Prescription for Miss Walker

My mobile rang for the hundredth time today, the vibrations sending tremors through the coffee table and I lay on the couch, shrouded in a comforter, watching it but never answering. I didn’t know if I could, all I wanted to do was stay here for the rest of time. Until the cancer finally took me out.

It sounded dramatic, I know, but I’d poured my heart out to Ash and no more than a few days later, he dumped me. I’d trusted only one man before him and he broke me. How could I ever do it again?

God, I was so stupid.

Of course he’d pick his wife, they always do. The other woman has to lose out on something beautiful because he realized that he’d never stopped loving his spouse. I’d turn out to be a mistake, a small hurdle in their marriage they’d learn how to get over together.

I didn’t want to be that, but it seemed I didn’t get a say in the matter. This was between them; I was no longer part of the equation. I wasn’t worth a second thought.

And I hated that. So much.

I’d spent nearly two months with Ash, so what did that mean? Everything we had could go to waste just because he said so?

It wasn’t fair.

There was a loud knock on the door, but I ignored it. People weren’t on my to-do list today. Between them and being alone, vulnerable to my own destructive thoughts, I think I preferred the latter.

But the person was insistent, and the rattle of the door getting louder with every thump.

Maybe if I didn’t move, they’d get the hint?

My phone buzzed.

“I know you’re in there, Shira, I can hear your cell.”

Grumbling, I threw the blanket off and stopped in front of it. If I opened up, what was I going to be greeted with? Vicious fury, or mindless sympathy?

I put the chain on the door and creaked it open slowly, just enough that I could be seen, and vice versa.

“When a person doesn’t answer their mobile, that’s a sign to say they don’t want to be disturbed.” My voice was quiet, too much.

August sighed.

“Let me in, Shira. You’ve been cooped up in there for ages, I was worried.”

“And as you can see, I’m in one piece. That should ease your mind.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so snappy, but it did. Yet, I didn’t apologise either.

“What happened? You can trust me.”

Trust. That fucking word. It meant to have undisputed faith in someone, so you could share anything with them, secrets or more – but I heard it all too much recently. And had it broken, too. I was done with trust, because all people do is leave.

“No, I can’t.” I simply said.

August’s face changed, to an emotion I knew all too well.

“Fine, you don’t have to, but know I came here because I love you.”

Somehow unable to control my breathing, my body had a mind of its own, as my hands unclipped the chain and I’d thrown the door open.

He was looking at me, taking in my messed-up shape before he gulped.

“You don’t love me. You can’t. Nobody has ever loved me. I clearly don’t deserve it.” When he stepped forward, I pushed him back. He did so with little stagger. “Why is everyone lying to me!? I’m sick. I’m selfish, and rude, I’ve never done a thing for the benefit of someone else. So, you tell me right now... Is that a person worth your love?”

August stayed calm, as he advanced upon me again. I wasn’t having any of it.

My hands had found his solid chest, pressing down on his warmth, as I fought to heave him away. Hummingbirds sang inside of his breast, completely at ease, at one with itself.

“Get out of here. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to see anyone. Just leave me alone!”

But he didn’t move. I was powerless against him. In all my conscious effort to be rid of him, I was unconscious of the fact that my hands had balled into fists and were battering against his chest, the underside of my palms stinging from the penetration of my nails.

I was flushed, warmth and salty droplets joining me in my fight. Sounds filled the apartment, all of which I knew came from me, a young girl pleading for it all to end.

Instead of talking to me, or trying to calm me down, his arms wound tightly round me. His embrace was so strong, so secure that I collapsed into it. He became my personal tourniquet, as he tried to bandage the pieces together.

“Why – why won’t you go?” I whispered through the pain. His shirt on the underside of my cheek was becoming very wet.

His head touched mine, cuddling into me.

“Why won’t you go?” I repeated.

“Because I love you. And people don’t leave those they love.”

My eyes squeezed tighter. As did my hands, holding on to the man I now knew to be my only connection to everything good, everything perfect.

“He broke up with you, didn’t he?”

Holding back a loud sniffle, I crushed myself in further.

“I’m not going to lie to you, because I know you’ll see right through it, but if a man willingly chooses to let you go,” His hands had ascended, as they tangled in my web of hair. He tugged on the locks gently. “Then he never was worth it. Married or not, he should’ve known what he had and not thrown it back into the ocean.”

I looked up at him, recognizing August for who he was in that moment.

“You are many things, Shira Walker. Disgustingly rude when you want to be, selfish, reckless and far stubborner than anyone I have ever met.” I laughed, even though tears were still making an escape. He brushed them away as he smiled. “But you are also wonderful, you don’t take bullshit and you call it like you see it. There’s a singular word people use for the likes of you...”

He tucked me under the chin, and I swallowed from the intensity. Of his stare, his words, and the way he held me tighter, as if he was afraid I’d disappear.

In such a short period, a one-night stand had turned into something greater.

Greater than the both of us.

His eyes were hard, powerful. The kind that believed in one-hundred percent of what they were saying.

“Strong.”