Page 54 of Unwell
‘Thank you for helping me,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’
And then she kissed me.
Under the falling water, her mouth was soft but insistent. The sensation injected fire into my veins. Soap and salt clung to her lips. The taste of the forbidden.
For a moment, I let myself fall into the sweet idea of us. Perhaps we would raise the baby together as lovers. To the outside world, we’d just be friends helping each other. But behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, what if we were more? God help me, I needed the softness as much as she did. Something to mask all the ruin I’d seen. My hands cupped her wet face, then slid down her arms, pulling her closer until the swell of her belly pressed hard against me.
Her lips parted as she moaned, and heat rushed through me.
But shame rose in an overwhelming wave.
I broke away, gasping against her mouth. My heart hammered as I pressed my forehead to hers, the water streaming down both our faces.
‘Who are you?’ I whispered.
Her lashes flickered open, confusion on her face. ‘Ginny.’
‘But why are youhere? Did Robert make you come?’
‘No…’ She shook her head and ran a finger over my lower lip as she spoke. ‘Mama said I couldn’t live on the farm no more.’
‘Why not?’
Her eyes clouded. ‘Not after what I did.’
‘What did you do?’ A chill slid down my spine.
She only stared at me. It was as if someone snuffed out the light in her eyes. The sudden detachment made me shudder.
‘Ginny,’ I pressed, harsher. ‘What did you do?’
‘You saidmy babyearlier. It’s not your baby. She’s mine.’ While she whispered the words, they hit me like a scythe.
My throat closed up.
‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I stammered. ‘You just killed my husband, and I framed Larry for it because I wanted to protect you.’
‘It was never about me though, was it?’ She grasped her stomach protectively and narrowed her eyes.
Then she went still, shutting down like a doll placed back on its shelf.
Without a word, she rose and stepped out of the spray. She lay down on a rusted bench against the far wall, curling onto her side.
She turned her face to the tiles.
And she didn’t speak again.
THIRTY-TWO
GINNY
Icouldn’t wait any longer.
Nancy had abandoned me, just like everyone else. Even she wanted my baby. It was like the only part of me that was worthwhile was my womb.
‘They’ll strap me down,’ I whispered to my bump, my palm pressed hard over the swell as I crept through the corridor. I’d itched all day to get away, but there had been too much activity after the doctor died. The dead of night had finally afforded me enough quiet to slip out of my ward. ‘They’ll cut you out and take you. I can’t let them. I won’t.’
The crochet hook was cold against my palm. Nobody had noticed it gone. My secret weapon.
