Page 20 of Love Me

“I still don’t feel great,” I said.

“You will make an appointment,” he said.

Owen stood and walked to the doorway, lifting me up by the ass and carrying me like I was a damsel in distress. He walked slowly through the hallways and kissed my forehead, making me feel like a princess.

In our bedroom, he laid me on the bed. I tried sitting up but he gently pushed down my shoulders.

“Let me take care of you,” he said.

He unbuttoned my shirt, pulled down my pants, and massaged my calves. I closed my eyes. It was easy to forget the ache in my breasts and the anxiety in my heart when he touched me like this.

“You’re beautiful, Riley Glass,” he said.

I opened my eyes. Owen stood over the bed, looking down at me, and smiled gently. I didn’t feel beautiful. I felt like a train had sliced me in two: my damp, sweaty skin from holding in nausea during an energy burst, and the complete lack of makeup or any sort of care to my appearance whatsoever. But I knew he was telling the truth.

He turned out the lights and rubbed my shoulders until I fell asleep.

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