I nuzzle against the comforting and firm body next to me, holding me in his arms.
A sudden hitched breath makes me realize that I’m huddled against someone’s chest like a baby koala, andthatsomeoneis none other than Andrew. The strangest thing is the buzzing in my limbs while I cling to him like I’ve never done with anyone before.
I blink away the haze and peer up at him. His fingers stroke my hair gently. As he smiles down at me, I subconsciously mirror his gesture.
I’ve never slept so well in my entire life, and right now, all I want is to stay in his arms forever and let him shield me from the world. It feels like I can abandon everything else when he’s near me because a part of me wholeheartedly believes he would take care of me for the rest of my life.
But no matter how much he is willing to bend for me, I refuse to soften my edge. The sharper I remain, the less likely his softness will breach me.
“Slept well?” he asks as I detach myself from him and face the window.
“Yeah, you?” I pull my bathrobe into place, and get up from the bed, feeling my stomach churn.
“Yeah, I actuallyslept. Haven’t been able to do that in ages. But…are you okay? You can stay in bed longer, you know?”
I can’t. You’re making me feel things I’d rather not know of if I’m not going to be able to hold on to them.
“I’m fine. Glad I could be of help.”
I don’t smile at him nor bother glancing at him as I step toward the bathroom and lock myself inside. My back hits the door’s cold surface and I slump against it, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my bare legs.
Everything was fine yesterday. I felt at ease and hopeful but maybe that’s the issue.
I shouldn’t forget my place.
The scar on my forearm tingles and my eyes dart to the long, vertical, white line that reaches my wrist.
I haven’t cut in years. The wounds would be too obvious and the healing process inconvenient. The girls would notice and so would Jason. Their concern will only burden me and worsen the rotting guilt I feel every time I peek at my reflection.
And yet, right now, all I can think about is dragging a sharp blade over the fine line and watching the blood drip like it did that day.
Stop it. You’re disgusting.
I shake my head and push myself up, catching sight of myreflection in the mirror.
At least I’m still pretty. Especially my eyes—those sapphire eyes.
My mother’s eyes.
Once my beauty has faded, will he leave me for someone prettier? Will he choose someone who doesn’t carry the scent of pain and squandered hope?
I hate thinking this way about the body that has carried me through the best and worst moments of my life. This vessel’s existence may have been a mistake, but it accomplished its mission in more ways than I give it credit for. I should be more grateful for the only thing that never gave up on me and instead reminded me that I was alive.
Walking. Breathing. Laughing. Crying. Existing. Living.
But dead inside.
Pushing the door open, I come face to face with a ridiculous scene and almost burst out laughing. “What on earth are you wearing?” I point at the ‘I heart NYC’ briefs and snort. “Don’t tell me you’ve been wearing those since yesterday.”
“They didn’t have many options in the souvenir shop, you know?” He grins, stepping toward me. “I’ve got another one specially bought for you.”
He hands me to second pair, and I hold them up to get a better view before another round of laughter shakes me. “My God, it’s so ridiculous!”
“You’re so beautiful when you laugh. I can’t get enough of you.” He leans against the wall and smiles at me. “Do you want to tell me what happened earlier?”
“Nothing happened,” I say and fist the briefs.
He frowns, clearly not believing me. “Don’t lie to me. I won’t force you to tell me if you really don’t want to, but don’t insult my intelligence by pretending I misunderstood your behavior. I’m not blind. I can tell something was up when you went to the bathroom all distant and shit.”
