Page 30 of Finding Gwen

Ollie…

It hit me that as much as I was enjoying this time with Anthony, it wouldn’t last forever. He was a father, and I was his nanny. We would have to talk about everything that had happened before Ollie came home. Wondering when that would be, I opened my eyes and lifted my head, turning to Anthony. “When do you have to go get Ollie?” I asked.

“He’s having a blast at Katie’s. I told him Ms. Gwen wasn’t feeling good, and HE told me that I needed to take care of you.” Anthony chuckled while my heart nearly exploded in my chest. “I think it’s for selfish reasons, of course. He knows you’re the fun one and if you can’t play, then he’s stuck with his boring dad.” The edges of my mouth curled up into a smile. That boy had my entire heart. I would do just about anything he asked of me.

“Let’s focus on you right now,” he muttered, the lightness in his eyes helping to settle the uncertainty I had been feeling moments ago. Anthony reached for the body wash in the corner of the tub. Putting some on the other washcloth, I was drawn to the bubbles forming as he rubbed the sides of it together. He cleared his throat, and I was looking at him again.

“I’ll be right back, okay? You wash up and I’ll knock when I get back.” He handed me the washcloth in his hand, then stood and flashed a small smile over his shoulder as he walked out of the bathroom.

This man… I didn’t have to ask, he just knew. Stretching out my legs, I looked down at my body and took in the full extent of the bruises. The one that started on my hip was larger than my hand. The ones on my inner thigh were smaller and spread out. A knot formed in my stomach and tears threatened the edges of my eyes again as I tried to scrub it away. I wanted it gone.

Logically, it didn’t make sense, but logic went out the window a long time ago. This wasn’t fair. I scrubbed harder, everything starting to numb as the adrenaline in my body took over, my heart beating faster and faster. The healthy skin around the bruise started to turn pink.

A soft knock barely registered in my mind while I continued scrubbing. The skin was red now, but the bruise was still there. I needed it gone.

Another knock followed by Anthony’s muffled voice on the other side of the door. “Gwen, can I come in?” I didn’t answer. The proof of last night was still on my body and I wanted it gone. The water was turning a light shade of pink now, but it still wasn’t enough.

The door creaked open and footsteps followed. “Gwen…” Anthony’s voice trailed off, my mind not registering what he was saying, even though he was right next to me. I knew what he must have been thinking. The tears falling from my cheeks into the water betrayed me. I wasn’t sad.

I was angry.

I was angry that I had to look at my body and have these bruises remind me of what happened. I just wanted to forget.

“Luce mia, stop!” A voice yelled, grabbing my wrist and yanking it away from my body. The anger in the voice paired with the tightening grasp caused my body to seize.

No, I wasn’t letting this happen again.

“Let go of me!” I screamed. I was in control. He may have taken that away from me before, but not this time. I whipped my head around, but it was Anthony crouched in front of me, not the masked attacker.

He released my wrist and sat back on his heels, putting a few inches between us. It was enough for my body to realize I wasn’t in danger. I hastily wiped away the stray tears from my cheeks, then met Anthony’s gaze. Regret washed over me at the sight of his furrowed brows and wide eyes. He had seen me through today and didn’t deserve my anger. My face relaxed, an apology forming on my lips.

“It’s okay,” Anthony said, not letting me get out the words. “I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission. I promise to never do it again.” I simply nodded my head, acknowledging his words, but unsure what to say.

“Can I help you get out?” Anthony offered, gesturing to the towel that was draped across his lap. Nodding my head, I left the washcloth on the tub spout, not bothering to wring it out. Anthony had the towel open in his arms with his forearm close to my body. I grabbed on, using it to steady myself as I stood. Stepping out of the tub, I turned away from him and wrapped the towel around myself, the warmth enveloping me, surprising but welcoming. It felt like it had been just taken out of the dryer and I silently wondered if it had.

I turned to thank him, but the words were stuck in my throat, the ones that let him know how much I appreciated him and everything he had done today. If it weren’t for him…

Tears burned the back of my eyes. Everything that I had been shoving down was rising to the surface. All the anger, disgust, fear, grief, shame; I no longer had the energy to keep it down.

“Luce mia…” Anthony hesitated, keeping his promise not to touch me without my permission. A sob escaped my throat as I threw myself at him, clinging to his shirt. Anthony wrapped his arms around me, while tears streamed down my face.

“I’ve got you… I’m right here…” he whispered into my hair. Sob after sob shook my body until it wasn’t enough. There was too much, and I was going to explode if I didn’t let it out.

A scream filled the bathroom. My scream.

But I didn’t stop. I screamed again. And again.

I screamed until my throat was raw and my body had gone completely numb. I screamed until Anthony’s hold on me was the only thing keeping me from crumpling to the floor. I screamed until my vision started to darken at the edges and I could no longer breathe.

“Gwen, sweetheart.” Anthony’s hushed voice broke through the haze that had settled over my mind. “I need you to take big, deep breaths with me.” He exaggerated his inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling steadily under me, and rubbed my back in long strokes.

I took in several shaky breaths and slowly, the pins and needles in my face from the lack of oxygen disappeared. We continued like that for several minutes, Anthony showing no indication of wanting to let go. When I did finally lift my head off his chest, he looked down at me, a glazed over look in his eyes as if he had been trying to hold back his own tears.

“You are so strong, luce mia,” he whispered. “Stronger than you know. When you forget that, I will always be here to help hold you up.” He kissed the top of my head, sealing his promise. His body shifted and the next moment, he was carrying me from the bathroom to the bed.

Sitting me on the edge, he grabbed a shirt from beside me. He maneuvered it over my head and gently urged my arms through the sleeves before pulling it down over the towel that was still wrapped around my body. I was grateful for the coverage, feeling all too vulnerable. Grabbing the sweatpants next, my heart jumped when he knelt on one knee to lift my feet and legs into the holes. He shimmied them up to my knees before standing up and offering me his hands to help me up. Letting the towel fall to the floor, he pulled up the pants and tied them just below the bruise that was now surrounded by abrasions.

“I’ll be right back,” Anthony said, before retreating to the bathroom and returning with a clean washcloth and a small tube. He pointed to my hip when he spoke, “I want to dry it off and put on some antibiotic ointment, if that’s okay.”

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