Page 127 of Unspoken Lies
Giving her an unamused look, I cross my arms and turn around.
“We want to be able to help too. You’ve been hiding from us and it doesn’t help us to get to know you or what you need,” I grumble, listening to her as she undresses.
There’s hissing and cursing as she does it, and it makes me frown harder. Unless there’s a murder scene in her panties, this is excessive. I finally hear her get into the shower and turn around. There’s no evidence of the toilet paper that she talked about, but I lean down to pick up the clothes she left on the floor since there’s not a hamper in here.
“What if…” Rachelle’s voice cracks and I look toward the glass shower door which is quickly steaming up from the hot water. Fuck, I will get in with her if she starts to cry. Taking a deep breath, she tries again but her voice is still hoarse. “My life isn’t very stable. I’m constantly having to pivot, and I’m really fucking tired of it all. My new medication takes a while to kick in, which means the world feels really aggressive right now. Everything is overwhelming. I’ve hit my limit of new things.”
She isolates. I know that’s one of her coping mechanisms, which is why I pushed her to study at the school. Unfortunately, Elijah also chose that as his time to apologize badly to her. He told me about the tower, but the shadows in his eyes also said something more happened.
There’s no real sharp objects in this bathroom, however, he took her up to the tower which means she could have scared the shit out of him in other ways. Whatever happened ensured that she started to hide from us.
I don’t like it. I understand there’s been a lot of change, but I want to be a person she turns to when she feels overwhelmed. I thought maybe we were getting closer to that. I’m sorry to say that I’m not.
“You can’t lay under the covers alone and cry,” I say finally. “If you feel shitty, come do it with us. We’re good cuddlers. While I’m jealous, I also understand that you miss Liliana andIgnacio. I hope for you that they’re done soon with their work for Mr. Reyes.”
The selfish part of me wishes for at least another week.
Rachelle sniffles as she showers, and I force myself to leave the bathroom to pull out pajamas and panties that are high waisted. I can see why she thinks they’re not sexy. They obviously are comfort panties. There’s not a damn thing wrong with that.
“Hey,” Elijah says, stepping into the room. His eyes move to the shower worriedly, but I don’t think he can hear her crying from here. I think she needs to get it out of her system. She feels sorry for herself. “I bought everything I could think of. How is she?”
“She got her period while you were gone, and the pain seems to be ramping up. She’s a little weepy,” I say.
“If I had a uterus that was rioting, I probably would be too,” he mutters. “I looked up a video just to see what the pain can be like. They hooked a guy up to a TENS unit and he was screaming at the lower levels of the electrical currents. Women are fucking superheroes.”
“Fuck,” I whisper, glancing at the bathroom as I grab the bag and the pajamas. It’s probably better for her to just change in there. “Can you make sure Theo has the electric blanket hooked up?”
“Yes,” he says worriedly. “I’ll go now.”
As the shower turns off, I stride toward the room to help her. Piling the clothes and bag on the counter, I snag a couple of towels for her.
“Come on out, wife. I’ll dry you off,” I tell her.
“It’s weird when you take care of me,” she sighs, stepping out onto the bath mat.
Ignoring her, I rub the fluffy towel over her skin, thoroughly drying her off. Shoulders, back, her breasts, and then drop to my knees to get the rest of her.
“I guess I’ll have to do it more often until it no longer is,” I say simply.
“Tampon or pad?” I ask her.
Rachelle gazes down at me for a moment in silence before sighing. “Pad please. You look like you’d be willing to insert a tampon for me if I let you, which I’m not,” she mutters.
Smirking because I would absolutely try my hand at it, I reach up and grab a package of sanitary pads and her panties. I try not to look surprised by how big the pad is as I unwrap it. I’m beginning to get concerned that she may be preparing to bleed out on me. No wonder she’s in so much pain.
Placing the pad in her panties and fixing it perfectly, I hold it in front of her to step into. Rachelle blushes as she allows me to dress her, while I’m simply glad she’s not fighting me on this.
I want to do all the awkward things that a husband takes in stride until they’re no longer odd for her. This is exposure therapy taken to a new level. I don’t do things half assed. Swimming, school, a business, or being her husband.
I need to be the best at all of this. I’m a competitive fucking person.
“I’m not going to tell you that I can dress myself,” she says, watching me. There’s not a trace of amusement in her face, just wonder. “You’re doing a really good job, even though I’m starting to get cold.”
Smirking, I spend an inordinate amount of time on her pants while I kneel in front of her. Rachelle’s breasts are gorgeous, it’s a shame to have to cover them up. The more I stare, the tighter her nipples get which is also fun. Kissing her stomach, I wrap my arms around her waist and lay my head on it.
“You’re comfy, though,” I tease her before standing to rummage through the bag on the counter to find the pain pills for her. “Elijah picked up something for you. Don’t be a martyr. If it hurts, take it.”
Making a face as she runs her fingers over her lower torso, she nods. “Can I have a shirt now, husband?” she sasses.
