Page 103 of Coercion

He turns and walks out and as if that’s the permission I need, I let the pain and the tiredness take me.

I let the heaviness sweep over everything.

I let myself succumb to sleep, hoping that maybe I won’t wake.

That maybe god is finally done with me.

That whatever awful things I did in another lifetime, my debt is now paid and I’ll be reborn into a new life, one not full of hardship, of pain, of the worst unimaginable fear that never seems to cease.

Preston

Ican’t take my eyes from her. I can’t bear to let her out of my hold.

She whimpers in pain and I know it’s my fault.

That I did this.

I’m the worst kind of monster imaginable.

How could I ever believe it, how could I ever even think she’d do such a thing?

I get up, grabbing the meds the doctor left and draw up a syringe. Apparently pills won’t cut it when you’ve done the kind of damage I have.

Her face is screwed up. Half of it is black with swelling from where my hands have laid into her.

I wish I could take it back, I wish I could take it all back and start again but it’s too late. It’s far too fucking late.

I pull the cover off, trying to be as delicate as I can but she still wakes as the needle slips into her skin. I hear the hiss, I hear the whimper, and I press the plunger down quickly before pulling it out.

“I’m so sorry.” I say for what feels like the thousandth time.

But I could say it a thousand times more, a million times more, and it still would not be enough.

I brush her hair back from her face, her brow is sweaty like she has a fever. She flinches at my touch, trying to move away and for that, I can’t blame her.

I grab a damp cloth and carefully dab her skin. “I won’t hurt you.” I murmur soothingly. “I’ll never hurt you.”

“But you did.”

Her words cut through me worse than any knife.

I steal my breath, trying to explain what the fuck I was thinking, “I thought you were a mole. I thought…”

“I told you.” She cries. “I told you over and over.”

“I’m so sorry.” I say again. I don’t know how to make her believe me, I don’t know how to fix this. If I even can fix this.

She whimpers again and I know the pain meds aren’t kicking in, that even with that, I’m not helping her.

“Tell me what to do.” I say. “Tell me. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

Her tears start to fall at those words. “There’s nothing you can do.” She whispers.

I choke, grabbing hold of her, hugging her so tightly in my desperation. “I won’t let you go. You’re my wife. I won’t let you leave me.”

Only, those words make her cry harder. Instead of comfort, it feels like a curse.

I’m damning us both in this moment.

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