Follow the River

“Just let me say something before I give this to you, yeah? Because…fuck I have to say this before the guilt eats me alive.” He pauses to swipe a hand over his face, letting it linger over his eyes before dropping it down to the counter. Then those amber orbs latch onto mine and the amount of regret painted in them causes me to catch my breath.

“What I did to you…it can never be undone. No matter how much I want to take back that day, I don’t have that kind of power over the universe. And it just about fucking kills me.” He takes a deep breath, anxiety crossing his features. His fingers twitch against the counter for a second before they find themselves ru

“An experience like that can shape who you are as a person. I mean, you hear horror stories about rape and non-consensual sexual encounters and most of the time the people come out the other side fucked up beyond belief. It’s sickening and for the life of me, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Hold the motherfucking phone.

Rape?

Is that what he thinks happened in the shower?

But yet again when I go to open my mouth to speak, I’m cut off. This time by a glare cast from Rain.

“River, let me…fuck, please just let me talk.” The hoarseness of his voice sounds as if he swallowed gravel. “I crossed the line. You’ve taunted me and antagonized the ever-loving hell out of me for months. I held out on anything more than a punch and a few harsh words for the most part. But something inside me snapped and it was like all these pieces fell into place and the only way I could formulate a plan to get you off my fucking back was to pull a stunt so fucking heinous you wouldn’t have a choice but to ignore me the rest of the time we were here. Or risk having it happen again.”

Shame takes over his handsome face and I fucking hate it. I hate all of this.

That we found ourselves rooted against each other for no damn reason when we could have been friends from the begi

Mostly I hate that he felt the need to go to such extreme measures to ward me off. I was driving him so fucking crazy he felt the need to…

“You wanted me to be afraid of you,” I whisper in revelation, holding his gaze.

He nods, his throat working to swallow. “I did. It wasn’t right and I understand that. There were a million other things I could have done. Hell, I could’ve hiked my ass to town and gotten a hotel for the night. Called an Uber to take me back to Boulder or fucking anything else other than the course I chose to follow.”

I can tell by the set of his face he believes the bullshit coming from his mouth like they were words spoken by Jesus himself.

And it most definitely is bullshit because here’s the thing. Rain had a goddamn meltdown when he thought I left him stranded in this cabin only a couple days ago. Full out screamed at me about it, reamed me a new asshole for not letting him know I went for a damn hike when that’s something he’s done regularly since we’ve arrived.

So, do I think he would leave me here on my own for another three plus weeks and just leave? Nah, it’d never happen.

Finding a sasquatch riding a unicorn would be more likely.

“You don’t mean that,” I mutter, my nostrils flaring because fuck letting him sit here let guilt eat him alive. “You would never.”

He doesn’t respond, just clenches his jaw rapidly. I watch, transfixed on the pulse point coming from the action. Neither of us speak for a moment, letting the agitation in the air grow to uncomfortable levels. I’m not about to speak more, not when the ball is in his court to keep this conversation moving forward. So I keep my eyes trained on him while he bites his lip, trailing his fingers over the envelope.

What the fuck is in there that has him so worked up?

“I’m so fucking sorry, River. I can’t even begin…” he trails off and shakes his head before glancing up at the ceiling. “Just know I would give anything to take back that morning in the shower. To erase it from history, so it never happened.”

My heart aches at the anguish present in his voice.

Regret and remorse are normal emotions to feel when you fuck up. Every person in the world, except maybe the population who are full blown sociopaths, feel them. I get that.

But to be at the point where he wants to alter the course of our history? It means he’s holding onto this too hard. Up until now, I hadn’t realized that morning had a lasting impact on him as well. I guess it’s ingrained in both our memories, never to be forgotten.

And yeah, does it suck the first time he was inside my body, the first time we had sex, my consent was dubious at best?

Yeah, it fucking sucks a whole damn lot. But neither of us can change it at this point. What’s done is done.

“But it did happen,” I reply softly. “It happened and it’s useless to live in the past, drowning in our regrets.” Biting my lip, I tap the edge of the counter anxiously to the beat of the song in my brain.

It’s started changing a lot more frequently now, which I’ve found odd but I’m rolling with the punches. Something Rain clearly needs some practice in.

“How can I not live in regret when I think of what I did every time I look at you?”

I try not to wince at his words, but they fucking gut me. Not for the reason someone might think though. I know I’m not some scared and frightened animal attempting to lick my wounds the big bad wolf inflicted on me.

I’m strong. Resilient. I’ve more than proven I can stand on my own against him and even come out on top.

I’ve done so multiple times.

No, what hurts about his words is the broken way he says them. That he can’t see past his mistake and look at the past few days through different eyes.

Because hell, these past few days not fighting with him have been, dare I say…fun. He’s a lot of fun to be around when he’s not being a brooding douchewaffle who has his mind set on making me fucking miserable.

“Let me ask you something, Rain,” I say, looking at him down the island, loathing the space separating us still. “Did you ever once hear me tell you no?”

That gets his attention. His hand freezes on the envelope at the same time his head slowly rises. I watch a war battle in his eyes while he thinks back on that morning. Most likely in vivid detail, judging from the way his eyes sink closed once again.

I remember it well too.

The burn of the soap, the vindictive words he spoke in my ear.

Yeah, I remember it all and honestly? I don’t have it in me to hold it against him. Even before he apologized.

Clearly, since I’ve let him fuck me multiple times since then.

“No,” he responds with a voice being cut open by glass. “You never said no.”

I nod, knowing he’s correct. “And did I ever ask you to stop?”

He licks his lips and shakes his head, eyes still closed. “No.”

I nod again, but I can see I’m still not getting through to him. He won’t open his eyes, he won’t look at me still. And I can’t fucking stand it.

“Look at me, Rain.” It’s a request, a plea.

For him to see we’re equals. The other morning was just another bump in the already treacherous road for us to get to the point we’re at right now. Which, if I’m being honest, I don’t know what it is.