Page 281 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
When did you get it?I gesture.
“I was twenty-two. So, it’s been a few years now. I have a confession; I used the money from the joint account to pay for surgery. My insurance wouldn’t cover it. That’s why there’s nothing left from Mom and Dad’s book royalties.”
I wasn’t aware we had a joint account.
“No one told you?”
No.
“Mom and Dad set it up while you were away. I figured someone would have said something. But I shouldn’t have touched your half.”
Why not? I’d have given it to you anyway.
Her soft fingers move on my cheek, feeling over the hint of stubble I haven’t shaved off these last two days.
I need you to be healthy.I lean over and stop the running water before it overflows. Dipping my fingers in, I test the temperature before standing and lifting her into the water.
I’m gonna remove this now,I mouth, tugging the hem up and pulling the garment over her head.
Her hands fly to the lacy bra that covers her full breasts. The pretty pink matches her hair perfectly.
Step out of your shorts. I’ll turn around if I must.It might just kill me, but I’ll do it. I don’t sign the last part.
Her head shakes slowly, and my heart rate kicks up its pace as the pretty bra comes into view.
Her hands lower down her body. My eyes follow, away from the lace and intricate details to the beige stoma bag, which takes up half of her stomach. She freezes there.
You don’t need to hide from me,I mouth. A finger traces her jaw, the feeling of touch still so foreign to me. So exciting, I tingle.
You’re a rare kind of perfect that only exists in all you are, to me. Nothing, no one, will ever compare to you, I mouth slowly, making sure she catches every word.
“Stress has made me bloat, and I look?—”
“Beautiful. You look beautiful,” I manage to whisper.
Without voicing any of the words dancing on her tongue, she shifts her hands. Her thumbs sink into the sides of her shorts, and she pulls them over her hips, letting them slip down her thighs.
My fingers catch them before they hit the water.
Beat, beat, beat, beat.
My heart assaults my ribs, and then beats faster. Harder.
Using my shoulders for support, she steps out one leg at a time, and I peel my fingers away.
“Will you sit in with me?” Tears drop from her jaw as she unclasps her bra.
I nod as she sinks into the water, handing me the pretty lingerie. I roll my sweats before returning to the ledge, but this time, facing the other way, feet below the surface.
“No, in here with me.”
I’m not wearing shorts, remember?
“You rarely do.”
How do you—she’s noticed.
BEAT, BEAT, BEAT, BEAT.
