“Is that why you’re out here? To get away from it for a while?” she asked.
“Yeah.” No. It hadn’t been why, but now I realized possibly it was a part of the reason.
She reached for the bag in my hands. “Let me take this inside. You go find a quiet spot and recharge.”
I didn’t hand over the heavy bag. I held it unsure if I could go back in there just yet, or if I had to make myself so she would leave. Keeping her here was not something I should entertain. The more I opened up and relaxed with her the more difficult this would become.
“Will you come back?” I asked. My mouth completely ignoring my head. What the fuck was I doing?
“Do you want me to?” she asked, her eyes so damn sincere. She would return to me out here. All I had to do was say I wanted her to and she was back. This would not end well. I should thank her and take the huge bag inside. Forget the way she affected me. I should but today . . . I wasn’t going to be able to.
“Yeah, I do.” Fuck it, that was the truth. Today I could accept the fact I was weak. My emotions raw and her being here made that easier. For whatever reason it was. Possibly the voodoo I’d experienced last night.
She smiled then. As if my blunt honest answer was exactly what she wanted to hear. “I’ll be right back. I promise,” she said then took the bag and I watched as she entered the hospital.
When the automatic doors closed behind her, I scanned the area for somewhere to go. Standing at the entrance wasn’t far enough away and anyone who came by to check on things would see me. I’d have to talk to them. They wouldn’t be Ophelia and therefore I wouldn’t be interested in speaking.
I wasn’t going to think too hard about why I wanted Ophelia close. Just her company. I’d given up overthinking shit this past year. I just went with it. Lived life and knew regret would always be there. Just as I knew I wouldn’t change the past even if I could. My actions would have still been the same outcome. Except I’d have seen my gran this past year. That I would change. I regretted missing out on Christmas at her house. What if it had been the last year she was alive for the holidays and I’d missed it? Even though I would want to go back and be here that would have been impossible too. Because the events that had happened during that time had brought me to my lowest point. I’d been unable to see anyone then. I didn’t even remember Christmas Day. Darkness slowly came with the sorrow attached to those days. I’d worked hard to find my balance again.
I slammed a fist into the trunk of a tree three times until the skin broke on my knuckles and I saw the blood. Didn’t fix shit and the small sting of pain wasn’t enough. Regret wasn’t something you could control. One small detail Grate O’Neill hadn’t told me. But then Grate had lived a much different life than mine. Maybe regret wasn’t an issue for him at all.
The day I’d walked into his shop to get my first tattoo I’d been so damn naïve he’d taken pity on me. Taught me things. Shown me a world I hadn’t lived before. Without Grate, I wondered if I would have come through any of the things that followed. Grate hadn’t been through the pain I had been trying to fight through, but his had been just as intense and it had been longer. He’d lived a life so very different than mine.
“You’re bleeding.” Ophelia’s voice brought me back to the here and now. I glanced down at my hand before I looked at her. She was already taking a seat on the grass beside me. I felt bad about not sitting a few feet over on the wooden bench, but she seemed fine with joining me on the grass.
“Yeah, I had a moment,” I said with no more explanation.
Ophelia opened her purse and pulled out a tissue then handed it to me. “Clean it up some with this,” she said then continued to dig. I watched her as I absently wiped away the blood. The tissue wasn’t going to do much, but I wasn’t going to be rude and point it out.
Then she lifted a small pink animal print container from her purse and opened it. I watched as she began taking out first aid items.
“You carry around antiseptic wipes and bandages in your purse?” I asked amused.
She was busy opening one of the small square antiseptic wipes, but she lifted her gaze to me. “Are you mocking me?” she asked.