All the Time in the World

"It's all over now," Henry breathed.

What? Abby's thoughts were skipping like a broken cassette. What? What was over? Her life? Her efforts to keep breathing? Her friendship with Henry?

She readied herself for death. She could feel the ice-cold blade before it ever touched her and it never did. Henry's arm snapped out and pushed her down to the ground, and her eyes were not quick enough to see Henry's knife work its way into John Wakefield's heart.

John Wakefield, the man who had murdered her parents and destroyed her past, fell to his knees before her with look of devastation. John Wakefield, the man whom Abby had wished nothing less than death upon, sat dying in front of her. So why did she feel disgusted?

She stood, prepared to run, but instantly, she was back on the ground. Henry's impact had knocked her out cold. He looked down at her with a sad pain in his eyes that she would never know of. His heavy heart sunk with him as he bent down to pick her up and to carry her. Had he hurt her? Would she hate him? Possibilities flew through his mind as he held her in his arms, where she rightfully belonged. He would explain to her. He would tell her everything.

He made his way home. Abby's home, and now his home as well. It wasn't far away anymore, because they had all the time in the world. Once inside, up the stairs and behind her bedroom door, he laid her down. Her face was peaceful. When her eyes were closed, she didn't have to see death. She didn't have to be reminded of her haunted past or present, and she could rest. Henry smiled slightly as he ran his hand down her cheek. He stopped momentarily and glanced at the rest of her body.

Wet clothing; she would catch cold. Working hands followed a sigh as he gently removed her blouse and placed it aside. Working hands moved their way down to her jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, and soon, those were removed too. Again, he looked down at her. Her skin was perfect—inviting. He wondered how many times it had been broken, and how many people had bruised it.

She was enticing. Everything from the shape of her legs, the slight roundness of her stomach and then that peaceful tired smile of hers that he hadn't seen in such a long time. He found himself holding her at the waist, simply to feel her beauty burn into his skin. Another sigh, and he covered her with the blankets. He turned away from her, letting his heart calm down slightly and walked to her dresser to retrieve some dry clothes for her to wear when she awoke from her fall.

He walked up to her bedside once more, kissed the tips of his index and middle fingers and placed them gently on her lips, before leaving the room.

I chose you, Abby. I did this all for you. I can wait for you to wake up forever, because we have all the time in the world.