Page 34 of Worthy

Wren and I are under the covers with the lights off. We polished off both bottles of wine and decided to try to get some shut-eye.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

It’s the first time either of us has spoken since getting into bed, though. The question comes out barely above a whisper, but her voice is steady despite me knowing she’s tipsy.

“It’s been bad for years, but I think it’s one of those things where I didn’t see it because I was too close to the situation. Looking back now, though, it’s painfully obvious.”

Speaking that truth out loud is hard. The words grate along my tongue like razor blades. Nobody wants to admit they were naïve and blind to abuse, and I’m no exception. What hurts the most, and what is probably the toughest pill to swallow, I think, is that people warned me about him. They expressed concern with my behavior, and how closed off I was becoming. I’ve never been an outgoing, bubbly person, but my need to recluse became overwhelming.

“Has he ever done what he did this time?” she asks softly, hesitantly. “This bad, I mean?”

The lump in my throat doubles in size as I try to swallow around it. I wish I could hide, even though she can’t see me in the dark. We’re so close to one another on this bed, I can practically taste the sweet Moscato on her breath.

“He…” The words die on my tongue, and I have to take a deep breath before continuing. “He hit me once before, but he was drunk, and I assumed—or hoped—it was an isolated incident.”

I feel her stiffen beside me. “When was that?”

“A few months ago.” I hate how small and weak my voice sounds. How small and weakIfeel.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Nelly?”

This is a question I’ve asked myself every single day since it happened. We tell each other everything. Or at least, we used to. “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “Like I said, I’d hoped it was a one-time thing, and I didn’t want you to freak out over nothing.”

“Over nothing?” She sits up on her elbows. I can’t see her too well, but I can make out her silhouette. “Penelope, your husbandhit you. I don’t give a shit if it was a one-time thing. That’s not nothing.”

Penelope.She never calls me by my real name. In the close to twenty years we’ve been friends, I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve beenPenelopeto her.

“Can we not?” I mutter. “Please? What’s done is done.”

“I just…” Wren blows out a breath, lying back down. “Wish I could’ve helped you sooner. I hate that you’ve had to go through this alone.”

Without thinking, I turn onto my side, curling my body into hers as I lay my head on her chest, arm wrapped across her stomach. She sucks in a breath, body going still for a moment before she wraps her arm around me too.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, loving the feel of her heartbeat beneath my ear.

“Shut up,” she mutters. I can hear the smile. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Now go to sleep.”

***

The room is pitch black when my eyes peel open. Glancing at the bright red numbers on the digital clock on the nightstand, it’s just before three in the morning. We must’ve finally dozed off a few hours ago. Wren still has her arm around my shoulders, my head still rested on her chest, her breathing steady but not totally even.

I think she’s awake too.

That thought is confirmed when she rolls onto her side, wrapping her other arm around me until I’m completely enveloped by her, my face nuzzled into her neck. Wren’s leg slides between mine, bent at the knee. Her nose buries into my hair, my heart racing when I hear her inhale my scent. Something washes over me at that subtle touch.

Desire or need or lust… maybe all three.

It’s a tidal wave, hitting me hard and ruthless, taking me by surprise.

The one and only time we ever kissed, I felt something, of course, but I was sad at the time. It wasn’t likethis.Arousal builds low, blood burning hot as a chill runs down my spine. Goosebumps break out all over my flesh, and when she adjusts the leg between mine, it rubs against my core, the friction pulling a soft moan from my throat.

Wren’s body stiffens against mine, maybe unaware that I’m awake too. I tighten my hold around her waist, bringing her closer to my body. We’re completely flush at this point. Every sensation, every move of her arm or leg, heightened. My nipples pebble, hard and sensitive against my cotton t-shirt.

The visceral reaction my body is having to her is confusing. Wren’s sweet scent fills my nostrils—something beachy and fresh—her body soft and supple against mine. My heart gallops in my chest when I feel how fast hers is racing.

Her body’s reacting to mine too.That fact sets my blood ablaze.

My hips begin to move of their own volition, rolling ever so slightly against her thigh that’s still tucked between my legs. I don’t fucking know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. In the morning, I’m probably going to wonder what the fuck came over me, but for right now, I can’t think of anything other than the way her thigh feels against my cloth-covered pussy.

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