Page 33 of The Oath We Give

Tears sting my eyes, sliding down my cheeks and tickling underneath my chin. That’s the way his hair looked on the nights he’d stay with me.

The two of us on that thin yellowing mattress shoved into the corner of the basement. My skin felt every steady breath from his warm mouth as he rested his head on my chest. The palms of my hands remember the softness of his hair, gaps between my fingers longing for the silky strands.

For hours, we’d lie there, staring at my charcoal drawings he’d let me tape to the wall, talking about his day until he’d finally fall asleep. In those solitary moments where no words were spoken, everything felt okay.

There was no pain or sadness. Only us.

I was his. And he was mine.

“Coraline—”

My body moves, almost out of instinct. Jerking from the hands holding me, I stumble forward with the force. My frail legs wobble beneath me, struggling to hold my weight as I move. I’m uncoordinated, sluggish as I jog across the grass, finding my footing quicker than expected until I make it to a steady sprint.

The blades of grass brush the soles of my feet. My matted hair catches the wind, and I feel it swaying against my lower back.

“Stephen!” I shout. The force of my scream shreds my already tender throat, but I can’t bring myself to care about the pain.

My voice grabs his attention, his head swirling in my direction, eyebrows furrowed together as he searches for me. I catch a glimpse of his blue eyes from this distance, stark and all-seeing. The force of the wind blows my stained white shirt off my shoulder, exposing the old bandage there.

His stern gaze instantly softens when it finds me, face relaxing and eyes turning down. My stomach drops, and my next movements catch the officers next to him off guard enough to allow it.

I throw myself at him.

Looping my arms around his neck, I bury my face in his chest. The sound of his back slamming the car door behind us is an echoing thud. The smell of wood and spice surrounds me.

My body clings to him as much as my soul does. He is my gravity. My earth, sun, and moon. There has not been another voice in my ears for who knows how long. I have not felt another touch or inhaled air he did not provide.

I barely remember my life without him. My own name is a foreign word.

Stephen Sinclair is my home. My wrists ache for his chains that keep me safe. His hands are the ones that fed me, his kiss the one that both broke and healed me. No one else has ever been able to love me.

It’s only him.

“Don’t leave me,” I cry into his shirt, digging my hands into his body, pulling him closer. “Please, you promised. You promised you’d never leave me. I’ve been so good.”

The breath of his sigh brushes my cheek. The feeling of his lips pressing to the side of my head makes me push into the gentle touch more. His voice is a hum in my ear, soothing to my fear.

“Circe, my sweet girl,” he murmurs. “We can only go back if you tell them the truth. You tell them I didn’t keep you down there. You wanted to stay with me. Tell them, and I’ll never leave you.”

Circe.

Only Circe.

The police, who were frozen in shock from my outburst, have now regained movement. Snapping to action, their hands are quick to grab at me, ripping us apart with vigor, but I refuse to let go.

“I’m—” A sob steals my words, the shake unbearable for my brittle bones. “I’m scared, Stephen. Where are they taking me? You can’t leave, please!”

The removal of his body is jarring, warmth immediately replaced by the bitter cold of abandonment. I’m wrapped up and dragged backward, but I continue fighting. Hands clawing and scratching, I scream for him.

We can’t be apart. I can’t let him leave me.

Don’t they understand? Can’t they see?

He loves me. I love him.

I cry, I cry, I cry.

I sob until there is no more water for me to shed, until all I can do is dry heave and shake. Tears drown me until my eyes shut, and all I can hear are his parting words as they pulled me away.