Finding Eden

"You smell different," she murmured. "Like laundry soap."

I shook my head and smiled. This. Was. Incredible. Holding my morning glory. I felt like I was living a dream. We were both silent for several more minutes. "We have so much to talk about."

"I know." But neither of us pulled away, and neither of us asked any questions. I felt her heartbeat against me, steady and sure, and my own sped up. Her softness pressed into me and she was real and solid and alive.

Something shifted, the molecules in the air spun faster around us. Eden lifted her head and gazed into my eyes and then before I had even decided to do it, my lips were on hers and we both moaned, a mixed sound of desperation and relief. My tongue entered her warm, wet mouth and she pressed her body to mine, as we tasted each other, re-familiarizing ourselves.

We began tearing at each other's clothes, shaky, desperate, with no finesse at all. I walked her backward until she slammed up against the wall, a whoosh sound coming up her throat. I drank it down, pressing into her harshly. She pressed back against me, gripping handfuls of my hair and tugging.

I pulled away and lifted my shirt off my body in one swift movement and then lifted Eden's over her head, too. She gasped out.

I unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall, and Eden tripped over her own feet as she bent to remove her own jeans. I caught her, going down sideways to the hardwood floor. We hit with a thud and both grunted out in discomfort. Under other circumstances, it might have been comical, but for me, in that moment, there was only fear and an achy, clawing need. It was almost as if we both wanted to open each other's skin and crawl inside, bury ourselves so deeply that it would be impossible to ever separate us again.

When we were completely undressed and skin-to-skin, we both sighed out again and our kisses grew slower, deeper, some of the desperate need quenched, at least for that moment.

I held her face gently in my hands, one elbow holding me up on the floor as I leaned over her. She brought her hand down and gripped my erection in her fist and I groaned and pressed myself into her hand. It had been so long since I had felt this way—it was still the same. Eden still brought out the same fiery need in me that made me feel as if flames were licking up the inside of my skin.

She pulled me on top of her a little more and wrapped her legs around my hips. We were both trembling, the sounds we were making small, gaspy declarations of our joy, or distress, or aching want. I didn't even know—maybe all of those and even more.

All the things we'd been through together swirled around just at the perimeter of my mind, speeding up my blood, my fear, my longing. Then all the excruciating anguish of the past three years without her invaded my thoughts. Our tears mixed as we kissed, making her taste both sweet and salty.

My desperation to push into her body twisted me inside out. But I took a steadying breath.

I would protect her this time.

I broke from her mouth and reached for my jeans where I took out my wallet and with shaking fingers, removed a condom. I looked back at her and ripped it open with my teeth. Her eyes registered the recognition of what I was doing and grew large with grief. Her face crumpled and her shoulders started shaking slightly as more tears fell. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry." Whether it was because the condom was an acknowledgment of the agony she'd endured because we hadn't known enough to be careful the first time, or whether it was simply the fact that I had one at all, I wasn't exactly sure. I could only figure it was probably a mixture of both.

She nodded her head. "I know, I know," she whispered. It was as if Eden heard my internal thoughts and was answering both concerns. As if she still knew my heart well enough and forgave me for the ways I'd failed her. My morning glory. Once I'd rolled the condom on, she pulled me down to her again and kissed me deeply. When I plunged inside of her, she broke from my mouth and tipped her head back, gasping out. Oh God, oh God. The feeling was exquisite, blindingly beautiful. She was exquisite. My vision grew blurry, stars burst before my eyes. I grunted and began to move, the pleasure so intense, goosebumps broke out on my entire body.

"Eden, Eden, I was dead without you. Oh God, I've been walking around like a ghost—half in this world, and half in the other. Eden . . ." I moaned out the words, all of them flowing together so that I wasn't even completely sure if I'd said them out loud or if they'd just flown through my own mind in a burst of firing synapses.

Eden pulled me closer, clenching her legs around me tighter and moaned out, "Yes, yes." I didn't know if she was answering me or just moaning out her pleasure. I licked up the side of her neck, the sweet and salty taste of her skin exploding on my tongue. I wanted to devour her. I groaned and pumped inside her harder and faster, our skin slapping together and her back making loud contact with the wood beneath her. She gripped handfuls of my hair, pulling roughly as she gasped out.

And then we were nothing but a tangled, gasping, moaning blur of skin and heat and mouths and thrusting pleasure. Everything about it was surreal. Somewhere far off in the distance, my brain registered the strange harshness of how we were going about this, but it felt so necessary to my existence that I didn't investigate the thought. I couldn't investigate the thought. I had my girl in my arms. Nothing else mattered. I just let the relief wash over me, our joining bringing a calm I needed so desperately I was animalistic in my pursuit of it.

I felt Eden tense under me as she arched her head back and cried out her cl**ax. Her hands came to my back and she scraped her fingernails down my skin so hard, I was sure she had drawn blood. For some reason it inflamed me even further and I swelled inside her. Her breathy sounds of dwindling pleasure brought on my own and bliss swirled in my abdomen, moving downward until I tensed and jerked inside her, groaning into the sweetness of her throat.

We both lay there for several long minutes, our breathing slowing, our heartbeats taking up an even, steady rhythm. I leaned up and looked down into her face. Her expression was gentle, but still sad. I smoothed the hair away from her face and leaned forward and kissed her again softly. I slid out of her and rolled over onto my back, bringing her with me.

I took a deep breath. Again, we lay there together for several minutes, my hands running up and down her arms as she held on to me tightly. When I registered I was still wearing a condom, I said softly, "Let me get rid of this real quick." I nodded my head downward and she sat up.

After I'd cleaned myself up and wrapped a towel around my waist, I stood against the bathroom wall, just trying to get control of my racing heart, massaging my chest as if something inside had broken.  Or perhaps was piecing itself back together.

When I came back from the bathroom, Eden had pulled her clothes back on and was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows staring out at the night. I stopped and just stood there for a minute watching her, bathed in moonlight and city lights, my heart squeezing in my chest.

"It's how I've always loved you best," I said.

She turned, cocking her head to the side in question.

"Under moonlight," I said, walking toward her.

She smiled softly.

"For a minute, standing there, I thought you were a vision and I had made this all up in my mind. Will I ever stop thinking that?"

She turned toward me and shook her head. "I don't know. I don't know how this works. I never imagined—"

"Didn't you ever think I might be alive? Even for a minute?"

She shook her head. "I saw the wreckage, Calder. I watched it all come crashing in. I saw the bodies, the water still covering it all. I . . ." She took in a big, shaky breath. "That was the moment I died inside." Her eyes widened in horror as if she was picturing it, feeling the emotions of that moment again. Instinct made me reach out to her and grab her hands. "There was no way . . ." She choked out a small sob. "I left you there," she whispered, misery etched into her beautiful features. "Oh God, Calder," she brought her hand to her mouth and then dropped it, "I left you there." She shook her head back and forth as if in denial. "I'll never, ever forgive myself. As long as I live, I'll never—"

I pulled her toward me and held her against my chest. "Shh," I said, rubbing my hand over her hair. "There was no way you could have known. I saw the wreckage on the news. I wouldn't have had any hope either. I promise you, I don't blame you for assuming no one could have survived that." She nodded her head, but still looked miserable when she pulled away. "Let's go sit," I said, leading her toward the wall to the right of the windows. "I'm sorry I don't have any furniture."

She sat down on the floor, leaning back against the wall. I dropped the towel and pulled on my discarded jeans and went and sat down next to her, pulling her against me. When my back hit the wall, I could feel the sting of the wounds she had caused with her fingernails. I wanted to sigh out with the somehow wonderful feel of the pain, proof she existed. I realized in that moment that it had been the same with the emotional pain, too. All these years, something in me had grasped onto it, not ever wanting to let it go. Truthfully, a big part of me had wanted to dive into the anguish and drown in it. I had wanted it to torture me, bury me alive. A part of me loved it, because it was all I had of her.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and leaned in to my body. I took a minute to let my soul rejoice, closing my eyes and breathing in the scent of her hair.

"Xander told me how you got out," she said in a whisper.

I nodded, pulling her closer, allowing myself to remember. "When I was dragged to that cell, I was mostly unconscious. I . . . well, you saw the state I was in. I'd been shot, too. I didn't even realize it until I tried to stand." She looked up at me sadly, but didn't say anything. After a second, she laid her head back down on my shoulder. "I lost a lot of blood, but I only have a scar to show for it now." I sighed out, going silent for a minute. Eden waited.

"I thought I was going to die. I figured it was a given. And I almost felt a certain . . . acceptance. I came to here and there and I heard the screams. I just kept thinking that you were out there somewhere among them, and it tore my guts out, Eden. I don't even want to go back there in my mind to describe it to you."

She squeezed my waist and said very quietly. "It's okay, you don't have to. I know."

I nodded, feeling the sadness settle around me. "I'm so sorry. What you went through. And I wasn't there."

She looked up at me again and put her fingers to my lips. "There was literally not one more thing you could have done. You fought with all your might, everything you had in you. You don't think I know that?"

"And it wasn't enough!" I choked out.

She let go of my waist and turned toward me and put her forehead to mine and we just breathed together for a minute. "It was enough. We're both here. Do you see that now? It was enough. Whatever we did, it ended up being enough. We've already forgiven each other. Maybe we can manage to forgive ourselves now, too."

Tears were running down Eden's face again and she swiped at them. "Hector put us both in the only two places in that hellhole where there was enough air to survive. The gods forgot to mention that little tidbit of information to him." She let out a very small, humorless laugh. I looked up at her and then laughed a small laugh, too.

We were both silent for a minute. "The cave in," she finally said. "Were you conscious then?"

"No. After the screaming, I don't remember anything until I heard Xander's voice above me. He says I was banging something and that's how he knew where to look for me in the debris, but I don't remember that. The next thing I knew, I was waking up at a friend of Kristi's." He grimaced. "I didn't even want to be alive. I was so damned pissed I was alive. I think I still was, until about two hours ago."

Eden sighed, shaking her head and bringing her hand to my cheek again for a second before bringing it away. "I know about that, too," she whispered.

We were both silent, just staring into each other's eyes for a few moments. "Tell me the rest," she finally said.

"Kristi's former roommate was a medical student. She told him a story about me being in a gang. Anyway," I sighed, running my hand through my hair, "he fixed me up the best he could and a week later, Xander and I got on a bus and came here."

A look of grief passed over Eden's features and she shook her head slowly. "Three years and we've been in the same city all along."

I felt the same grief and regret fill my chest. "Yeah," was all I could manage to croak out.

We were both quiet for a minute. "Eden . . ." I looked into her eyes. "You know it was my water system that caused the flood, right?" I already figured she must. The re-enactment of what the police thought happened that day had been on the news over and over again. Of course, they weren't there. We were. And only I knew that they had gotten a few things wrong.

Eden's expression gentled. "It was Hector who caused the flood. He just happened to use your water system to . . . deliver the water from the rising river right over the cellar so that when the rain came . . ." She trailed off, not finishing that thought.

I put my head down and massaged the back of my neck. "I built that system." I looked up at her. "And Eden, Hector didn't rig it. I'm the one who kicked it over. It wasn't Hector, it was me. I kicked it over in a fit of rage."

Eden blinked at me. "Oh, Calder," she whispered.

"See, it was my fault. If I hadn't done that, all those people—"