Page 140 of Love Bleeds Red
“Looks amazing,” I tell him, as he pulls the most perfect looking roasted chicken out of the oven. All golden brown, like something out of a cooking show. “Where’d you learn how to cook that?”
He lets out a dry laugh. “Mum… It’s my first time, so hopefully we won’t die of salmonella.”
“Doubtful,” I say. “If anything, maybe we’ll have a repeat of the hot wing incident.”
“Never living it down, am I?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
After the day full of legal documents, and questioning, knowing I’m about to sit across from the man I love and eat a meal, something so simple, so pure, makes my heart happier than I could have ever imagined in those dark months of hell. I could get used to this.
CHAPTER FORTY
BAILEY
I’ve lost count of how many entries I’ve written. Time feels weird now… some days drag on forever, others disappear in a blur of legal meetings and flashbacks. Too many days I want to just stay in bed and not get up. I might do just that if it weren’t for Leon.
He keeps asking if I want to talk about what happened. I know he’s trying to help, and maybe one day I’ll tell him everything, but for now, it’s hard enough telling strangers. I guess he’ll find out if he comes to the hearings… I almost hope he won’t.
Lizet’s whole grounding stuff has been helping me more than a lot of what I’ve learned in therapy. I don’t know… I guess having something concrete to do when I start tofreak out helps a hell of a lot more than just yapping on and on about my feelings.
Speaking of feelings… I need to talk about Leon.
Lately I’ve been wanting to be intimate with him again. Or at least try? Is that messed up? That I can go from having nightmares about being touched to wanting Leon to touch me? Sometimes I wonder if my body is broken, if King and every other man who used me, beat me, left me this way… if their mark is a permanent scar?
I wish I could talk to someone about these feelings… This desire… I guess that’s what I’d call it, as cheesy as it sounds.
The other night, when we were kissing in the kitchen, I felt everything almost like I used to, but in a way, it was stronger… deeper. The heat, the need, that familiar ache. For those few minutes, I felt like myself again. But then afterward, I couldn’t stop thinking about whether it was normal to want someone that way after what I’ve been through. Whether Leon would think less of me if he knew how much I still want him, even when I can barely handle a stranger accidentally bumping into me at the grocery store.
He’s been so patient. Too patient, maybe. Sometimes I wish he’d just lose his temper, yell at me for being difficult,give me a reason to push him away. It would be easier than this constant gentleness, this careful way everyone treats me like I might break. Is that what I need?
I know he’d do whatever I ask. That’s who he is—why I fell in love with him in the first place. He takes care of people. I should probably tell him how I’m feeling.
I applied for my old job at Burger Palace today. Joy to the world. Stepping foot in there brought me back to high school.
Leon thinks it’s too soon. I saw it in his face when I told him, even if he didn’t say it. Maybe it is too soon. But I need to feel like I can do normal things again. I need to feel like me. And hey, if I do okay here, maybe I can think about going back to school soon.
I start tonight. I didn’t tell him I’m planning to drive myself in. He’ll worry, and he’s done enough of that for a lifetime.
I closethe journal and slip it back under my pillow just as someone knocks on my bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Leon pokes his head inside. His hair is messy from sleep and light stubble shadows his jawline. “Morning, beautiful. You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I stretch and pat the side of my bed. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight.” He lays next to me, pulling my back against his chest. I hum, feeling instantly contented, especially as he folds his hands over my stomach and rubs gentle circles. “Why couldn’t you sleep? Everything okay?”
And there is it, the question him and everyone else loves to ask. I know what he means. Are you having flashbacks, or is it panic attacks? Do you need me to call someone?I should appreciate how much he cares, but sometimes it makes me feel like a patient instead of a girlfriend.
“I’m fine. Just thinking about work tonight.”
“Right. Your first shift back.” His hands still. “How are you feeling about it?”
“Good. Ready.” I force happiness into my tone. “It’ll be nice to have something to do besides sit around here or at all those stuffy offices.”
He nods against my head. “That guy still the manager? The dude who smokes way too much weed?”
