What?
“No need, Bruno. I can bathe myself.”
“I know you can. I'm not questioning your abilities, I just want to do it myself.” He crosses his arms over his chest, ending the argument.
The massive tub is now filled with hot water, I dive in, and he follows. I sit down and the water level is just above my breasts, perfect.
Bruno grabs a nearby basket containing body and hair goodies. He chooses a lavender soap and gently starts scrubbing my back. The warmth of the water mixed with the scents coming from the soap are refreshing. I can feel my body calming little by little until my back meets his hard chest.
I'm with Bruno.
I arrived.
Even though I barely survived and always tried to do the right thing, the guilt hits me.
The Frenchman’s body is probably still cold on that dirty floor while I am here, taking a warm bath surrounded by golden fixtures.
“Can I ask you something?” I say softly, in a way that shows how relaxed I am.
“Anything,” he says.
“What were you doing in that place? I know Rage sent you, but what was your purpose?” Bruno remains silent for a few moments as he trails a sponge slowly down my arm.
“Yesterday, I got a call from Rage, I didn't quite understand why he was calling me at the time. Now I know why. I needed a woman, but not in the way you are probably thinking,” he says close to my left ear. “I needed a woman I could trust, to crash Razzar's party.”
I turn to look at him. Water splashes all around us, but he doesn't look me back. His gaze is fixed on my ink.
“You know that woman is going to be me, don't you?”
But he shakes his head.
“No, you won't be. It's not up for discussion.” He’s still looking away from me.
My bad temper gets the better of me, and I put some distance between us.
“I came to help, even if it comes to being your slave. Don't tell me I'm not going to do this, Bruno. You don't know half the shit I had to do to get here.” I am mad, but it doesn’t stop me. “Look at me.”
He finally raises his eyes, but they look uneasy.
“I’m not the same person I was when you left. I can do anything I want.”
Somehow, it seems I have his attention now. He’s listening every word I say.
“Bruno, you need to let me in.”
“I have. No one has been this close to me, ever.”
“I know that, but I mean it in a different way. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. We can do this together. When you left, I decided I was not going to live my life in terror. So, please, let me do this, and you will see how strong I am.”
“I don't doubt you’re strong, Sarah, I never have. I remember telling you once, you were the strongest person I know.”
“And yet you still treat me like I’m a fragile little woman. Let me show you how much stronger I became over the past few years.”
Bruno sighs, frustrated. “Sarah, this is a slave auction we are talking about. You don't know the atrocious things that are happening in there. Men, women and children are humiliated day in and day out, treated like dogs or worse. I am not even sure I'll be strong enough to play my part, and honestly I think it’s going to be too much to bear for you. There are way too many situations that can trigger you and force you to make a mistake, and I can’t have that happening over there.”
He thinks this will bring up memories. God, Bruno, if you only knew that I only remember you like the love of my life.
“So, is that it? Do you think playing the role of a slave is going to remind me of something we lived through? You think I’m still weak?” And there it is, the guilt, so characteristic of him.
