Shackles & Roses

Seventeen

I lay under the bed covers, relishing how warm it is. My arms are wrapped about Bailey's middle, chin resting just above her head on the pillow. Every time I breathe in I am rewarded with her hair tickling my skin, and my senses heady with her sweet scent.

We've felt closer than ever for the past few days. At Bailey's request, we've stayed at home watching movies under blankets and snuggling by the fire, Illa included. Our little family together again.

Illa's reaction to Bailey was not what I expected. I thought she would go crazy, run to meet her. Instead, she acted as if Bailey wasn't there, coming into the room and sitting across my feet like there was no one unusual in the room.

Bailey doesn't seem to mind, though. She's been more worried about nagging me to get in contact with Mum, with Addie. To tell someone about her. With every meal that passes she seems to become more agitated about it, reminding me more often and finding sitting still more difficult. I walked into the living room just after lunch yesterday to find her pacing by the window, eyes on the street outside like an animal that's locked up, watching the outside world with longing eyes.

For her to stay still for so long right now is a miracle, as even during the night last night she was tossing and turning at all hours, waking up once to go and stare out the window with wide eyes. I've seen her eyeing my phone, as if weighing up whether she can make a leap for it. I don't know what to do to help her, or even what's wrong. If I attempt to bring it up, she just shakes her head and asks me if I've told anyone about her yet. She constantly checks how I'm doing.

And I wonder; am I enough for her? Is being back making her ill?

Is she going to leave me again?

So today I've decided that we're going to leave the house, in an attempt to help her overcome her restlessness. I don't know if it will work, but I think that some fresh air will do both of us some good.

She shifts in my arms, and I place a smile on my face, so that it's the first thing she'll see if she opens her eyes. She doesn't need to know my inner turmoil.

Her eyes blink open, their blue deeper than usual in her sleepiness. Bailey yawns, left arm stretching backwards as she does, so that her hand presses back into my leg. She blushes, pushing up into a sitting position. I let my arm fall back to the bed from being around her.

"Sorry," she mumbles, eyes on the carpet.

"Don't worry about it," I frown, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She flinches, but I don't take it off. "You don't need to apologise, Bails."

Her only response is a shrug before she slides out of bed, self-consciously pulling my top further down her thighs.

"Are... Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just need to..." She doesn't finish her sentence before she walks out of the bedroom. Worry clenches my gut, and I throw back the duvet, hurrying after her.

I find Bailey standing at the kitchen counter, back to me. The kettle is beginning to boil beside her. Her eyes are fixed on a point a little higher up the wall than would be normal for her height. As I step into the room, I get the distinct feeling that I'm disturbing something. But I have no idea what.

"Bailey?"

She doesn't seem to hear me, not even a flicker of movement coming from her to show that she's registered my words.

"Baby?" I speak a little louder of the kettle's rising whistle, take another step towards her. Still, she doesn't move.

The kettle is reaching its peak point for noise, blocking out any sound. I take another two steps, hesitance lining my innards with tension. The kettle quietens, and I take the final step, placing a gentle hand on her waist just as she reaches for the handle of the kettle.

Her movements pause, arm hovering in mid-air. Everything seems to have stopped, like even the house itself is holding its breath.

"Bailey," I whisper, pressing my lips to the back of her head. "Please tell me what's wrong."

Her entire body quivers under my hand. I reach my other hand round to hers, still held in mid-air, and encompass her shaking fingers in mine, guiding them back down to rest on the counter top.

Just like something snapped, she breaks down in my arms. Her legs buckle, and I only just catch her before she drops to the tiles. Tears stream down her cheeks, head hung like she's lost all the strength needed to hold it up on her own.

"We can't keep doing this, Alex. When's it gonna end? When do we admit to ourselves what's really happening here? When will you accept that this isn't real!"

I have no words, just gentle hands. I slowly lower us to the kitchen floor, cradling her head to my chest where she sits between my splayed legs.

"Every time you smile at me, it hurts so bad! Because I know that I'll have to leave again, and all it's going to do is hurt you! Why do I always have to be the one hurting you? Why won't you ever hurt me? Hurt me! Make this easier! Make me hate you so much that I can do this without feeling guilty!"

I can't breathe. Her words are knives, bleeding out my heart. This conversation is all too familiar.

"It's not fair! It's not fair!" Her voice cracks, more tears slipping down her perfect cheeks.

I fight to stay in the present, batting away threads of memories threatening to overwhelm me. Now is not the time or the place for this. Bailey needs me.

"It's not fair!" she screams, body lurching forwards in my arms, trying to escape.

My vision blurs, panic overwhelming my mind. My grip loosens, and that's all Bailey needs. She scrambles to her feet, slipping and sliding on the floor with unsteady feet. And then she's at the doorway, bashing into the doorframe on her way through, which is when I lose sight of her. My mind feels crowded, and everything I'm seeing is through a fog of terror and fierce sadness, so strong I feel it must surely rip open my chest.

It doesn't. I wish it would.

The front door slams with such a loud crash the walls seem to rock. Or maybe that's just my head spinning. I pull myself to my feet using the edge of the table, stumbling sideways into one of the chairs as another dagger of pain rips through my torso.

I don't remember leaving the house. Bailey's sobbing haunts my mind. Is this what it felt like for Addie a few days ago? My bare feet are protesting at the cobbles I stand on, the cuts from before not appreciating the exertion. They'll probably reopen.

I frantically check the street for her but she's not in sight. In that moment, I know that she is truly gone. She's left me alone once more. I feel hollow. There is no heart left in my chest.

"Bailey!"

The only response is Illa, barking from inside the house. I ignore her and sink to the ground on the doorstep, a trickle of blood staining it from my ripped up feet. I cradle my head in my hands.

She's gone.