What I haven’t seen is terror.
Pure. Unmitigated. Terror.
She gulps in air and half swallows a scream. When I place my hands on her shoulders, she flings them off, turning again.
“Breathe,” I order her, clutching her by the hips and forcing them back against the wall.
“Can you stop touching me?”
I back away a step, raising my arms in surrender, watching as she buries her face in her hands. “Is there something more I can do?”
“This was such a bad idea. I want to stop.”
“Why? You were fine with everything a few hours ago.”
She shakes her head as though it’s that easy to rewrite history. “It was a mistake.”
Isabelle’s shoulders are hunched, hands still covering her face. Compared to me, she’s already tiny. With these gestures, she shrinks further until it’s hard to believe there’s only five years between us. She looks younger than the videos I was just watching.
“Is it the skating? I was trying to cheer up Sophia, but we can get rid of them if that’s what you want.”
“Cheer her up?”
She finally lowers her hands, revealing features swollen from tears and worn smooth with fear. I want to bundle her into my arms and never let her go. Instead, I stand opposite, arms dangling uselessly by my sides.
“She thought you looked like a princess.”
A smile tries to form then her lips twitch, and it dissolves before it gets going. “A bargain basement one. I used to bulk buy sequins and sew them on individually because we couldn’t afford the proper fabric.”
“I don’t think Sophia’s sophisticated enough to tell the difference.”
This time, she lands the smile, hugging herself and ducking her head when another sob wracks through her. “Sorry. I’m not great company today.”
“And here I was, thinking I just had this effect on women.”
She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, doing more damage than repair, then replaces it to resume her self-soothing.
“What are you so scared of?”
Isabelle shrugs but something flickers in her eyes for the briefest moment. “I’m worried that if things escalate, I won’t be able to stop them. It’s not even as though I can leave here. You can do anything you want and there’s nothing I can do to protect myself.”
My voice drops to a lower, more soothing tone. “How many times do I have to repeat that I’ll never hurt you? What is this really about?”
“That is what this is about. I don’t know you well enough to know if you’re being honest or… or…” She trails off, huffing out a breath of air but still not resuming the abandoned sentence.
I try for levity. “You don’t? Right now, it feels like I’ve known you forever.”
“Yeah. I tend to wear on people.”
The low-grade despair in those words makes me groan. I desperately want to use my touch to reassure her. My skillset isn’t strong with words. I’m better at communicating physically and being unable to frustrates me.
Still, I try. “I think I could safely spend the rest of my life with you and never once worry that you’llwearon me.”
“That’s because—”
“It’s because you’re not the person the shitty voice in your head keeps insisting you are.”
That stops her for a second, but her insecurities soon rally. “You’ll get bored with me, or I’ll annoy you, and then… and then…”
