Page 19 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

She had her coat on, her brows pinched together, and her face was flushed.

“Is … everything okay?”

“Are you okay?”

He peeled an egg and put it on the board to chop. “Yeah … shouldn’t I be?”

“Can I check your arms?”

Now it was William’s turn to frown. “What? Why?”

She swept a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. “Can I? I just need to check.”

He clutched the next egg in his hand, not even realising he was holding it with enough force to make the shell crack. His neck grew hot. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me.” He saw now that her eyes were a little bloodshot, not just her cheeks being red. He held his arm out to her and she rolled up his sleeve. His skin was clear, except for the scars and healing marks from previous cuts. “And the other one.”

He did. “What’s this about Rosie? I’m fine. I …”

She turned his arms over, examining them close as if he’d somehow managed to cover up his self-harm marks and hide them. “Your shirt.”

“What?”

The look she gave him told him she was serious, not just some messing around. “Lift it.”

He did, putting the egg down first and then lifting his shirt for her to examine his torso—his other favourite self-harm area. “What’s going on?” he asked when she was done.

“Your appointment with Carly.”

“I told you, it was fine. Nothing new. We talked about Maria coming home and the decision on where to put her.”

“Exactly.” Rosie didn’t move back from him, but she folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a stare he wasn’t so sure he liked. It made him move uneasily away from her. “She called me today. She was worried about you because you didn’t show up.”

He breathed hard and chewed the inside of his cheek as she stared right into him and waited for his answers. He felt his own cheeks flushing with it.

“I’m not bothered that you lied to me William. I’m worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why didn’t you go?”

He turned away from her. His head swimming with it all. The food that had smelt delicious minutes ago, all warm rice, spices and boiled eggs, suddenly smelt sour to him and his stomach recoiled.

“You don’t have to go to therapy if you don’t want to. You’re an adult. It’s your choice, but you do have to be honest with me. If we don’t have honesty, what do we have?”

“Who’s Peter?”

She visibly moved back, although she didn’t take a step, but there was something in her stance. “What? Peter …how?”

“Who is he?”

“Someone from my parents’ place. Why?”

William nodded towards the hallway. “He called asking for you. Says to call him back.”

She looked at him like he’d hit her, and it was a worse look than the fact he had lied to her. “He’s more than that. Who is he?”

Rosie shot a breath out of her nose and shook her head. “My parents’ plan,” she said. “They want me to be the good wife at home with him. He’s the perfect son-in-law. His father owns a construction business. Big business.”

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