Page 225 of If By Chance

I stumble against the glass as I pull my clothes off.

I hate feeling like I’m not in my head.

But the shower is warm when I step inside.

So, I stand under the sprays, and I don’t move.

I don’t think I can.

My arms are heavy.

I simply make the water hotter so I can make sure I’m alive.

I feel it.

I think.

“Claire,” my name echoes in the steam. He opens the shower door and I hardly notice how naked I am. “Baby,” he whispers, and I hate how desperate it sounds. He brushes a hand through his hair before scrubbing it over his face.

I stand still as I watch him shed his clothes and step inside with me.

He enters the fog.

I’m not alone.

You’re safe with me.

I go lax against his body because my legs can’t support me anymore. Pulling me into his arms, he sits on the shower ledge. “I’ve got you, baby.”

His fingers massage shampoo into my hair.

It feels amazing.

He washes it out and kneads spasmed muscles until they ease.

When we’re done, he dries me off with a towel.

I let him because I don’t think I can move.

I’m trapped.

Over his head, I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

I think it’s me.

Wet hair dripping, the droplets cascade over black and purple skin. My jaw is swollen. I press a finger to my wrist.

There’s a pulse, but my eyes look lifeless.

I touch the tender skin on my neck.

Please, Papa.

When he sees me doing it, he gently removes my hand and replaces it with healing lips.

He kisses away the monster’s touch because his touch is the only one.

In the bedroom, he dresses me in clean pajamas.

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