Page 23 of Marks of Rebellion
I kiss the top of her head, and she buries her face into my chest. "Can we keep going, please?" She asks so quietly I barely hear her.
"Sure."
It only takes a few minutes to get to the river. I set her down on a tree trunk.
"Can I please see your wounds?"
She wipes her face and looks away.
I touch her cheek, and she recoils. I freeze.
What did they do to her?
I'm not sure what to say, and sorry seems like overkill at this point, so I wait for her to speak.
"Can I show you after I wash up?" she asks.
"Of course."
"Will you let me have a few minutes to myself? I... I just need a..." She lets out a big breath.
Is she okay?
Of course she isn't. She's been traumatized in so many ways.
I hesitate but then force a smile. "Sure." I take the flip-flops out of my bag and place them by her feet. "I'm going in the river. Take as much time as you need."
I'm totally screwing this up.
This? What is this?
She doesn't owe me anything. Last night doesn't mean she wants anything more.
Don't think about it. Just concentrate on what's happening with her right now.
I pull my toiletries pouch out of my bag and strip down. I peek over at her, and she has her hand over her face.
An internal pain that I've never felt before seeps into my bones.
She's in such agony.
I don't know how to stop it. I take a step toward her but stop.
She asked me to give her space.
Go wash up, and if she's still there when I'm done, then I can go to her.
As hard as it is, I go into the water and wash my hair and body. When I finish, I stare across the river, wondering how to approach her when I feel her lips on my back and hands wrap around my waist.
Slowly, I turn to her.
She scrunches her face. It's red, as if she's embarrassed or guilty. "I'm sorry. I... I—"
I put my finger over her lips.
"Don't ever say you're sorry to me. You have nothing to apologize for."
"I do."
