Page 98 of American Beauty

Alex drops his head back against the couch. “Can’t say I wasn’t afraid of that myself. I’m still thinking about it.”

Who could blame him?

I lift his hand, running my thumb along his knuckles. He watches me, saying nothing, but his body tenses at my touch. His hands look rough—split skin, smeared blood, swelling already forming.

“You need to be cleaned up.” I push to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

And for the first time since he walked back through my door tonight, I feel like I can take care of him. Make him feel better.

I return with antiseptic and cotton balls, kneeling before him without a word. Antiseptic seeps into the raw cuts across his knuckles, turning the deep scrapes an angry red. Not a flinch. Not a single sound. Just the steady weight of his gaze locked onto my face.

The silence stretches as I clean the wounds and wrap his knuckles. He lets me. No protests, no stubborn remarks.

The cut above his brow is bad. Blood trickles from the deep gash, trailing toward his temple. I reach for another cotton ball, dabbing at it with a softer touch.

“This one’s deep. I think it needs stitches.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“With all due respect, you’re not the one looking at it right now.” I press the gauze and hold pressure to stop the bloody ooze. “It’ll scar if you don’t get it stitched.”

The corner of his mouth twitches—almost amused. “I like scars.”

A quiet sigh slips from my lips, but I don’t argue. “At least let me cover it with something that’ll keep the cut pulled together. It’s bleeding everywhere.”

He nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”

I pull the broken skin together and apply adhesive strips. “Happyis a stretch, but it’ll help to put me at ease.”

Something flickers in his expression—something softer. “Do what you need to do.”

And I do. Because it’s the only thing I can control right now.

My hands rest on my thighs as I kneel before him, searching his face, hoping for something—anything—that tells me we can get through this.

“Please don’t hate me.”

His head snaps up, his bloodshot eyes locking onto mine. “I could never hate you.” His jaw tightens, the muscle in it starting to tic. “But what that fucker said––”

Ty said a lot. Buttasting me—that’s the one that sent Alex into a blind rage, the one tearing him apart.

That part wasn’t untrue, but it was misleading. I’m sure Alex must be thinking the worst.

My insides are unraveling. “I will tell you everything, and I won’t lie to sugarcoat it. I don’t want you to ever have to wonder.”

“Never thought you would.” He exhales, his nostrils flaring. “This is something I have to hear. I just don’t want to.”

Understandable. It would gut me to hear details about his sexual encounter with another woman.

“Whenever you’re ready––”

He interrupts. “I need this to be over with. Tell me what happened, but with as few details as possible.”

“All right.”

I clear my throat, summoning the courage to say the words before I lose my nerve. “The first incident… there was some touching––his hands on my legs. He kissed my thigh, just the one kiss though, and offered to go down on me. That was it.”

He blows a deep breath between pursed lips. “Okay.”

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