“I…” A tear fell down her cheek, and I couldn’t resist swiping it away and keeping my hand against her face. “I don’t know.” She heaved a breath. “I don’t know, Cade.”
My stomach dipped the longer I stared at her and tried to piece everything together, but I couldn’t come up with a logical answer. Something was happening to her, and there was no way I would stand by and let her lose herself more and more.
“We need to get you help,” I told her.
She yanked herself away from me and paced the length of the living room. “Because I went shopping?” She laughed, but the sound was manic. “I don’t need help because I bought a few—”
“You didn’t buy a few things, Aria,” I ground out. “Look at the amount of stuff you got.” I waved my hand to the sofa. “Something is going on with you—”
“There’s nothing going on with me.” She pulled her shoulders back and schooled her features into the mask I’d been so used to seeing her wear lately. And that was when I realized she’d been lying by omission this whole time. Since we’d been caught in my classroom by Willow, I thought she was fine, but I should have known better. You didn’t go from cutting yourself at school to everything being perfect in the blink of an eye.
“Have you been cutting?” I blurted out, and at my words, she came to a dead stop. Her eyes were downcast, her gaze not meeting mine. Moving toward her slowly, I repeated, “Have you been cutting?”
“I—”
“Don’t lie to me, Aria. Look at me when you answer.”
She huffed out a breath, but I wouldn’t let her get away without telling me. I’d been so stupid thinking she was okay. She wasn’t okay. She was the furthest from okay possible, and I’d sat back and gone along with everything Willow said so nothing would change.
“Yes,” she whispered, finally turning to look at me.
My shoulders slumped, and I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “How often?”
She’d told me months ago that she didn’t cut more than once a week, so when she said, “Every day,” I stumbled back a step. “Sometimes twice.” My shoulders drooped, and I knew I shouldn’t have shown her every emotion I was feeling, but the thought of her hurting herself over and over again was enough to knock me off-balance. “I had to,” she said in a rush and darted forward. “You don’t understand, Cade. I needed to be strong, I had to do it. Otherwise…” She trailed off, and I heard her unspoken words loud and clear.
“You wouldn’t be able to survive?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
“You need help, Aria.”
“No.” Her eyes sprung open, and she backed away. “Please, Cade. Please. I don’t want anyone knowing I cut. Please.”
I stared at her, really stared at her, and had no idea where to go from here. She was adamant about not wanting help with her cutting, but her turning up at my house in the middle of the night with bags full of clothes she’d bought had nothing to do with her self-harming.
Maybe if I got her to see a doctor about what happened tonight, she’d be willing to open up about her cutting in the future. She needed to take baby steps, and I was okay with that because there was no way I could sit by and watch the woman I loved disappear before my very eyes.
“Okay.” I huffed out a breath and held my hands up. “You don’t have to see anyone about your cutting, but”—I stepped toward her and grasped her hand—“I want you to go and see someone about what happened tonight.” She opened her mouth, but I shook my head. “You know what happened isn’t normal. You know that.” Her limp fingers now gripped me tighter, almost as if her body was waking up.
“I know,” she whispered. “But I’m scared.”
I moved closer and wrapped my arm around her waist. “Why?”
“I’m scared they’ll say I’m like my dad.” She hiccupped a sob, and I held her tighter. “I’m not like him, Cade. I swear, I’m not. I’d never do the things he did. Never.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” I placed my hand on the side of her neck, my thumb rubbing back and forth against the dip in her throat. “You’re not him, baby. I promise you’re not.”
She nodded, tears flowing down her face as fast as rain hitting the ground during a storm. “I just want to feel normal again. I just…I want it all to stop.”
Leaning my forehead against hers, I asked, “What do you want to stop, baby?”
“The pain,” she croaked out. “The agony.” She gripped my arms. “I need it all to go away.”
“We’ll do it,” I told her, pulling away a little so I could stare into her eyes and drive my point home. “But the first step is to see someone, yeah?”
Her exhale of breath hit my face. “Will you take me?”
I pulled her against my chest and rocked her side to side. “Of course I will.” I wasn’t sure how long I stood there holding her, but once she stopped shaking, I pulled back and said, “Let’s get you showered and in bed.”