"I'm not hungry."

Aiden has brought one of the chairs from the kitchen table and two bowls of soup. He holds out a spoon and bowl out to me, he doesn't say a word. He just stares at me and holds it out.

"I just want to sleep," I inform him.

He doesn't move so I sigh with frustration and take the bowl with my good hand. I place it into my lap and then snatch the spoon from him. We both stare at the bowl and spoon in my lap for twenty seconds before we realize that I can't feed myself. Aiden puts his own bowl down and takes mine from my lap. Carefully he dips the spoon into the soup and offers it to me after he blows on it gently to cool. My cheeks heat with embarrassment but I eat the soup anyway. It's hot, but not hot enough to burn my mouth. I swallow and he dips the spoon into the soup again and blows on it.

Like a small child Aiden patiently feeds me, spoonful by spoonful. He doesn't say a word, so I don't either. I want to apologize again, but I don't because he told me not to. Instead I show him I'm sorry by eating the soup despite my sour stomach and I don't complain. He doesn't look at me. He stares at the soup, the spoon, and my lips, but he doesn't look at me.

When the soup runs out he takes my empty bowl back to the kitchen then he comes back for his own bowl. "Go to sleep," he says and blows out the candles. He takes one of the pillows out from behind me and helps me get situated then walks away with his food.

"Aiden wait." His silhouette fills the doorway.

I'm sorry. "Will you stay with me?"

He turns slightly; his profile is just a shadow, all angles and no details.

"Please?" I add.

"Alright," he disappears again. I watch as he goes to the couch and sits down in front of the fire. He eats slowly and tends to the fire. My eyes drop and I take a deep breath and sink into the pillow.

I wake sometime later. The cabin is warm but dark. The fire has died down, which means Aiden must be sleeping. I reach out with my good hand, feeling along the mattress, but the bed is empty. Aiden didn't come. I let out a quiet sigh and pull my covers aside.

"Adie?" I jerk back, surprised.

"Yeah?" I reply. He's in the chair by the bed. He came, but he kept his distance. A part of me is angry and insulted the other part wishes he would just yell at me and get it over with. Strange how one mistake can cause a crack in the atmosphere and change everything. "I have to use the bathroom," I tell him, because I'm not sure what else I can say. I'm not sure what I should say.

I'm sorry.

"Do you need help?" he asks. Even his voice sounds tired.

"No I can manage." I'm sorry.

It takes me twice as long to use the bathroom but when I reemerge Aiden has stoked the fire to life and a dim light slowly creeps into the corners of the cabin. Aiden stares at the growing flames, his eyes are unfocused and he sways on his toes as he crouches. I'm worried he's about to pass out and fall face first into the fire.

"Aiden?" I ask.

He looks up at me for the first time in what feels like forever. "I'll be just a second."

I'm sorry. "Ok," I say.

I slip back into the bed and lay my head onto the pillow. But this time I'm determined not to fall asleep before Aiden returns. Instead I focus on the throbbing pain in my right arm. It helps me keep my eyes open. A few minutes later Aiden finally comes into the room. I can see it in the way he walks to the chair that he assumes I'm already asleep. His silhouette is quiet and careful where it steps. He doesn't want to wake me. I have a feeling that it isn't just because I need my rest either.

"Aiden," I whisper. He stops just as he's about to sit. I reach out with my good hand and catch the end of his sleeve. My fingers brush the back of his thumb and wrist. "I want you lay down." I gently tug him toward the bed. He doesn't move but he doesn't entirely resist either.

After a few seconds he gives in. He moves around to the other side of the bed. I push a pillow towards him as he climbs in. Every movement is careful and deliberate. Like he's worried I'm going to snap and change my mind or uncoil and bite him. Eventually he settles down with his hands entwined on his chest.. He's lying on the very edge of the mattress. He feels further away than ever.

I sigh. "Aiden."

"Hmm?"

"I'm not going to break if you touch me," I tell him. For added measure I poke his leg with my good foot. He still doesn't move.

"I know," he says.

"Aiden, tell me what's wrong. Please?" I know what's wrong, but I need to hear him say it. I want him to tell me that he's upset with me. I want to apologize, but I can't so I'm doing the only other thing I can think of.

"Nothing is wrong. Just go to sleep." I can't tell if he's annoyed, irritated, or just tired.

"Aiden."

He sighs this time. "Yes?"

"Tell me you're mad at me." My heart jumps at my own words.

Silence. The fire pops in the other room. My heart pounds and Aiden breathes.

"Adie I'm not-"

"-don't you dare say you aren't mad at me," I say frustrated. I'm staring at his dark form. I can't see his face or his reaction but it doesn't matter. I won't be able to rest until we've settled this. "Because I did something wrong and it's OK if you're mad. I understand. Just please don't pretend like nothing is the matter. I don't want to hurt you, so when I do I don't want you to pretend like it's all fine. I want to feel bad, I want to apologize. Let me apologize."

More silence.

"I'm mad," he says. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, accepting what he's going to say. I asked for it. "I'm mad, but not because you stumbled upon old memories, Adie." I open my eyes even though I still can't see his face.

"Then why?" I ask.

"Because of how you're treating me," he rolls over to face the ceiling. The profile of his face is just barely visible.

"I don't-"

"-you're acting this way out of pity, Adie." He reaches up to touch his face and I hear him take a shaky breath. "I don't want you to feel guilty. I don't want you to pity me. I don't want special treatment or any of that. I just want you to accept me as the person I am right now." He rolls over to face me. "I didn't want you to see my memories because I wanted you to come to like me just as I am. Not for what I've been through. Tell me honestly, why did you invite me to sleep here?"

"To show you that I'm sorry," I say honestly.

He sighs and stands up from the bed. He faces me; half is face glows in the dim light. "Adie, you didn't do anything wrong. There is nothing to forgive you for. You said you trusted me and that means the door must swing both ways. You can dig through my head, strip me down and leave me bare and I would never judge you or resent you for it. But don't ever pretend or treat me this way out of pity or guilt or regret or any of that. Next time...next time invite me for the sole reason that you want me here."

I've forgotten how to breathe. I've forgotten everything. I'm losing my grip.

Truths. I have to remember the simple truths.

I like his scent. I trust him. When all else fails I must remember that those don't change. Those are stone under my feet.

"Good night Adie," he says like ice.

He leaves me and don't say a word to stop him. Two truths aren't enough. I need more. Two truths are only two footholds. I want enough stone to build a house upon. I want enough truths to build a world. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to sob. The memory of the puzzle threatens to spill.

I want something beside myself that I know to be true. I want something outside of my own consciousness that I know won't fail me or leave me. I have Aiden but I fear that he might not be enough. He's given me two footholds, but how much more can he offer? I have safe haven but how long will it last?

I don't sleep well. My brain swirls with thoughts of Aiden and my wrist throbs and aches. I toss and turn and bite back the groan that wishes to escape my lips every time I jostle my arm. I watch the light slowly battle the shadows as the sun rises. Sometime later Aiden wakes up and tosses more logs onto the fire. When he comes to check on me I pretend I'm asleep. I'm not sure why, but it don't want to see his face. Somehow I'm afraid that after last night it will look different.

The floor creeks lightly under his weight and he comes to the side of the bed. "I know you're awake," he says to me.

I open my eyes.

"You haven't slept all night have you?" he asks.

"I'm quite well rested, thank you very much."

"Liar. People go to the hospital for broken arms and take pain killers. You have me and a wooden splint. Tell me the truth, how much pain are you in?"

I sniff and don't look at him.

"Adie."

I don't reply.

"Adie," he leans down and pokes my arm. I slap him as hard as I can with my left. It makes a satisfying THWAP when it connects. He looks stunned then stands straight. "The next time you do that I won't be so nice, now back off. I said I was fine."

He rubs his cheek and steps back. It's what he deserves but my heart wasn't really in it. It was more of a knee jerk reaction and now as I watch the red patch spread across his cheek I regret it.

God help me, I'm actually turning soft.

"At least let me check your ankle," he says. I nod my consent and he pulls back the covers. The bed is wet by my feet and the towel that held the snow somehow ended up on the floor. Aiden works on pulling all the water from the mattress and then examines my ankle. It's still swollen, but compared to my wrist I hardly notice the pain. "I'm going to get some more snow for the swelling."

I nod again and he disappears with the towel. I can't stand this. I feel as though Aiden has suddenly become a stranger again, like when we first started traveling together. Only now I'm the soft one and he's the cold one. I feel like a stranger in my own body. Everything has changed. Everything keeps changing. I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands and curse. It doesn't make me feel any better. There isn't much Aiden can do to heal a sprained ankle so he keeps snow on it and props a pillow under my foot to help relieve the pain. "You're paler than a corpse," he says once my foot is situated.

"Thanks."

"You smell too," he states.

"Wow, you really know how to put on the charm. You smell like a man and let me tell you, it's not a nice smell either." I'm lying. I'm sure he smells of sweat but right now I honestly can't smell anything but the wood smoke and pine. "Help me to the bathroom and I'll clean up."

"I wasn't trying to say you should-"

I wave my hand to cut him off. "Save it. I could use a bath and we both know it."

He helps me to the bathroom. I sit on the edge of the tub and undress. I can just see my head in the small mirror hanging on the wall. I don't look at it. I'm sure Aiden was being nice when he called me a corpse. I probably look like I've been decaying for at least a few days.

I take a deep breath once I'm undressed. My vision flips and I close my eyes, calling the spring water from deep below the cabin. When I open my eyes the water pours out of the faucet and splashes the sides of the tub and quickly fills. I stick my good hand underneath and jerk back with a hiss. It's ice cold.

I shake my head and cut off the flow of water with a simple thought. The water sloshes in the tub then settles. My body starts to cool and I shiver. I do smell and I feel gross. I drop my face into my hands and let out a frustrated sigh. Now that I have it in my mind there is nothing more I want then a hot bath to sooth my aches and grime away. The hot shower I took back at the motel feels like a lifetime ago.

I stand up and look at the mirror. I tilt my head and tug on the mirror. It opens with a soft click. It's not just a mirror, it's a medicine cabinet. How did we miss this before? How did we not think to look in the bathroom? There are rows of bottles and right in front there is a bottle of Tylenol and a bottle of Ibuprofen. I take the Ibuprofen and swallow it dry. I almost call out to Aiden when I spot the razors on the bottom shelf. I pick one up and pull of the little plastic guard. The blade is still shiny and it looks sharp.

It's black and plain, a man's razor, probably my father's razor. I look at the pink one that was next to it, my mother's razor. I close the cabinet but I can't see myself in the mirror because it's fogged over with steam. I turn around.

The bathwater is steaming and when I put my fingers in they turn hot.

My eyebrows come together. "How?" I ask out loud.

Then I remember. All I wanted was a hot bath.