Medicine Man

“Simon!” She pushes at my body but it’s hardly any pressure. “Get away from me.”

“I did come back.”

“What?”

“The night I came back for my dad,” I reply. “I drove back to the hospital. I stayed the night. By your bed.”

“W-what?”

When I reached home, my dad was already gone. Before I could figure out my next move, Dean found me. His father was out of town again and he texted me. I took him and his sister out for dinner, and then I watched them until they went to sleep, leaving them with my dad’s nurse. Because apparently, their father forgot to hire someone to watch them.

And then I made my way to Heartstone. Back to her. During the entire drive, I kept thinking how stupid I’d been to run to my past when my present is full of people who not only need me but want me too.

“Yeah. I left before you woke up. I didn’t think you’d want to see me after what I did. But…”

For a miniscule fraction of a second, I think about how much to reveal. How much to tell her? But it’s ridiculous – beyond ridiculous – to even wonder that.

I’ll tell her everything.

Every fucking thing.

I soak in her features, her body, her emotions.

The agitation in her eyes, her loose, wet silver hair, her panting chest in her Harry Potter t-shirt, the mounds of her breasts punching through. Her pouty, cherry red lips turned down in anger.

She’s a fucking princess. She’s my princess. Let her see how sick and twisted I am for her.

“But what?” she snaps.

“But I underestimated how much I loved you. How much it would hurt to stay away from you, even if you hated me.”

“What does that…”

She trails off when I move away from her. One step, two. Three.

I yank my tie off. Next off comes my sodden suit jacket. I throw them both on the floor.

“What… What are you…”

“I’m telling you everything. Everything that I am. Everything that’s inside of me.”

I unbutton the top three buttons of my shirt before yanking it off my body. Staring into her eyes, I put my palm on my chest where my tattoo is. Exactly like the one on her wrist. The only difference is mine is on my heart.

“So I came back again. The day you went to the beach.”

Her eyes go wide. Wide and blue like the ocean she went to see all those months ago. She grabs the counter, leaning against it.

“H-how,” she stumbles over her words, her gaze glued to the matching tattoo on my chest.

“I watched you,” I confess. “I looked through your records and I know I shouldn’t have. It’s confidential, invasion of privacy, but I-I wanted to know if you were doing okay. I drove into the city, insane with the thought of just holding you once. I thought I’d tell you everything you wanted to know, all my ugly parts, my anger, my mom, Claire. Everything. I wanted to tell you that you had the right to everything that I am. But then I saw you. You were with Renn and the rest of the girls. You were just coming out of the building where you live.”

Pressing my palm over my chest, I rasp, “You were so fucking beautiful. So white and glowing under the sun and… and my heart started beating. After days. Weeks. I followed you like some fucking pervert. You went to the beach. I saw you on the sand. You had glasses on. A hat. I know you hated being out there but you still went. You stayed as long as your friends wanted. You looked up at the sky, as if you were not afraid of the sun anymore. And even if you were, you weren’t going anywhere.”

She had a white bikini on, so virginal, so pure.

Like her skin.

Like her.

“And then, you went to the tattoo shop. I went in after you’d left. I paid the guy at the counter extra to give me the same tattoo that you had. Two Ws.”

It’s written in a thin and tiny script, one W overlapping the other.

“W-why didn’t you…”

“Because you were living. Despite everything, you were fighting. You didn’t give up. What if I came back into your life and broke you again? What if seeing me brought back all the pain of that day? I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t take away your one chance to be happy, to live a life. So I kept myself away. But I kept coming back. Every day since then.”

At her stunned expression, I take a step toward her. “Every morning you leave your apartment at 8:30AM. You go to the coffee shop on the corner and order a large cappuccino. You smile at the barista and he smiles back. Because he has a crush on you. He watches you when you leave. He doesn’t take his eyes off you until you have completely disappeared.”