Comforting hands scrape my hair back, keeping it off my face as I throw up the dinner I so lovingly prepared. When I’ve nothing left to expel, I rinse out my mouth with water before slumping against Keanu. His arms wrap around me, keeping me upright from behind.
Sobs rip from my tortured soul and I fall apart. He turns me around, holding me to his chest, and I collapse against him, soaking his shirt with my tears. “It’s okay, baby.” He smooths a hand up and down my back. “Let it all out.”
The image plays on a loop in my head, and I squeeze my eyes closed, attempting to shut it down, but it doesn’t work. Juanita is all I see in my mind’s eye. My bestie was clinging to my arm, crying. The reel extends beyond what was in the photo, and tightness spreads across my chest. I struggle to breathe. My limbs turn limp, and my stomach churns as a stampede of butterflies invades my belly and flutters throughout my chest.
The scent of lavender wafts through the air as Keanu dabs some oil on my wrist. “Breathe, Selena.” I inhale deeply, trying to control my anxiety as Keanu performs my deep-breathing exercises with me. Focusing on him and the familiar scent keeps the torturous images at bay. For now. Gradually, the attack passes, and I slump against Keanu again, clutching my necklace, physically and mentally exhausted.
“Selena, honey.” Mom’s troubled face lines up with mine. “How can I help? Do you want to come home?”
I shake my head, holding Keanu tighter. “I want to stay here, and I just need to sleep.” It’s the only way to blot out the pain of the recollection.
“Selena,” Keven says, stepping into my line of vision, his face riddled with remorse. “I’m so sorry.”
“I think you should go,” Keanu says in a clipped tone before scooping me up into his arms. I rest my head on his shoulder, clinging to him, siphoning his warmth and his support.
“Do you want me to stay?” Mom asks.
“No. I’m good,” I mumble.
“I will take care of her,” Keanu promises, and no one doubts it.
Hushed conversation takes place around me, but I zone out, only resurfacing in the real world when Keanu deposits me on the bed in his room. “I’m running you a bath,” he says before pressing a kiss to my forehead. I don’t respond, curling into a ball as I attempt to ward off the images that are now imprinted on my brain.
Keanu returns, lifting me off the bed and carrying me into the bathroom. Floral-scented steam surrounds me, its tendrils enveloping me, helping take the edge off my panic. Keanu puts my feet on the floor, and my arms drop to my sides. My body feels heavy and tired as I stand in the steam-filled bathroom, as if I’ve just run a marathon. I’m depleted, and I can’t even summon the energy to lift an arm, let alone undress.
“Do you want me to help?” he asks, and I nod, on auto-zombie mode. Slowly, he undresses me until I’m down to my panties and bra. “Are you good from here or…”
My eyes lift to his, and I silently convey what I can’t articulate.
That I need him, because I’ve lost myself.
“Are you sure?”
I manage a barely there nod.
His hands shake as he unclasps my bra, his fingers brushing my arms as he pulls the straps down, letting my bra drop to the tiled floor. An involuntary shiver skates over my flesh, but I barely feel his touch because I’m only half here. He stalls, pinning me with panicked eyes, and I know he’s terrified he’s hurt me.
“It’s okay,” I croak, managing to force the words out while staring blankly at him.
He scrutinizes my face before nodding. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he hooks his thumbs in the sides of my panties, dragging them down my legs.
I hold on to his shoulders as I step out of my panties, letting him lead me to the tub and help me in.
The warm water sloshes around my ankles, and heat creeps up my legs, unthawing me, a little bit at a time. I sit down, briefly closing my eyes and sighing in relief as warmth surrounds me on all sides. Keanu keeps his eyes down, not looking at my naked body, and my heart kick-starts as my limbs unfreeze.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “You’re a good man, Keanu.”
His eyes meet mine. “You’re scaring me, Sel. I don’t want to leave you in here like this. You’re not going to…”
“No.” I shake my head, knowing exactly where his head has gone.
In the weeks following my escape, after I discovered my family was murdered because of me, I contemplated ending it all. Tried a couple of times. Slit my wrists the first time. Tried to overdose on my prescription meds the second time. Put Mom through hell. A stint in a psychiatric unit helped pull me out of that suicidal abyss, and I haven’t considered it again, promising myself I would fight to survive. To live.
But I didn’t stick to that promise, and I’ve only really begun fighting back these past couple years.
As shocked as I am right now, killing myself hasn’t crossed my mind. Although I understand why Keanu has expressed concern.
“Join me?” I ask, and he staggers back in shock, clutching the edge of the marble countertop.
