It’s no use.
This is it. The trickle that breaks the dam.
A sob heaves from my chest, and with it a million tears thrust their way to freedom. My knees buckle and my hand splays on the tile, steadying me as I slide down until I’m a crumpled heap over the drain.
An endless stream of fiery drops rains over me, mixing with salted hot tears and spit and snot, the rush of the water cloaking my cries until I’m depleted, and my scalding shower runs cold.
Too tired to think or feel or function beyond going through the motions anchored in muscle memory, my hand reaches up to turn the water off. My body shakes from the cold and wet, but I stay leaning against the tile, face pressed to the stone, fooling my shattered heart and broken mind into feeling embraced. Held by the lifeless walls of my shower.
I must fall asleep, because my body has stopped shaking from cold and anguish when I register my surroundings again. My skin has dried and my hair has plastered itself to my face, my arm, and half of my back. Like a misshapen cape on a clumsy superhero still unaware of his impending failure.
I’m not so unaware.
Everything hurts when I try to stand and I end up crawling across my bathroom to the door before I find the strength, and the dignity, to stand.
I pull a towel from the shelf, and three others come with it, falling to the floor. I don’t care.
I keep walking, wrapping the soft cotton around my body as I go.
Food has lost its appeal.
My bed is calling. And with it, a gracious escape into a dreamless sleep.
When I wake the next time, Harriet has returned and taken to sleeping on my chest, purring quietly while her eyes flick lazily in my direction every time I move a little.
“You’re home,” I whisper, digging one hand free from the covers to pet her. “I’m glad you’re here.” She barely acknowledges my appreciation. Just closes her eyes and proceeds to ignore me while her kitty-motor hums away, lulling me back to sleep.
The buzzing of my doorbell rips me from my sleep the third time. Oblivious to time, or the fact I’m naked under the towel haphazardly clinging to my body, I scramble from my covers to answer the incessant intruder.
I trip over my feet halfway across the bedroom, then slide on the socks I abandoned in the hall, but finally, and now wide awake, I arrive at the door and open it.
“Good evening,” a young man with spikey blue hair, glasses, and a taco tattoo on his forearm greets me. “I have a food delivery for Liz Penny.” He smiles. When I notice his gaze stay rigidly locked on my face, I remember I’m wearing a towel and glance down to feign a sense of decency I’ve long abandoned.
“Sorry,” I mumble, pulling up the terrycloth on the verge of revealing my left nipple. It takes another second after I’ve adjusted my towel and re-secured it in place before I register what he’s said. “I didn’t order any food.”
The kid nods, smirking oddly as he shifts around the large paper bag in his hands in search of something. A second later, he’s fumbling with the receipt. “I believe the order was placed by a Jovi Daniels.” He holds the crumpled piece of paper toward me. “He added a note.”
Frowning, I take it from him to see for myself.
Fucking eat.
That’s his note. No wonder the kid didn’t want to read it out loud.
“Thanks,” I mumble, reaching one hand out to take the bag while holding my towel in place with the other.
“You’ve got two bottles of water in there too,” the kid goes on. “He said to make sure you knew.” His previously amused manner fades a bit. “Do you need anything else? Your boyfriend seemed kinda worried about you when he called in the order.”
I almost choke on my own spit. “Not my boyfriend. More like my legally bound life partner.”
He frowns. “Like an arranged marriage?”
I consider his description and nod. “Yeah, kind of.” I wrap my arm around the bag of food. It’s still hot and my body soaks up the warmth like a plant takes in rain after drought. “Let me get you a tip, hold on.”
“No need.” He waves me off. “Mr. Daniels has already taken care of that.”
I guess Mr. Daniels takes care of everything. Including me.
I sniff. I don’t know why that pisses me off so much.
