Shadows in the Rain

The rain pattered against the ground and the trees swayed, crashing into each other wildly.

The clouds darkened in a warning that a storm was brewing.

I stared at the hooded figure, who stood in the doorway, red eyes glaring at me.

My breath hitched as I recognized them. I never thought that I’d ever see them again.

Ones that I’ve known since I was young. Ones that I knew the curve of the eyelid and the flutter of the lashes.

Ones that looked at me once with love.

Now, they look at me filled with hatred, but most of all. Hurt.

“F-Fin. . .?” I barely whisper, staring at him, paralyzed in fear. The blood draining from my face.

I feel the tears start to form in my eyes as I try to blink them away. Trying to get a hold of myself.

I haven’t seen him in . . . years.

Ten to be exact.

The last time I’d seen him was a stormy night like this, when we had snuck out. Something I’ll never do again.

I swallow a lump in my throat as vivid images of water, screams, and thunder coarse through my mind.

Haunting me.

No. Stop. Please. Don’t do this to yourself. It’s not real.

He doesn’t even acknowledge me. It’s very real. Goosebumps prickle my arms crawling to my face.

I feel warmth behind my back and a hand runs around my hips before resting on my stomach, underneath my bump, stroking gently.

Where that frail baby sleeps.

I can barely breathe now. My chest tightening as I feel the air around us disappear—suffocating me.

“Deep breaths.” Cal murmurs in my ear, rubbing my stomach gently. I nod slowly.

My eyes flutter close.

One breath. Two. Three.

I open my eyes and he’s still standing there. Glaring at me.

I feel a small kick in my stomach and a soft gasp escapes my lips.

I try to shake my head, not looking at him, knowing that this isn’t really real.

“Oh Fin.” I barely choke out as my mind tells me otherwise.

His thick black hair—black as a crows—had always glistened in the moonlight. I loved when I could run my hand through the tangles. It always smelt of cedar and there were always little leaves stuck in between.

Now, his hair was damp. Soaked with rain. Not having a hand run through in years yet slightly ruffled, looking like its waiting,patiently.

He didn’t look like the boy I knew. Or the boy I had loved. My hero. My best friend.

I see the smallest movement that catches my eye.

He clenches his jaw still staring at me. Then behind me. At the only real person in the room.

My breathing quickens and I close my eyes tightly, not knowing what was going to happen.

“Deep breaths.” I hear Cal murmuring again, a warmth against my ear.

“I thought you’d be here.” Fin’s voice startles me, so deep and terrifying, causing me to look at him.

“W-what?” I barely whisper.

“I knew you’d be here. You never truly loved me.” his words are daggers to my heart and I take a step back feeling Cal’s body against mine.

“No. . . you’re wrong.” something slides down my face and I wipe it away quickly. Sweat.

He rolls his shoulders like he’s getting ready to pounce.

“Am I?” his question jerks me back.

He’s wrong. He’s wrong. He’s wrong.

I loved him. I still do. Just not the same way I used to. He’ll always be the boy who truly cared for me.

“I changed, Fin.” I whisper, ashamed of myself for saying the words that I never dared to say before.

“I can tell.” he mutters, taking a step closer.

I realize that I’m holding my breath in as Cal draws me back.

“Honey. Love. Breathe. For the baby.” he kisses my cheek gently.

I nod, clutching his arm that’s still holding my stomach.

Deep breaths.

Fin steals my attention as he scoffs.

“I thought you were better than that. Marrying the fool who couldn’t even save you from the fall.”

“That was years ago.” I say helplessly needing to feel Cal’s protective grasp around me.

But I can’t help think back to when I was on the cliff. Cal wasn’t there for me then. But Fin always was. I remember climbing onto the back as he safely climbed down. Holding my face in his hands checking for any scratches. It took an hour till I had gotten him calmed down. But even then he wouldn’t let go of me. I had felt to safe before.

Unlike now.

“It doesn’t matter.” his voice draws me back, thick with emotion.

I stare at the floor not being able to speak. Shivers run down my spine as I feel the air shift between us.

Cal probably hates me for not speaking up for him. My baby probably hates me for not defending what I love. Who I love.

“Who did this to you?” I barely whisper letting the tears stream down my face.

He’s silent and I fear that he’s gone. Leaving me all over again.

Leave Rinna! Go! his yelling, echoes in my ears. A pain that I will never forget.

I wish I never left. I wish I stayed by his side. Then we both wouldn’t be here.

“You did.” he says at last, something I didn’t expect. Something that shot through me, breaking my heart all over again.

I stumble back and feel Cal’s arms wrap around me protectively. I sob into his chest shaking my head constantly.

“I didn’t. I promise. I still love you.” I sob barely able to say the words.

He doesn’t answer and I’m shaking. My heart stopping as I try to take shaky breaths.

“Shh…it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m here.” Cal says in my neck, “It’s not real. None of it’s real”

But it feels so very much real.

I continue to sob as I feel a soft kick that has my chest lossening.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I keep repeating, “I did it again. I’ll never get over it.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. We’ll get through this.” he tilts my head to look at him, “We always have.”

Wiping my face I can see a sad smile on his lips and he looks at me worriedly.

“We’ll get through this dear. You need to stay strong. For both the baby and I.”

He kisses my forehead and pulls me close. “I love you. I always will.” he murmurs against my head.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I tell my baby. I need her to understand.

I can’t help but think of that helpless boy screaming for me to go. To save myself while letting himself fade as the river drifted him away, taking the previous memories away with him.

I’ll never be Abel to forgive myself. I’ll never be able to forget.

He’ll always come back. And I don’t know how I’ll handle it.