She takes a deep breath, her head nodding as she wipes away the tears streaming down her beautiful face. “Join me.”
I swear I stop breathing when she says the words.
“After you,” I whisper.
Watching as she steps in, a small whimper escapes her lips as the hot water meets her skin. Closing her eyes, she stands there, allowing the water to cleanse her. The water coming down her body is dirty and bloody. Unlike me, Ronnie preferred to sleep. I took a shower the moment a bag with my belongings was given to me. Our parents had to wait around until we were ready, but it was nice to at least be clean and dressed in normal clothing after being dirty for so long. Her eyebrows relax, her shoulders release the weight they’ve been carrying. I hold out a bar of soap to her, and she takes it silently, rubbing it across her body. The scent of lavender fills the air.
“Is it too hot?” I ask, before stepping in behind her.
“It’s perfect.”
“Need help?”
Ronnie hums, letting her hand fall to her side. “Can you do my hair?”
“Of course.” I grab the shampoo I'm sure her mother brought her and pour some into my hand. The scent of strawberries fills the air as I gently apply it to her hair, rubbing it into a lather.
“Close your eyes,” I whisper, my fingers working in slow strokes, massaging her scalp.
Her head leans back into my touch, and I continue to work diligently, washing away the grime. My heart squeezes inside my chest, thankful that she trusts me enough to allow me to be close to her. To touch her. I don’t deserve this… And if I ever felt unworthy of her, right now I feel even more so.
I can’t help but think about how strong she is. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. She’s been through hell and back, and yet, here she stands even as the pieces continue to fall off her. But it’s okay. I’ll be behind her, collecting them as we go. I rinse the suds from her dark hair, my eyes never leaving her small figure. As the last of the soap washes away, her hair tumbles down over her shoulders, stopping underneath her breasts, slick and shiny, clinging to her skin like a silken veil.
“That’s it,” I murmur, my voice barely more than a whisper as the water continues to fall around us. She turns then and uses the bar of soap. “Can I?” she asks, slowly lifting her gaze to meet mine. Tears pool in her eyes when I nod, giving her permission to touch me. Her hands move the bar of soap across my chest.
Her touch is so gentle it’s almost non-existent, as if she’s afraid of me breaking under the contact. I lock my eyes with hers, encouraging her. Her gaze flits downwards, eyelashes casting shadows over her sharp cheekbones, and she focuses on her task. Her hands move in small circles, soap bubbles forming as she traces the bar of soap across my skin. I can’t help but close my eyes, body tense as I concentrate on her every movement. The scent of lavender mingles with the strawberry from her hair, and it’s an intoxicating aroma.
“Is it too much?” she asks, her voice a low murmur over the sound of cascading water. Her fingers pause, hovering just above my skin, waiting for my response.
“No,” I say, my voice sounding rougher than I’d intended. “It’s perfect.”
Slowly, and with a touch so careful it’s as if she’s handling glass, she continues. Suddenly, sobs erupt from her, causing her to fall to her knees. The soap slips from her hands, and I fall to my knees, too. My arms wrap around her as I draw her close to me, the water falling on us as she sobs into me.
“Give it all to me, Trouble. I’m here,” I whisper, continuing to be her anchor. Her body violently shakes, and her hands claw at my skin, but I hold firm. “Let it all out. Let it all out. Don’t let him win. Stay here with me. I need you.” Her cries echo hauntingly across the tile, a symphony of pain that’s heartbreaking to hearbut necessary for her to release. Slowly, her sobs begin to subside, and she quiets within my arms. The water continues to fall, steaming and drenching us, but it can’t wash away the past. It can’t erase the fear that’s been etched into her very bones. But it provides a semblance of cleansing, the heat seeping into our skin, and for now, that’s enough. As long as we are breathing, we are both living. And as long as we are living, we can put the pieces back together or create something better.
Something beautiful.
Chapter Thirty
Veronica
Despite showering, I still feel dirty. The sensation of a million insects crawling beneath my skin has me scratching with no ease. Scratching until it burns. Until the sensation of pain is all I can focus on instead of him.
There’s no escaping. I still feel Harry… smell him on me. It doesn’t help that when I look at my hands, all I see is blood.His blood. It’s a constant battle with myself, fighting the need not itch my skin as reminders of Harry’s unwanted touch linger. I try to hold tight to the memories of Iz. If only I could drown in him. Replace every touch with his. Maybe I can if I try.
If only it were his, the only one I feel. The one from my very first touch from my very first and only love. My eyes follow the muscles of Isaac’s back as he slips back into his boxers, the perfect scorpion tattoo illuminated by the fluorescent light of the hospital bathroom. The dark ink snakes down his taut skin. My fingers itch to trace it every single time it comes into view. I want to, but instead, my hands lie flat on my chest, feeling the rapid beating coming from within. My fingers, with a mind of their own, move lower. Down to my womb, to where a part of each of us comes alive. The words form in my throat, a lump rolling upwards at rapid speed. It didn’t feel heavy—not this part.
“I don’t know if I want…” I say in a hushed tone, the words fading into silence as the sound of blood rushing to my ears takes hold. My pulse spikes, as goosebumps slide along the back of my neck. Isaac freezes in place, his body turning to face me, his hazel eyes meeting mine with a bittersweet smile on his handsome face. He gives me his full attention, leaving no room for anything else. There’s a sadness hidden behind the admiration he looks at me with, making my heart squeeze inside my chest. Slowly, he lifts his body to his full height, moving with careful precision… His words are soft. “It’s okay to feel this way, not want to keep it. Don’t feel ashamed to tell me how you feel. I’m with you... It’s your body. Your choice, I’ll support you either way. I could never fault you.”
Isaac moves carefully towards me, his posture asking permission to approach. I’m rendered speechless by the look in his eyes, the one that tells me I’m not alone. I’m loved. Leaving no room for misinterpretation. I’m so transfixed on him that my eyes begin to burn from the lack of blinking. I take a deep breath in, letting my lungs expand with oxygen.Of him.The warmth of skin seeps into my brittle, cold bones, sending waves of it through my body. Sparking nerves to come alive and tingle. I swallow hard, biting my lower lip.
“You’re not upset?”
“Not one bit. I’m with you whether you end the pregnancy or not. It’s all up to you. I’m just here for you to lean on whichever way you decide to take.” His hand moves to my cheek, his thumb tracing a small line on my skin. “What matters is you. Making the choice that feels right for you. Tell me, how are you feeling about all of this?”
“How do I feel? Truthfully, I wouldn’t know. I barely had any time to process the news myself.” I take a deep breath before adding, “I don’t know… I just feel relieved it’s not Harry’s. At the same time, I’m not sure if I’m cut out to be a mother. When I’m not even sure who I am right now…” I let out a huff of air, feeling the tears gathering in my eyes. “I just wish this was something I decided, not something imposed on me. You know?”
Isaac nods, even though his eyes darken, his hold on my cheek becomes possessive as his body tenses at the mention of Harry. Jaw clenching so hard he could break a molar, and still through it all, he holds me. He stays here with me.
