Page 7 of Ripped

Donnie flinches and shakes his head in a jerking motion. “Never mind. Pretend I didn’t ask that. Wash your face—or you can take a shower if you’d like. These pajamas are clean and I think should fit you. Come back downstairs when you’re ready.”

He squeezes past me and I get a whiff of something woodsy and citrusy. I follow it to Donnie at the bathroom door. He’s got the doorknob in his hand and he’s pulling it shut. I almost stop him so I can take in a little more of that comforting scent.

He closes the door, and I lean my forehead against it. God, I’m tired. I want to curl up in a ball, bury my nose in the crook of Donnie’s neck, and fall asleep breathing him in. It’s the only thing that makes any sense—Donnie, his hugs, his scent—everything else feels like one fucked up nightmare that I desperately want to wake up from.

I push away from the door and turn on the faucet to splash water on my face. It’s cold and the shock of it jolts me back into my body. I can feel how swollen my eyes are, how raw my throat is. The headache throbs even stronger and the room looks like it spinning.

I splash my face a few more times before turning the water off. I’m more awake now, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Maybe being a zombie is better than being able to catalog every single thing that’s wrong.

The PJs are soft, though they smell a little like mothballs. Donnie must’ve pulled them out of a bottom drawer somewhere. They fit me, almost like they were bought for me, and I’m immediately warmer after I put them on. The socks are thick and fluffy and feel like heaven on my feet.

Donnie’s pulling the tray out of the oven when I get back down to the kitchen. Whatever he’s made smells amazing and my stomach growls in anticipation. I still don’t really feel like eating, but my body apparently has ideas of its own.

“Go ahead and sit down.” Donnie nods toward a table by the window.

It’s dark outside and the light from the kitchen reflects off the glass. The table already has two place settings laid out and I drop into the chair in front of one. God, I’m so tired.

“You’re crashing.” Donnie sets a plate down in front of me.

There’s a pale pink slice of salmon, stalks of asparagus, and chunks of zucchini and tomatoes. It looks like something off an Instagram reel.

“Huh?” I blink at Donnie.

“You’ve been running on adrenaline for the past couple hours, and now you’re crashing.”

“Oh.” That makes a lot of sense actually. I kinda want to sleep for a week.

“Eat as much as you can, and then we’ll get you to bed.”

I pick up the fork and it clatters against the plate. If Donnie notices, he doesn’t say anything. I grip the fork harder, but that only makes the shaking worse. I manage to stab a piece of zucchini and shove it into my mouth. My tastebuds register that it tastes good. My stomach rumbles in appreciation. I force myself to take another bite.

What are Miles and Wyatt eating? Are they helping themselves to my tacos? Are they watching Drag Race without me? I choke on a flake of salmon that wants to go down the wrong way.

Donnie hands me the glass of water I didn’t notice was sitting right there. “Take it easy. Just a little at a time.”

“It’s Miles and Wyatt.” The words slip out of my mouth and I hear them like I’m listening to the conversation from the other side of the room.

“Who?”

“Boyfriend and best friend.” I frown. “Ex-boyfriend. Ex-best friend.”

“What did they do?”

“They’re fucking. Each other.” My chest hurts. It feels like there’s a boulder sitting on it.

Donnie winces. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” My voice is tight. I’m not breathing. “Me too.”

“You just found out?”

I nod. “When I got ho—back to the apartment.”

Donnie’s hand closes over mine and I grip it hard. It’s my lifeline, my tether. I’m drifting and it’s the only thing keeping me here, keeping me sane.

“You’re here now. You’re at my house, with me. You can stay here for as long as you want. You don’t have to go back there.”

I’m here. With Donnie. He’s going to let me stay. I’m safe here. Nothing bad can happen to me while I’m here.

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