Page 253 of The Bonus

He leans up against the tiles.

“Can I have some privacy, please?” I ask.

“I don’t want you to fall.”

“I’m fine, I’m just standing here. I’m not going to fall.”

He walks into the bedroom and I put my face under the water. It runs over the top of my head, wetting my hair.

I need to get off this medication. It’s making me weak.

I stand under the water for a long time and it’s the weirdest thing, such a simple thing as him seeing my C-section scar has cut me wide open.

I’m back there, my heart feels just as broken as the day that he kicked me to the curb.

Eventually, I turn the shower off and he appears with a towel, as if he knows what’s going on inside my head. He wraps me in it and softly dries me. He ties it around my chest and I hop to the sink and brush my teeth, and he helps me out into the bedroom. I see he has my nightdress laid out on the bed.

“Arms up.” I put my arms up and he slides it over my head. “Sit on the bed and let me dry your hair.” I sit down and he towels my hair, he does it rougher and rougher. “You call me barbaric.” I wince.

He chuckles. “Let me brush it.” He softly brushes my hair and I stare at the wall, again overcome with emotion.

Why is brushing my hair a big deal?

It’s the meds…it has to be the meds.

Eventually, he folds the blankets back and I lie down. “Pillow under your arm and leg on the edge tonight, I can’t sleep like I did last night,” he says. “Oddly enough, I need to breathe.”

I smile at my dramatics about his breathing last night. I lie down and he turns off the light and slides in behind me. He puts his hand on my hip bone and I can hear his mind ticking over a million times a minute as he thinks.

“Did you love me?” he whispers. “Back then.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

I hesitate. I don’t want to answer that while I’m feeling like this. “Good night, Gabriel.”

He stays silent, his hand tightening around my hip.

“It’s a yes or no question, did you ever love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still love me…even a little?”

I don’t answer…because I can’t. Because once I give him an inch, he’s going to take a mile and I can’t deal with losing myself all over again.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” He grips my hip bone and pulls me back against his body. “We’re going to make it, Grace,” he whispers. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

“Good night,” I whisper into the darkness.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What’s that?”

“We take sex out of the equation.”

“What?”

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