’t find him anywhere. When I stepped out on the porch, the sunlight kissed my skin. My eyes darted out to the lake, and not only did I see him—but I heard him. Brooks was sitting out in the middle of the lake, singing. Singing under the sun.
By the time he came back, I had already gotten dressed and packed my bags.