EVE
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 1 Peter 5:8
I couldn’t help my tears, couldn’t help but feel his rejection roll through me like a violent storm. My skin prickled when he denied me, the loss of absolution setting every nerve on fire. It was the type of pain that creeps through you, catching you off guard and striking so deep that your breath is knocked from your lungs.
I refused to scream, and I didn’t fall to my knees begging. He hadn’t shunned me. Not yet.
There was still a roof over my head.
I hadn’t been cast out into the night that would consume me.
Rounding a corner, we came to a doorway. Unlocking it, Elijah moved through, leading me into a dark room.
The click of a switch and the room lit up, the light diffused and softened by the shades of the bedside lamps. This room, like the other, was utilitarian in its lack of decoration. All it contained was a simple bed, two bedside tables and a desk set off to the other side. The walls were bare except for a single crucifix hanging alone.
Elijah continued walking until we were both inside a small bathroom, also bare except for the standard features: sink, toilet and tub. Nothing else.
I watched him kneel down by the tub to start the water, but I felt faint once steam rolled off the surface.
My vision tunneled, my knees weakened and the next thing I knew I was lying on the cold, stone tile floor with Elijah hovering above me.
“Eve, are you okay?”
The back of my head throbbed, the skin burning. Blinking open my eyes, I looked at him in confusion. “What happened?”
“You fell. Are you okay? Does your head hurt?”
Pushing myself up, my hip brushed his hand.
He placed distance between us and looked away. “Will you be able to bathe yourself?”
Still lightheaded from whatever spell had hit me, I sat on the floor, barely able to hold up my weight. “I’m not sure. I’m so dizzy. The heat in the room is only making it worse.”
I hated that he refused to look at me.
“It’s probably your blood sugar. When did you last eat?”
“I’m not sure.”
I wasn’t sure of anything at that moment. All I knew was that I was in a strange place with Elijah. It was all so confusing, so frustrating that I wanted to scream. Was I being tested? Had I been forgiven?
He bit out a word under his breath. I didn’t recognize it.
Voice pained, he said, “Get in the water, Eve. I’ll help you.”
Standing from the ground, I almost fell again. My legs were weak and my abdomen felt like it couldn’t possibly hold the weight of my upper body. Elijah’s hands gripped over my right arm and left hip. He was walking closely behind me, his body brushing against mine.
I shuddered when the soft linen of his shirt touched my back, when the stiff cotton of his pants grazed my bottom. His nearness was a tease, and I was desperate to push back against him.
Controlling my actions, I remembered he was the only person who could lead.
We reached the bath, his hand releasing my hip to allow me to step in. My breath hissed over my lips at the heat of the water, my muscles relaxing as I sank beneath the surface. Once lowered completely, I looked up and saw that Elijah still refused to fully glance in my direction.
Reaching for a sponge and soap, his arms moved over me, his chest appearing rock solid beneath the crisp black of his shirt. He handed me the items and asked, “Are you strong enough to wash yourself?”
Nodding, I spoke shyly. “I think so. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”
With the soap in one hand and the sponge in the other, I leaned as far forward as I could, dragging the soap along my leg with only the sound of moving water echoing through the room. Elijah knelt on the ground beside me, supporting my back.
His fingers against my skin were sweet poison, his breath a whisper of sound over parted lips.
Is it pain you seek tonight, sweet child? Is it pain that will cleanse you of your sins?
The memories of our nights together tormented me still.
I wanted to be clean for him. I was desperate to be pure. Our union was made in the eyes of God, our passion forged in fire.
The soap slipped from my hands, splashing down to the bottom of the tub. There was no reason for my weakness, but even a bar of soap was too heavy for my trembling fingers to firmly grasp.
Elijah pulled his hand from my back, still averting his eyes as he unbuttoned the cuff of each sleeve. Rolling them up, he revealed the taut and toned muscles of his forearm.
I watched in absolute wonder.
My breath came harder, memories seeping in of the week we’d shared while preparing for our wedding ceremony. The heat of his breath on my skin, the strength of his hands brushing across my body - the sting of pain that always accompanied everything he did.
As tears threatened my eyes, Elijah’s hand disappeared beneath the water in search of the soap. My head fell back against the tub. His arm slid over my inner thigh.
Slippery and wet, his skin was temptation against mine, hotter than the water that billowed with steam.
My breath rushed from my lungs.
Opening my eyes, I was met with the molten heat of his stare.
“Can you sit forward?” he asked, a whisper of sound in the silence of the room.
Nodding, I couldn’t speak around the lump in my throat.
“I’ll wash the dirt off your back.”
Time slowed while I savored the feel of his touch.
I breathed in.
He breathed out.
Water splashed in the tub.
Every small sound echoed through the room.
His fingertips brushed against the side my breast as he brought the soap down along my arms. A tremulous breath rattled out of me, the sound so loud that his eyes locked to mine, heat stirring beneath the hypnotic blue.
The single light bulb that illuminated the room flickered softly, light playing off the water in strobes. When his hand swept down just above my bottom, my back stiffened, my breasts tightening in desperation for his touch. His hand shook as he brought the soap down lower and when he brushed over the cheeks, I couldn’t contain my soft moan.
I was lost in that moment; lost to a man that cared for me despite my having run from him only hours before.
Was this what forgiveness felt like?
My head was dizzy, my eyes blinking slowly. I sat in absolute adoration. I was swimming in the torment of his soft touch, unable to stop the trembling of my body within the gossamer curtain of steam that enshrouded us.
Moving so that he could cleanse my legs, the tip of his tongue moved over the fullness of his bottom lip. Soft, yet strong, his movements revealed the tension in his body, the restraint he used to keep from touching me in ways he’d allowed while we lived at the compound. I couldn’t help my need, the desire filling me to a point of agony.
“Please…”
The word escaped on a whisper.
Glancing up from beneath the fan of my lashes, I saw his eyes flash with something I couldn’t recognize. Need, desire, thirst…or anger; every emotion I was desperate to see inside him, there one minute and gone the next.
Dropping the soap back into the water, his hand gripped my ankle, pulling my leg to the side and spreading me open before him. His body shook again, his eyes trailing across me, heating as he looked over my breasts. As fast as he’d grabbed me, he let go and jumped away from the tub.
I wasn’t a viper waiting to strike him, but he moved as if I were.
His eyes closed and I watched him gain control over something I couldn’t understand. Why did he refuse me when only days ago he’d granted me pure freedom?
“You’re done. I’ll go get you something to wear.” Rough with tension, his words came out on a pained whisper.
Pushing himself off the floor, he moved fluidly from the room, his steps heavy as he left. I listened as they grew silent, minutes passing before I could hear them approaching again.
Entering the room, he held a white robe. The material slipped from his hand to the counter where he placed it. Once again, he kept his eyes directed anywhere but towards me. “Are you feeling well enough to get out of the bath by yourself?”
I wanted to cry, but nodded my head in response despite the fact that he couldn’t see it. Finally forcing the painful words from my lungs, I answered, “Yes. I think I can manage.”
“Good.” He nodded before walking from the room, leaving the door cracked open when he faded into the soft light of the bedroom.
With the lack of emotion in that one simple word, he left me broken. I wanted to slip beneath the water, let air escape from my lungs in bubbles above me as liquid death flowed in to replace it.
But what good would that do? Even death couldn’t save me from the emptiness I felt inside at his newfound rejection.
Climbing out of the water, my skin tightened to meet the rush of cold air. Goosebumps erupted over my arms and I shivered as I stepped out of the tub.
My breasts were firm, the nipples beading as I walked to the counter. My hands were on the robe when I turned my head in response to a noise.
We locked stares for only a split second before Elijah was gone again.