Page 33 of Watch Me Burn
“Don’t blame yourself for any of this, Anna. We were both just kids. I’m so sorry. I really am. And I want us to battle this together. I don’t want us to hide things anymore, for us to hold anything back. More than ever, we should be honest with each other—who else can we rely on to fight our way out of this tragedy?”
Anna choked on her tears. How badly did I want to rush to where she was and hug her and whisper to her that everything would be okay. I hated knowing that she was trembling somewhere out there all alone—that we willingly separated when we needed each other most.
“Can you . . . meet me at the condo?” she piped up. “It feels too empty without you, but if you don’t want to, I totally get it.”
A wave of gratitude washed over me. Nowhere felt like home besides being near Anna. “I’ve been finding it hard to get used to my new home here, so I’ll say hell yeah to that offer.” I glanced at the black mold in the corner of my ceiling and tried to tune out the moaning sounds that came from the couch in the living room.
We both giggled lightly, sadness blanketing our amusement.
“I’ll see you soon?” Anna asked.
“Right where I left you,” I responded. Today, I’d nip the weeds of my grudge by the bud—it was time that I rid our relationship of this awful back-and-forth hostility that we’d accustomed ourselves to.
I just wanted to see Anna again. And if going back to her condo would make that happen, I’d be more than happy to oblige.
KNOCK KNOCK.
My knuckles felt heavy against the wooden door as I stared into the peephole of Anna’s unit. As footsteps thudded against the floor, I quickly jerked back and posed myself as if I were patiently waiting.
Anna flung the door open, seemingly just as restless to glimpse my features as I was to touch hers. She’d tied her brown hair in a messy bun, and her blue eyes glimmered under the condo’s lights.
“Come in,” she said softly, gesturing to the depths of her unit. I bobbed my head, silently kicking off my shoes and hoisting my puffer jacket on a hook.
The familiar scent of her condo stirred my senses, and the wall where I had once pulled her close and claimed her remained unchanged. It was like smelling a mother’s recipe or walking down the same halls you used to in your academic youth. I felt nostalgic and rewarded.
Anna skirted past me to the living room, stopping awkwardly by her couch.
“Maybe we should sit down and talk?” I wondered.
“Haha, you’re right,” she quickly agreed. “A phone call doesn’t do a ton of justice.”
We sat quietly next to each other. My eyes glanced at her full lips and wandered to study her movements. She was nervous and jumpy like I’d never seen her before. Even her cheeks were blushing a hot pink.
“ . . . So, where should we start?” I cleared my throat. Gazing reflectively up at the ceiling, I commented, “We should probably skip the whole prison part. I don’t want to burden you.”
Anna leaned in. “Well, if that’s okay, I’d like to know about that—if it isn’t too difficult for you to talk about, of course. It might help to talk about it. Both of us.”
Smirking, I joked, “The soap and the shower is a real thing, not that anybody ever won that fight with me.”
But Anna just looked at me sadly, so after an awkward silence, I began to talk about my life behind bars, how I defended myself, how I learned to deem “safe” acquaintances from the rest and how I was able to avoid getting shanked.
“Those fifteen years were no fucking joke.” I sighed at the end of my story. “But they hardened me into the man I am today, and while I could never say I’d want to endure the same tsunami of crap again, it’s part of my past. Who I am today is a testament to that.”
Anna murmured, “I don’t think that’s true.” Her eyes were fixed on the floor up to that point; slowly, she brought her gaze to mine. “I think you’ve always retained the kind-hearted, positive spirit that I looked up to you for as a child.” She tucked a curl behind her ear. “Mother Teresa is what I used to call you.”
A smile crept onto my lips. “Teresa and Iron Man. We were ambitious little fuckers back then, huh?”
It tingled my skin to know she still saw me in that light. That she believed no matter what circumstances I was thrusted into, I’d keep the same genuine personality she treasured so deeply.
“Can I tell you something, Ethan?” Anna said.
“Sure.”
Her eyes stared into mine intensely.
“I used to think that I only cared so much about this investigation because of the guilt from the past. But I’ve realized . . . it’s more than that. You mean more to me than that.”
I gulped. “What . . . do I mean to you?”
