“When was the last time you showered?” he asked bluntly.
And there he was, the man I’d thought I’d lost forever. I blushed, more than a little embarrassed by my own lack of hygiene. “It’s been a few days,” I admitted.
“I knew you needed someone to take care of you,” he said, stepping back from my arms.
“What?” I asked dumbly, still unable to believe he was here with me.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you into the bath.”
The bath. I had to be dreaming this. This had to be my subconscious telling me that I desperately needed to bathe, to take care of myself, that I had reasons to take care of myself. It was hard to say what reasons there were, but I knew they existed.
I let him lead me in the direction of my own bedroom, and he tugged my hand until we were in the bathroom.
“Get undressed,” he told me.
I had to be dreaming. He never would’ve told me to undress. But I obeyed anyway, wanting to lose myself in this dream for as long as possible.
He started to run the water, testing the temperature over and over until he was satisfied enough to put the stopper in. “There we go,” he said.
I stepped into the tub, letting out a soft groan as the hot water swirled around my ankles. Slowly, I lowered myself until I was sitting down, the water crashing down over my feet as I settled in. When had I last taken a bath? It had been so long that I didn’t even remember.
“Where are your extra sheets and stuff?” he asked once I was settled. “I’m guessing you haven’t changed those either.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Hall closet,” I told him. “But you don’t have to?—”
“I know I don’t have to. But I’m not ready for your questions yet either,” he interrupted me.
I had plenty of those.
“Just enjoy your bath,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Promise?” I asked, my voice rough.
He nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words made it possible to relax back in the tub, and I watched as he left the bathroom — presumably to change my sheets for me. I could hear him moving around, and I was warm inside and out at the idea of him doing something like that of his own volition.
He’d come back of his own volition, too.
I didn’t know what that meant.
But he’d kissed me, too…
I washed my hair while he was gone, wanting to be clean from head to toe, and it would help me start to get my head together.
He returned after a few minutes, and I could see then how tired he looked. He may have been taking care of himself on the outside, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much he’d taken care of the more important pieces of himself.
Not very well, if he was back here with me, I couldn’t help but cynically think.
“You came back,” I said, unable to think of anything else.
“I never really left,” he replied, not looking at me.
“I missed you too,” I said, finally responding to the words he’d spoken near the doorway.
He glanced at me then, a small smile on his lips. It didn’t reach his eyes, though, and I wasn’t sure what I’d have to do to get him to relax alongside me. He found a washcloth and tossed it into the water. “Bathe,” he ordered.
There was a part of me that wanted to ask him who hethought he was to give me orders in my own house, but I bit the words back. He was taking care of me, and he wasn’t exactly wrong in telling me to bathe.
