Nate Part 5
She has so many, countless horizontal scars. They're innumerable, some crossing over others. She cut herself. And judging by the looks of it, it happened several times.
“What happened to you, Isabela?”
“Shut up!” she screams, trying to yank herself free from my touch, forcefully pulling her body away. “Get out of here! I hate you, and you’ll never touch me again.”
She’s so enraged that she manages to break free and punches me in the chest, but I’m faster and grab her. I hold her tightly, pushing past the anger, the hurt I feel toward her, and just allow myself to comfort the broken Isabela. The little sun completely destroyed, who used to awaken the wounded Nate that lives inside of me. Why does looking at her feel like staring into a mirror? Why do I feel like I could’ve prevented those cuts? Why do I feel guilty, even though she’s the one who ended everything?
“Isabela...” I call her name, but she’s roaring in pain, trembling under my body. And I feel like a monster for having said those terrible things to her because now I can see exactly what I said that hurt her so deeply. “I’m sorry for mocking your trauma.”
“Nate... You’re no one to me. And it serves you right that your dinner got screwed up. I hope everything you love gets messed up, that you lose it all!” she shouts, then bites the top of my stomach, growling through her teeth.
“The things I love are already messed up, and apparently, even more than I realized,” I whisper. “Stay out of my way, so you can avoid crying like this!” I snap back because I’m troubled enough to get angry at her words.
And maybe I’m a fool for feeling sorry for her, but I don’t let her keep biting me. I continue holding her tightly against my chest for several moments, pressing her head against it, until the only sound between us is silence. I don’t even know when Isabela started hugging me back, but her arms are wrapped around me. Even though she’s silent, she’s still crying.
“I didn’t want to be in your way,” she whispers weakly, her voice barely audible. “And it hurts, Nate. Your touch hurts, your voice hurts, everything that comes from you hurts. I never wanted to see you again.”
“I didn’t want to see you again either!” I say, placing a sorrowful kiss on her head.
It’s incredible how I feel both anger and guilt. I feel like Isabela deserves the worst of me, for me to be my cruelest self, but now that I’ve given that to her and watched her break, I feel like a piece of shit. I wanted her to feel pain. But seeing her admit it isn’t giving me any satisfaction.
In fact, I came here to hurt her, but I’m leaving wounded, too.
“Then go away!”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m one of the owners of this place.”
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