I lick my lip and taste the metal. “It’s nothing.”
“Fuck, Steph. It’s not nothing. I hurt you.”
“Cal, it was an accident.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” His thumb runs along my lip, and I lick any traces of blood away.
“It’s nothing, really. I can’t even feel it.” I lie. It stings, but the touch of his thumb there seems to make it all better. Even if it is only for a moment.
The soft light coming from the hall bounces off his watery eyes and when he blinks, I see a tear run to the side of his face. I place my hand on his cheek and wipe his tear with my thumb, as he has done with me many times. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable.
Was it the dream or the fact that he thinks he has physically hurt me? He could never physically hurt me. He’s the gentlest person I know, unless he has me bent over, but that’s different. His dad messed up his head. Watching him abuse his mother couldn’t have been easy, it torments him, thinking he will turn out the same. He could never be like his dad. He just doesn’t have it in him to hurt a woman.
“Talk to me, Cal. You can talk to me.”
“I’m fine.” He kisses my forehead. “You should go back to bed.”
“I’m comfy here.” I snuggle into him more. My cast rests on his chest, and I trace his ink with my fingers peeking out from under the plaster.
“It’s the same nightmare I have most nights,” he whispers.
“I’ve never known you have nightmares.”
“It’s since your accident.”
“Oh.” I freeze.
“You’re dead.” His body stiffens and his breathing stops for a moment.
I bring my lips to his cheek and kiss him there. “I’m not dead. I’m here, and I’m very much alive.”
He closes his eyes and holds me close. “If anything had happened to you, Steph. If you hadn’t made it—” His voice quivers.
“Shh. I made it. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
* * *
CAL
When I wakeon the rug, she’s gone. I walk into the kitchen to her making coffee.
“Mammamam.” Caleb bangs a plastic cup against his high chair tray.
“Hey, mate.” I ruffle his thick black hair and catch a glimpse of his dimples. “Steph, you shouldn’t have carried him downstairs. Why didn’t you wake me?”
She doesn’t turn around, but shrugs a shoulder. “You needed your sleep. I’m much better. I can lift him with my good arm. Besides, I’m getting my pot off soon.”
Standing behind Steph, my finger holds her chin, and I turn her to me so I can inspect her swollen lip. “Fuck, Steph.”
She looks down. “Cal, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fucking fine, Steph. I’m so sorry.” Acid burns my chest, after what I did to her.
She steps closer to me. “It’s nothing, really.”
“How can you say that? Look at you. I can’t believe I hit you.” The words take my breath away. Are we really having this conversation?
Her eyebrows pinch together. “You didn’t hit me, Cal. You could never hit me.”