This feels like an insurmountable task, one I’m failing at every turn. I can’t see any scenario where this ends well for anyone. Tears don’t fall this time, even though I’m torn into shreds on the inside. I think my tear ducts are broken too.
When the water turns cool and I notice my red, wrinkled skin, I finally get out and wrap myself in one of the big, fluffy towels.
Cristian is sitting on the bed when I enter my bedroom. He looks up, concern puckering his brow as his gaze roams over my red-raw skin. “I need privacy to get dressed,” I say in the same nonemotional voice. I can only imagine what he must be thinking. I wish I could do better, but I’m all out of juice. I just want to turn off the lights, crawl under the covers, and never resurface.
“Of course.” He stands. “I left a bottle of water and some peppermint tea by your bed. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.”
He approaches me cautiously, hesitating for a beat before he presses a lingering kiss to the top of my wet hair. “Try to get some sleep.”
I nod, though I doubt there is much sleep in my future.
“You’re scaring me a little.” With great tenderness, he angles my face so we’re staring into one another’s eyes. “Come get me if you need anything during the night.” He hugs me softly and gently, like I’m made of glass. “I mean it, Sloane. I don’t care if I’m asleep. Wake me.”
“Okay.”
“Are you sure nothing else happened?” he asks again. I’m not surprised he doesn’t believe me.
“I’m sure,” I lie.
He seems reluctant to leave, but thankfully, he does, sending one last concerned look my way before he closes the door.
I dress in leggings, fluffy socks, and a long-sleeve top because all my sleepwear is too flimsy, and I’m chilled to the bone. I drink my tea before turning off my bedside lamp and curling into a ball under the covers. Circling my arms around my middle, I tuck the covers around me like a human burrito, but nothing stops the persistent shivering that originates from deep in my fractured soul. I can’t form logical thoughts. My mind is a dark, dark place, and my heart is covered in the heaviest invisible scars. I just want it all to stop. The pain, fear, guilt, and worry are tearing me apart, and I fear there will be nothing left of Mom or me at the end.
* * *
Cristian
“I need to find him,” I say to John Angelo, talking in hushed tones in case Sloane reappears and overhears. “He did something to her. She’s traumatized, and it’s got to be his fault.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, boss. I didn’t get a good look at him, and he slipped out while I was talking to Sloane. We have nothing to go on unless she gives you a name.”
I swirl the Scotch in my glass and grip the crystal tight. “I know she’s not telling me the truth. Something happened tonight.”
John Angelo tries to hide it, but he looks at me like I’m losing it. Maybe I am, but it’s the only explanation. Unless he threatened her with something. I guess that’s a possibility. “I watched them the whole time. He held her hand for a bit and then put his forehead to hers, but he didn’t hurt her. It’s like she said. He cut her with his words. Emotional pain can be just as damaging as physical pain, boss.”
“I can’t do nothing.” I knock back my drink. “She’s hurting, and I feel helpless.”
“Like she said, he’s out of her life now. Best thing you can do is show up for her. Take care of her and show her you are nothing like that asshole. She’s young, and he was obviously toxic for her. A few days with you, and he’ll be a distant memory.”
“I hope you’re right.”
* * *
Sloane looks like she hasn’t slept at all when she surfaces early the next morning in Elio’s bedroom. Her face is pale, her eyes are bloodshot, and she seems unsteady on her feet. “Go back to bed,” I say. “I’ve got this.”
“Are you sick, Sloane?” Elio’s face scrunches in concern.
“It’s just a stomach bug.”
“Okay.” He grabs his bag, trying to lift it up by the straps, but it’s way too heavy. “I’m going on vacation with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“I know. Have the best time. I’ll miss you.” Sloane kneels and Elio strangle-hugs her.
“Careful, bud.”
“Want me to rub your sore tummy?” Elio asks her with wide-eyed innocence.
