The moment she stepped through the door, everything seemed to freeze in time and space and just hang there around her from invisible threads. Rochelle could feel Nick, hovering behind her, still holding open the front door. She could hear him breathing in the silent house. She was staring around the room in disbelief that just a few months ago this had been her life. Everything was exactly where it'd been that night, almost. Other than packing, she hadn't been home since he'd died. Everything looked the same as it had been in his eyes last time he'd been here - other than the thin veil of dust that now seemed to coat everything.
Rochelle moved deeper into the house, her hands shaking, and Nick closed the door. She felt like they were invading somehow, like how tomb raiders in the Egyptian Pyramids must feel. The place had an almost sacred essence, and AJ's scent and memory was so thick that it was like he was pressing in against her from every angle, like she was drowning in AJ.
Nick moved silently into the living room and she heard him sit on a chair, but his presence barely mattered anymore. She moved further, stepping from room to room, turning on lights as she went, staring around at what felt like a museum of her past. Like little mind movies, memories slipped in her mind as she looked around, various bits of her time spent with AJ. Her entire life from before felt like it'd been kept sealed in an airtight Ziplock baggie.
By the time she made it back to the living room, Nick was asleep in the chair. She wondered if this was what he did, come here to sleep. She wondered why, what it was about coming here that was soothing for him.
She stood in front of the mantle and looked up at their wedding picture that hung there next to a single dried rose, preserved from her bouqet. She stared at AJ's face in the frame, at the curve of his cheeks which had slowly but surely filled out the longer she'd known him, his dark brown eyes that always held just a tinge of sadness, even when he was his very happiest. She reached out and traced his shape with her finger tip against the glass.
"Oh God," she choked the words out, tears suddenly shaking her body. She backed away from the mantle. She covered her eyes, "Oh shit. I miss him so fucking much," she sobbed into her hands.
The sound of her reaction to the photo must've woken Nick up because the next thing she knew he was there, with his arms wrapped around her, steadying her, pulling her close. Nick had no idea what made him do it. It was like a reflex when she cried out to grab hold of her, to try to comfort her. He realized as she cried, pressing her face against his chest, that he hated the sound of her tears, that he felt like he would gladly slay a thousand dragons to keep this woman from crying a single, precious tear. And despite the conversation on the way here, despite everything Rochelle had to say, he felt guilty.
"It's okay," Nick whispered into her hair as Rochelle trembled against him, "It's okay."
Rochelle's tears soaked his shirt and Nick felt the wet spot they had created against his skin, and his heartbeat rose as Rochelle's hand pressed against his chest. He closed his eyes, a strange, twisting feeling coming over him. Her hand moved and her fingers found the scar, a puckered line that ran across his chest and just barely peeked out from the top of his shirt. Her hand paused, her fingers feeling it slowly, gently.
Rochelle opened her eyes. She stared at the little bit of it that peeked out of the V-neck shirt that he was wearing.
"Can I see it?" she asked.
Nick pulled his shirt off slowly.
The dark strip cut across Nick's chest, like a zipper holding him closed. It was still healing, still a little raw. She stared at it intently. Behind that scar, inside that chest, lay the only living piece of AJ still remaining: his heart, his very essence. The part that loved her.
With a shaking hand, Rochelle reached out and lay her palm against the spot where AJ's heart was. She closed her eyes. "Does that hurt?" she asked in a breath.
"No," Nick whispered thickly.
Rochelle drew her hand away and slowly moved closer, laying her head against his chest, her ear exactly where her hand had just been, her eyes flooding with tears that streamed across her face.
Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
"I miss you," she whispered in response to the heartbeat.
Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
Nick's breathing was slow, barely existent.
Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
It was like the beats were saying her name.
Rochelle. Rochelle. Rochelle.
"Christ, it's like I can hear him," Rochelle whispered and without thinking, she moved her head and pressed her lips against Nick's chest, though in her mind she was kissing AJ.
Her lips were wet and warm and Nick closed his eyes, his hands shaking. A part of him wanted to push her away, to tell her to stop and step back, but this was Rochelle, and she was hurting. If touching his scar and listening to AJ's heart pumping inside him - like he was some kind of crazy human incubator - was what would help her, then he owed it to AJ to let her do it. Didn't he? Maybe nobody else in the entire world would understand this, but nobody else in the entire world had to know.
Rochelle. Rochelle. Rochelle.
She pulled him back to the couch and he let her lay him down and she curled up next to him, her head pressed against his chest, her hand on his scar, listening and feeling in the dark as they lay there.
Eventually, they fell asleep.
Nick woke up with the sun on his face, burning his eyes. He felt his cellphone vibrating against his leg in his pants pocket. He looked at her dark hair spread across his chest and smiled, reaching to push a strand of it behind away from her face so he could see her, thanking God for a woman like this, a woman who he loved, who --
And then he realized what he was thinking and that this was Rochelle.
A horrified feeling smashed into him, and pieces started falling into his mind to complete the image: They weren't at home, they were at AJ's house. Rochelle was sleeping, her face pressed against his bare chest. The cellphone was ringing. It was morning. They hadn't told Lauren where they were going. He hadn't even left a note. He struggled to pull the phone out of his pocket, disturbing Rochelle as he did so, and he wrangled himself out from under her, perching on the arm of the couch.
"Who's calling so early, Monkey?" Rochelle asked as his body disappeared from beneath her. She smiled as she snuggled into the couch cushion.
"Oh Jesus," Nick muttered, seeing Lauren's face on his phone's caller ID.
At the sound of his voice, Rochelle looked up, a shocked expression on her face as her eyes landed on Nick - not AJ. Nick. "Oh fuck." She sat up. Her hands flew to her body to feel for clothing even as she asked, "We didn't ---"
"No," he said. Then, "No." He emphasized the word. "Shut up a second." He clicked answer on his phone. "Hey babe," he said.
"Where the fuck are you?" Lauren's voice came through the line, terrified and rift with panic. It shook. He could tell she was crying, was probably hysterical.
"I'm sorry baby, Ro and I are at her place," he said, "She wanted to see the house."
"In the middle of the night?!" Lauren shrieked.
"Yeah," Nick said. "I was -- I was up and she heard me and she asked me to - to go with her."
"Why isn't there a note?"
"I'm sorry," Nick apologized. He looked at Rochelle's face, which was pale. She looked ready to throw up or something. "We'll... we'll be right home. I'll explain then. Love you." Before she could argue or say a thing more, Nick hung up and turned his phone off. She was gonna kill him. He looked at Rochelle with concern. "Nothing happened," he stressed the words firmly. "Nothing.."
Rochelle grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. She stared up at him, his hair was messy and the scar seemed to glow off his pale chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry. Was she mad?"
"She...will be all right," Nick said slowly. He got up off the couch, bent down and picked his shirt up off the floor and tugged it on over his head. He turned back to Rochelle. "Look, Lauren... she doesn't know I've been coming here. It would creep her out."
"It is a little creepy," Rochelle admitted.
"I know," he said. "But she'd be really weirded out by it, so I'd really appreciate it if we didn't tell her."
They gathered themselves and headed out to the car. Nick held the passenger door open for her and climbed in himself and they drove back to his house in complete silence. He parked in the driveway and stared up at the house, not a single word had passed between them since they'd been in AJ's living room. The front door opened and Lauren stood in the frame of it, staring over at them.
"So um, where'd we land on what we're telling her?" Nick asked quietly.
"It was my idea," Rochelle confirmed.
"Thank you," Nick said.
"On two conditions," Rochelle added.
"Okay," Nick answered.
"Condition one," Rochelle said, "You don't tell her about -- about me touching you and sleeping on you last night."
Nick laughed, "I like my balls attached to my body, no worries about me telling her that."
"And condition two," Rochelle continued, "If you go there again, you will bring me with you."
Nick nodded. "Okay."
"Okay," Rochelle said.
"It's our secret, then," Nick said.
"Yes," Rochelle said.
"Okay then."
They climbed out of the vehicle and started toward the front door. A heavy feeling of companionship fell over Nick as they walked toward the front door. It made Nick think of the Goonies coming up out of the pirate cave, the feeling of comradeship and connection that existed between people only after they'd been through something nobody else in the world would understand.
"I was worried half to death," Lauren cried as they came near.
"At least it wasn't all the way to death," Nick joked, a charming grin flashing across his face.
