Page 25 of Johnathan

No one had touched the scar except for her doctor. She hated touching it herself, especially in the fully numb spots where it hadn’t regained any feeling. No. She’d rather just forget it was there.

But then along came John. His finger grazed across the tight skin and a shiver rolled through her whole body.

“Why do you hide it?” he whispered.

“It’s hard to look at,” she answered, worrying the edge of her comforter. “The doctor said it’s a hypertrophic scar. Instead of healing and fading away, it’ll be red and raised for who knowshow long. Years of looking at it and remembering what he did. What he took from me.”

“It’s also an incredible reminder of how strong you are. How tough and determined you were to survive.”

“All I see is how weak I was to be unable to get away,” she confessed.

“I don’t think you should keep it hidden anymore.”

“I have to. I can’t look at it.”

“Abby,” John scooped up her hand. “No more turtlenecks. No more jackets zipped up to your chin.”

“What? No. I need to wear them. I’ll scare the kids. What would I even tell them happened?”

“You will not scare them. Kids are resilient. You’ll be able to help them build empathy and understanding that each person has something that makes them unique. Yours just happens to be that you survived a psychopath’s attack and are one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.” His face reddened again. “Maybe leave that last part out, though, when you talk to your students.”

“You really think it would be okay to not cover it up?”

“Fuck yes. And I think today is a great day to start.”

“I normally don’t cover it up at home.”

“Good. Don’t on my account.” He stood. “Are you feeling okay enough to get up and have some breakfast, or do you need to stay in bed a little longer?”

“I’m fine. I promise. It’s down to a dull ache and will probably be gone after I eat something.”

“Okay.” John looked like he wasn’t sure whether he should stay or go.

“Give me just a second to use the bathroom and pull myself together and then I’ll come make breakfast.”

“I’ll give you a minute, but you aren’t cooking. I’ve got it handled.”

“Oh. Um, okay. Thanks.”

John nodded and shut her bedroom door quietly.

“You got me groceries?” Abby scanned at her counter, overflowing with grocery bags that certainly weren’t there when they walked in the door the day before.

She’d changed into a different shirt and shorts than the ones she’d been sleeping in, and couldn’t help but notice the smile that grew on John’s face as he watched her walk towards him in the kitchen.

“It’s not anything crazy. I just researched what was good to eat after a migraine and then made sure you had what they suggested. Emma wasn’t sure if you had any strong food preferences, so I just asked her to make sure there was a bit of everything.”

Her heart dropped. Emma couldn’t tell Sam she was sick. He’d freak and be pounding down her door as soon as he heard.

“She isn’t going to tell Sam what happened, is she?”

“I don’t think so. She did tell me she’d call you later to check in.”

“Okay. And as long as you aren’t about to force me to eat sardines, I think we’ll be fine.” She walked over to the counter where he was leaning against and reached out, her hand landing on his arm as she went to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t have to do all this, but thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever taken care of me so well before.”

“I’m just glad I could help.”

“Is that why you did this?”

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