Present
I wrap my arms around Elsa as she cries softly into my chest.
She’s been crying for such a long time. When I think no more tears will come, out a new wave hits her and she succumbs to it all over again.
I knew there would be repercussions when she remembers her past.
That day was the darkest day of her life. She lost both her parents and a large chunk of herself.
Back then, I thought she was gone, too.
I thought it was all over.
The memory of that time when I no longer heard her voice has been a constant part of my nightmares.
It’s even worse than the red woman and her torture.
When you have a light in the middle of the darkness and that light dims to nothing, it fucks you up.
That’s why my world became black after that.
I stroke her shoulder as she weeps quietly. My hand glides over the curve of her throat and stop at her pulse. Her beating, throbbing pulse. It’s a constant reminder that she’s alive, not dead.
Her scar is proof she doesn’t have that gush in her chest. Her bright blond hair isn’t soaked in red like when she lay there lifeless.
That’s why I’m obsessed with those three parts of her.
I gather her close to me and her body trembles.
I’m ready to do anything to stop her from crying and hanging on to pieces from the past. However, having her hold on to me as if I’m her lifeline stirs the beast inside me.
For the rest of our lives, I want to be the only one who witnesses her breaking and support her through the storm. I want to be the one who soothes her ache when she needs soothing. The one who wipes her tears when they need wiping. The one who lifts her up when she needs lifting.
I want to be there for her, full stop.
She’s mine. Fucking mine.
It’s not only her body or her heart that I’m interested in, I want her entire soul so she’ll never be able to leave me.
Some would argue this isn’t the right thing, but fuck the right thing.
Elsa and I didn’t meet under the right circumstances. We just met, and then we re-met, and then we became inseparable.
Maybe there’ll come a day where I don’t need her as much as I need air. There will come a day when I wake up in the morning and the first thought won’t be about her.
Though, I doubt it. That day will only come with death.
I run the pad of my thumb under her swollen eyes, wiping the moisture away. Elsa leans into my touch, slowly closing her eyes.
Fuck me.
Her small methods of showing affection get me every fucking time. I like it when she stops fighting our connection and snuggles into me like I’m her world.
Like she also can’t live without me.
One day, she’ll be more open about her feelings and how much she wants me. One day, she’ll wake up beside me and see me, not our past.
It’ll take effort and a lot of persuasion, because Elsa’s brain is wired differently from mine. While I don’t give a fuck about what happened and only see our future together, Elsa is plagued by the past and won’t be whole unless she makes peace with it.
She has been chained to invisible trauma and demons for ten years. Knowing her, she must feel guilty about erasing her memories.
It’ll take her some time to come to terms with what happened, pick up the pieces and move on.
I’ll be with her every step of the way.
“Do you…” She hiccoughs over her words, drawing unsteady breaths. “Do you think it would’ve been different if Dad put her in the psych ward?”
“We can never know. The decision wasn’t ours to make.”
For some reason, this makes it worse, not better. Truth is, if Elsa and I were in Jonathan and Ethan’s shoes, we could’ve probably made the same wrong decision.
The human mind doesn’t work based on theories or what-ifs. It’s heavily chained to circumstances. We were children back then. We knew nothing.
Jonathan and Ethan’s mistakes are their own. Elsa and I will make sure to never make the same ones.
Resting her head on my bicep, she stares up at me with teary, blue eyes. “What happened to you after that?”
“I heard the gunshots.”
She gasps. “You… did?”
“I hit the door and called your name, but you never answered.”
It was the last time I called her name. I can almost feel the ache in my chest as I hit that door until my knuckles were bloodied.
“Then I finally managed to open the door. You and the red woman were lying there”— I point to a spot near the entrance—“in a pool of blood. You were on your side with a dark hole in your chest. Half of the red woman’s face was gone, spluttered all over the wall and the floor, but I didn’t look twice in her direction. You know why?” I dig my fingers into the flesh of her scar over her shirt. “You weren’t moving.”
She places her hand over mine. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I’m not. I’m here, Aiden.”
She is. This isn’t a dream or a nightmare. She’s right here with me.
Like she promised.
“Did you find your way out of the mansion?” she asks.
“No. I think I fainted or something. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital and Jonathan was sitting beside me. One of his insiders or security guards must’ve gotten me out.” I smile with no humour. “The moment I opened my eyes and saw him instead of Alicia, I knew something was wrong.”
She surrounds my arm with her small hand. “I’m so sorry about Alicia.”
“Stop apologising.” I lift her chin so I’m staring down at those hypnotic eyes. “You’re not to blame. You were a victim as well.”
Her bottom lip trembles like when she was about to cry as a child. “You didn’t see me as a victim, Aiden. You told me you’ll destroy me the first time I stepped into RES.”
“That day, I saw the ghost of the red woman. And yes, Elsa. I was angry at you for not keeping your promise. I was even more pissed off that you didn’t remember me, so I wanted you to pay.” I grin. “Then I decided you’re mine.”
Her adorable features light up. “That’s a drastic change.”
I lift a shoulder. “Could be.”
“And you’ve been such a dickhead.”
“You still love me.”
Her cheeks redden, but she remains quiet.
“Say it,” I grip her chin tighter.
“Aiden…” I can see hesitation in her eyes, hear the quivering in her voice. Soon, she’ll be hiding in her frozen castle, refusing everyone access.
“Say it, Elsa,” My tone becomes harsh and non-negotiable.
A sigh rips from her. “I love you, Aiden. No matter what.”
“No matter what, huh?”
“Yes, dickhead. No matter what.”
She wraps her small arm around my midsection and buries her face in my chest. I rest my chin on the top of her golden locks and inhale her coconut scent.
“You used to smell like cotton candies and summer,” I tell her. “And fucking Maltesers.”
“Hey!” She pushes at my chest. “Don’t go insulting my Maltesers. I love them, okay? Besides, you should be honoured I shared them with you. They’re delicious.”
“Not really. I only ate them because you kept shoving them down my throat.”
“You ungrateful arsehole.”
I chuckle, running my fingers through her hair. “I haven’t eaten them since back then.”
“Me neither. I remember wanting them when I was a kid, but Aunt’s strict diet didn’t allow me regular chocolate and sweets. I never asked Uncle for them, though.” Elsa pauses. “I guess deep down, I knew I shouldn’t eat them alone.”
“I’ll buy them for you.” I smile.
“I’ll share.”
We remain like that for a few minutes. For a moment, I forget that we’re in the basement where the red woman tortured me and then died.
I forgot the sight of Elsa lying motionless in her own blood.
For a while, it’s just me and her finding our roots.
When I kidnapped her here, all I wanted was to give her back the connection to her past. Not knowing what would happen was dangerous and left me with no backup plans — except for really kidnapping her and never returning.
I’m not comfortable with the unknown. I thought if she remembered she saved me on the expense of her mother’s death and her own metaphorical death, she’d hate me.
“Do you regret saving me?” I ask in the quietness of the room.
It’s the only vulnerable question I’ve allowed myself over the years. Her mother would still be alive if she didn’t save me.
Her electric blue eyes bore into mine with a deep sense of affection. “I regret many things, but saving you was never one of them. You were my light and I had to protect you.”
“Even if the cost was your mother’s life and your memories?”
“That’s mental illness. It’s neither yours nor my fault.”
I nod once.
I doubt she truly believes that, but I’ll let it pass. We have the entire future to revisit this.
“Who do you think saved me?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I was already passed out at the time.”
She bites her lower lip like she does when in deep thoughts. I lean down and kiss it, making her blush.
“I remember how Ma pulled the trigger, but I don’t remember hearing your voice,” she muses. “Then… Someone held me and —” She gasps. “Oh, my God! There was someone else.”
