Gingerly, I peeled the dirty clothes off my battered body––my silk shirt ripped, a tar stain running down the length of my pants. Now that the rush had worn off, everything ached.
“Motherfucker!” Sebastian shouted. I jerked in surprise, my nerves painfully sensitive. Inadvertently, I’d revealed a welt on my hip the size of a dinner plate. Grimacing, he sat on the edge of the tub and inspected the wound closer. Tracing it with his fingers, he said, “Does it hurt?” His voice was gentle, comforting, a cashmere blanket, hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day…a complete departure from the harbinger of doom I met in the backseat of the car.
God, I loved this man. I still hadn’t reached the bottom of that supply. With everything he had endured, he still thought of my welfare first. “It’s just tender.” I stroked his hair off his face, ribbons of silk gliding through my fingers.
“What would I do without you?”
He glanced up then, his eyes capturing mine. The force of his thoughts, of his adamantine will, was a palpable thing. “You’ll never have to find out.”
Minutes later we were both in the tub, the hot water washing away all the obstacles life kept throwing at us. For the moment I felt born again. As I lay back against him, wrapped in the safe harbor of his arms, both of us were quiet, lost in contemplation. I was rubbing his injured leg, stiff from overexertion, when an insidious thought entered my mind.
“Darling…”
“Hmm.”
“I saw Isabelle in town.” Behind me, he shifted, his muscles tautening with a heightened sense of awareness. “She apologized.”
“Did she?” he drawled darkly.
“Yes…she was genuinely remorseful.” As silent as he was, he may as well have been shouting his judgement at the top of his lungs. I pressed on. “She said Paisley had been arrested.”
“Hmm.”
“For drugs and drunk driving.”
“Yeah.”
The question was on my lips and yet… I couldn’t force it out of my mouth. Always three chess moves ahead, he beat me to it. “What do you want to know, Vera?”
I hated the note of disappointment in his voice, as if I’d let him down in someway. Holding my breath, I said, “Did you have anything to do with it?” Curiosity again outmuscled any instinct I may have had for self-preservation.
“Are you asking if I had her arrested for a crime she didn’t commit?” Out loud, it did sound absurd. He breathed out and said, “No, I didn’t.”
The tension in my chest faded away, only to be replaced by more shame. I loved this man. I respected this man. And what had he ever gotten in return from me but a steaming pile of distrust.
I was ashamed of myself––and yet I didn’t know how to change it. I’d spent too many years looking over my shoulder, expecting people to disappoint me, and up until he walked into my life, they had.
“I knew she was using. I knew her habits. I just brought it to the attention of the right people.”
The silence that followed was not a comfortable one. I turned around to face him, floating above his prone body. On the surface he was a mythical, larger-than-life creature, but on the inside just a man, with all the same needs and wants as any other human being. To be loved, to be understood. It was easy to forget when confronted with all that power and the glossy veneer of his model good looks. He watched me expectantly, his eyes begging for something I didn’t know how to give. He didn’t need to voice the question…the accusation. It hung between us as clear as a neon sign.
Why won’t you trust me?
Leaning closer, I brushed my lips on his. Once. Twice.
“Be patient with me,” I murmured, guilt coloring my tone. I wondered if he could hear the desperate longing in my voice. He grabbed my face and kissed me passionately…the answer was on his lips.
Chapter Ten
In the examination room bare, antiseptic walls glared back at me. The last time I’d sat on this table my world had come undone. All those confused feelings…
There was no longer any confusion. If I could only travel back in time, I’d let myself be happy about it. I’d savor every precious minute.
Stepping into the room, Maria Rossetti pushed her horn-rimmed glasses high up on her head and smiled affectionately. “How have you been?”
“Good. I feel really good––back to normal.” She checked my paperwork and put on a pair of rubber gloves.
“Let’s see. Open your gown.” She listened to my heartbeat, checked my pulse and temperature. “And emotionally?”
“I’m…I’m not sure. Some days I feel like I’m doing better, that I’ve finally put it in its place, and then something will remind me and I’m in hysterics again. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Lay back,” she instructed. “That’s perfectly normal. Have you resumed having sex? I know you stopped by the other day for a Depo shot.”