Page 95 of Jump or Fall
She felt Gordon’s warm hand on her back.
“How can you even look at me?” she sobbed. “How can you want something so broken?”
“Mara, you’re still beautiful, and you aren’t broken.”
She sucked in a ragged breath, and he continued, “You know, I could ask the same. I can’t even move part of my face. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a pretty big fucking scar.”
“I like the crooked smile. It’s cute.”
He turned her toward him and enveloped her in his arms. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
“It’s true,” she croaked. “I could barely walk to the bathroom without bumping into anything. How am I ever going to do anything useful?”
I can’t even fuck like a normal person.
“Mara, it will get better.”
She wanted to believe that was true. Wanted to believe that she was still worth something.
“Will you shower with me?” she asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course.” He turned the shower on, running the hot water over his hand to test the temperature.
Mara stripped off her clothes and took his hand so she wouldn’t trip on the ledge.
The cascade cleansed her of the previous day. The pain and humiliation. Her muscles gradually relaxed with each drop colliding with her skin.
Gordon put a drop of her shampoo in his hands and gently massaged it into her hair.
She rinsed it out, and next he ran a soapy cloth over her shoulders and down her back. The heavy coconut scent of her soap was an extra comfort as it washed everything away.
Old flakes of dried blood swirled around the drain and disappeared. Her old life going with it.
Everything is different. I don’t have to go back.
While holding her hand out, he ran the cloth across the length of her arm and repeated on the other side. He reached forward and gently swept the cloth over her chest and down to her stomach. He was careful around her breasts, trying not to make it a sexual gesture.
He had been keeping his distance and standing at an odd angle. The reason became evident when he brushed against her lower back.
At least, he still found her body appealing.
“Just ignore that,” he said, clearing his throat.
Mara stepped back, pressing him flush against her skin.
He lowered the cloth to her hip. “Mara, you need rest.” The restraint in his voice made her want him even more.
“We’ll go slow.”
She took the cloth and dropped it to the floor. Then she directed his hand between her legs. Keeping her hand on his, she manipulated his fingers until she found a rhythm she liked.
“You like using my hand?” he asked, his face pressed into her hair as he gently rocked against her back.
“Yes,” she said softly.
The tiles begged her to be counted, so she closed her eye. Dripping water called for her attention, but she wouldn’t give in. Gordon’s voice was her tether, keeping her from drifting away.
Someday, I’ll be normal.
