The Good Comes Too Late

He dragged me down. Down, down, down.

I could feel myself sinking deeper and deeper, but I didn’t protest. Not when I ran out of oxygen, not when it started to burn.

Should I have fought back this time? Maybe. But I found that after so much enduring, I couldn’t.

My hands were tied, my feet were tied. Though I could still move them freely, his hold, even though gentle, was lethal.

A gasp for air shot through me when I was abruptly yanked forward, droplets of water falling from my locks.

“Get dressed, baby.” The snarl curled around me like seaweed, dragging me back under. I did as I was told, and he left.

My fingers had trembled as I pulled my coat on, missing several of the holes as they refused to steady. I still needed to get some groceries. I hoped the scarf I wrapped around my neck, tight like a noose, would hide the bruises.

I used to question why I remained his boyfriend after everything he had done. But six years of relationship isn’t easy to give up, not after everything. Not after all the smiles, the kind words, the gentle touches... the love. I wished I had been brave enough to stand up against him, against myself and my fears—maybe then I could have left this facade I called love.

The door handle was cold under my warm palm. I twisted it, my actions hesitant—despite knowing he wasn’t here, I could still feel my body pulling,protesting. But I forced myself to step forward, into the dim concrete stairwell. The immediate cold hit me, yanking a shiver from my spine.

I touched my neck and winced, throat still raw from when he restrained me under.

“Damn.” I rasped, forcing myself toward the stairs. I just needed to focus on getting these groceries. I didn’t want a repeat of last time—the thought made me shiver.

My fingers glided along the rail as I made my descent. A stumble in my step had me three steps down before catching myself, grip tight on the rail.

A shaky breath escaped me as I rubbed my clammy hands on my worn jeans. I shook off the momentary surprise and forced myself down the last two flights of stairs.

My hands, now cold and stiff, pressed against the rough metal of the building door as I pushed it open, letting the cold air hit me right in the face. It dishevelled my hair. But I stepped out, allowing the cold, winter air to nip at my nose.

My steps were unsteady as snow crunched beneath them. The cold bit through my jeans, causing me to hunch further in on myself—we never could afford the new and expensive jeans, just secondhand.

The further I walked, the more I began to think that maybe it was time I left this relationship. Maybe I should work up the courage like my therapist had told me. My eyes, emotionless, slipped to the ground. But it was hard. It was so hard trying to stand up for myself, hard trying to fight someone who was so... so heartless.

My thoughts were abruptly cut off as I hit something hard and fell back on my butt, the melting snow quickly soaking through my thin jeans.

“Are you okay?” The words were soft, warm even. Something I wasn’t used to.

My eyes slowly trailed up the stranger, finding a tan hand outstretched to me. Was this person offering to help me up? Or were they going to hit me?

“I... I’m fine.” I whispered, my eyes finally landing on the stranger’s face. It was a man with gentle eyes and concern creasing his forehead. His eyes met mine and for once, I felt something I wasn’t accustomed to—safety.

My hand had barely stretched out to take his offered one before his hand grasped mine and I was abruptly being hauled up by his much more... enthusiastic approach. I stumbled, knocking into his chest with a small grunt before he was stabilising me.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to cause you to trip.” He said it gently, almost too friendly. He grasped my shoulders to keep me upright, his lips curling into a kind smile. I couldn’t help but stare.

“N-No, it’s... it’s fine.” My words came out all rushed and stuttered, and I quickly shied away—not wanting him to make fun of me for it.

“I’m C-Callum!” The voice chimed, almost excited, as he spoke, a stutter falling from his lips. That surprised me, this man—confident as he was—had stuttered, just as I had done. And yes, it did make me stare. The people around me never acted like this and they definitely didn’t stutter—it showed too much vulnerability, as they said.

“Quinn...” I murmured, still staring at him with those wide, curious eyes. It was clear I was reacting to his stutter, I wasn’t hiding it very well and he quickly noticed.

“The stutter, right?” Callum chuckled as he looked at me sweetly and tilted his head, “I was born with it, though it doesn’t always c-come out.”

“I had a, um, stutter too, but it went away.” I mumbled, something pulling me to open up about myself to this complete stranger. Maybe it was the friendly demeanour or the sweet smile, but it made me feel comfortable. Safe.

“Oh, lucky. I’ve h-had mine forever and a half.” His tone was whiny, like that of a child. I thought it was cute. I could tell this guy was in his early 20s by the way he acted—reminded me of myself at that age.

“Cute.” The word slipped before I could quell it—something I never let myself do.

“Cute?” Callum questioned, amusement lacing his tone as he looked down at me before his large hand ruffled my hair, like I was the younger one.

“I–” My words never made it out of my mouth as someone’s shoulder bumped mine and I, once again, was stumbling forward, knocking into Callum. I spun around, wanting to apologise—even though I had done nothing wrong—but then the person’s face registered and my eyes grew wide.

“J-Joseph?” I flinched back as the name left my lips, afraid he’d hit me just for saying his name. My heart raced, feeling like it might just leap from my chest.

“Pardon?” The man said, looking at me weirdly before continuing on his way. That’s when it registered in my head that this was, in fact, not Joseph. Their eyes were nothing alike, nor was their body, but they certainly looked similar.

“The groceries!” I blurted, finally remembering why I had come out in the first place. I had taken too long already, I needed to go.

“I-I’m sorry, I need to go!” The words tumbled out as I darted forward onto the road, glancing back when I heard Callum call after me.

“Wait! Can I have your–Watch out!” I didn’t have time to process his words before I felt something heavy slam against my body, sending me hurtling through the air. I crashed on the asphalt, skidding across it with a dizzying amount of force.

The pavement felt cold under my broken body, my thin layer of clothes doing nothing to thwart the freezing temperatures of winter.

I didn’t try to fight against the impending darkness. Death was coming, there was no point denying or struggling against it. It was coming whether I was prepared for it or not and maybe... maybe I was ready.

My body, bleeding and bruised, was now broken... though it had been broken long ago. Years spent with Joseph, tearing myself apart and sticking the pieces back together with tape had taken its toll.

I suppose this was how my story ended. Dying alone—I’d expected as much. Then I heard his voice, fading into the background as my consciousness slipped away. I suppose I wasn’t completely alone... even if it was a stranger.

At least this man had offered me some comfort. A sweet smile, genuine care, and soft touches.

A small smile slid across my lips as my eyes finally shut, the peace and quiet I craved finally reaching me.

Sometimes the good comes too late.