Ginger Fox Part 3
"Was it here someone asked for a ride?" I observe the calm man, with a serene gaze, looking at me from inside the car.
I step away from my suitcase, which I forced myself to carry down the stairs in my arms so as not to drag it on the floor and make noise. I kissed Jon’s peaceful face goodbye as he slept in bed. It hurts to know I’m leaving him. I didn’t want to wake him up, but I also couldn’t wait for him to wake up. My wounded heart, though stumbling, still holds a great love for the sweet boy, who would have kept me there with his desolate gaze. When I passed through the mansion gates, it was just before dawn; I didn’t want to stay. I don’t want to stay. That’s when I found myself dialing the only number I could for help to leave the island.
Dexter parks the car a little ahead, looking curiously at my tear-swollen face and bandaged fingers.
"Tough night, Miss Fox?" He walks over, not letting me lift the suitcase, and grabs it before I can, carrying it to the car.
"Could you help me get off the island, Dexter? Just leave, without asking questions?" His face turns to me, his hands slipping into his pockets as he glances at the road leading to the mansion.
"Come on, I’ve got some hot coffee with brandy waiting for you on the boat." He steps ahead of me, getting into the car. My fingers grip the passenger door he unlocked from inside.
I don’t look back; I don’t want to look. I just force myself to move forward. Dexter accepts my silence, and I press the side of my face against the car window, my gaze lost in the brightening sky. The drive to his boat is the same—no words, no questions, just the abyss within me. It’s how I remain when I step onto his boat anchored at the pier.
"Well, it’s not a mansion, but you can rest a bit before we set off." I want to smile at him, but I can’t muster even the slightest emotion. I can’t feel anything but pain.
"Thank you, Dexter." I hug myself, sitting on the small couch inside the cabin.
"I’ll get you some coffee. Coffee helps me when my mind won’t stop." He’s a solitary man. If it were any other time, curious Ginger would be exploring every corner of the tiny cabin, chatting happily with him just to learn more about his life.
But I’ve silenced her, locked her away with foolish Gim, leaving me empty and shattered.
"Drink this, it’ll warm you up inside, Miss Fox." He hands me a mug, looking at me calmly.
I feel the hot liquid slide down my throat, with a slight taste of brandy mixed with caffeine. Maybe I really do need to numb myself from the inside out to disconnect. I rub my face in dismay, curling up on the couch, exhaling the exhausted air trapped inside me.
"Why did you come here, Miss Fox? To this island? What really drove you to end up in this place?"
My attention is fixed on the spiked coffee mug in my hands, staring at it blankly. I recall the anguish in my chest, dealing with my mother’s ceremonial fantasies; how I suffered inside, unsure if I was making the right decision or not; seeing myself living a life I didn’t want and having no idea who I truly was.
"To find myself." I exhale, weary, bringing the coffee mug to my lips.
I was searching for myself, and in my quest, I lost myself on the first day when my eyes collided with Jonathan’s, so quiet and mesmerizing. Perhaps, if I had limited myself to looking at him for more than two seconds, I might have had a chance to see what was hidden there.
"And did you find yourself?" I lift my gaze to Dexter, who, even without saying what he thinks, analyzes me as if he knows I found much more than I was looking for.
I found a painful love that has marked me forever.
"Yes," I whisper, extending the mug to him. My fingers pull the hood of my jacket, bringing it over my head, and I shift my gaze to the small window, looking out at the sea.
"I understand. I’ll let you rest for a while." He moves, stopping near the cabin door. "I’ll let you know when it’s almost time to leave."
I just nod to him, without taking my eyes off the waves, locking myself away with my pain. I close my eyes, feeling a solitary tear slide down my cheek.
"Just feel," he breathes warmly against my face, pulling me into his arms in a way that’s painfully familiar.
I cry harder between my sobs. I’m weak, sick, and even now, in front of him, I let him comfort me from the very harm he’s done. His hand grips my wrist tightly, pressing my fingers flat against his chest. I hear Baby’s screams as she pounds on the office door, begging to be let in after he dragged her out. Everything quiets, falling into silence, and all I hear is the sound of his heavy breathing mingling with my pain.
"I can’t undo what I’ve done, little Nautilus." His kiss on my forehead burns like embers on my skin. He drags his lips across my face as if trying to swallow my pain into himself. "I can’t say I made the best choice, but I had to feel something, had to try anything to pull myself out of the state of being half-alive."
I try to pull away—I need to distance myself from this sick love, but I can’t. I use my free fist to pound against his chest, unleashing the madness that lives inside me. I had given him everything—my world, the world I didn’t even know how it would be, what path it would take, but even without knowing, I gave it to him. His hand tightens around my wrist, keeping it pressed against his heart.
"Feel, just feel," Jonathan whispers in my ear, amidst my hysteria, his voice broken.
He holds me tighter, until my face is pressed against his chest, his chin resting on top of my head. He whispers calming words as if to soothe a wounded child. I don’t want to feel, don’t want to breathe in his scent that ruins me, but I stay, and the fist that was pounding him is now clutching his neck, holding onto him to sustain my fall. The rhythm of his heart is like a rock ballad, the melody of a broken romance, forever imprinting its notes in my mind, pulsing in my ear against his chest. I flatten my fingers as if I could reach through his skin to touch his heart, binding it to me as he had done with mine.
"Feel what you’ve done, Gim. It wasn’t the past, it wasn’t her, nor the game. It’s for you that it beats. Every second is for you." My eyes squeeze shut, letting the sobs tear through my throat like a cold, soulless wretch. "Only for you, my submarine..."
His hand lifts my face, and I die a little more with each caress, feeling so much pain as his lips brush softly against mine, pleading for entry into my mouth. Love isn’t supposed to be like this. I don’t fully understand what love is. For ten years, I had someone who claimed to love me, yet it wasn’t love. What tears at me now for Jonathan is a love so intense, so disproportionate, that it overwhelms me, leaving me at his mercy. A sick, toxic, destructive love. I don’t know if he’s like his mother; I’ve blinded myself, and I can’t let my guard down and trust him, but still, I hold on to Roy, dying a little more with each urgent kiss he presses to my lips. When I don’t return his kiss, he pulls away, his face flushed.
"Gim?" My fingers release him, stepping back as his arms drop to his sides.
"I can’t..." The smile that forms on my face, alongside the tears, shatters, reflecting what little remains of me. "I can’t."
I don’t look back when I open the door, leaving him in the middle of the office. I don’t meet Baby’s tear-filled red eyes as she sits on the hallway floor, facing the door. My fingers rise to cover my ears as I walk away, but I can still hear the agonized roar, hoarse like a wounded tiger, as he destroys his room. I can’t save him. I’m not even sure I can save myself.
I think I fall asleep. My exhausted, contorted body on the uncomfortable couch stirs at the distant sound of my phone ringing incessantly. I pull it from the pocket of my jacket, running my fingers through my hair, stuck to my face, pushing it back with my hood.