“I’ll get it. Hold on to me and try to relax. I’ll do it.”
I press my head against his chest and tighten my hold around him. I can smell the shampoo as he pours it into his hands and brings the liquid to my hair, spreading it around with his fingertips. He scoots us a step closer until the water touches my head that is pressed into his shoulder. He massages and scrubs my hair, rinsing it repeatedly. I don’t even ask why he keeps rinsing it; I just let him rinse it as many times as he needs to.
Once he’s finished, he turns us around in the shower until he’s under the stream of water and he runs the shampoo through his own hair. I release my hold from around his waist and back away from him, not wanting to feel like there’s anything getting on me again. I look down at my stomach and hands and don’t see any traces of my father left on me. I look back up at Holder and he’s scrubbing his face and neck with a fresh washcloth. I stand there, watching him calmly wash away what happened to us no less than an hour ago.
When he’s finished, he opens his eyes and looks down at me with regret. “Baby, I need you to make sure I got it all, okay? I need you to wipe away anything I missed.”
He’s talking to me so calmly, like he’s trying not to break me. It’s his voice that makes me realize that’s exactly what he’s trying to avoid. He’s afraid I’m about to break, or crack, or flip-out.
I’m scared he might be right, so I take the washcloth out of his hands and force myself to be strong and inspect him. There’s still a small area of blood over his right ear, so I reach the washcloth up and wipe it away. I pull the washcloth back and look down at the last speck of blood left on the two of us, then I run it under the stream of water and watch as it washes away.
“It’s all gone,” I whisper. I’m not even sure I’m referring to the blood.
Holder takes the washcloth out of my hand and tosses it onto the edge of the tub. I look up at him, and his eyes are redder than before and I can’t tell if he’s crying, because the water is running down his face in the same pattern that tears would be if they were even there. It’s then, when all of the physical remnants of my past are washed away, that I’m reminded of Lesslie.
My heart breaks all over again, this time for Holder. A sob breaks out of me and I slap my hand over my mouth, but my shoulders continue to shake. He pulls me to his chest and presses his lips to my hair.
“Holder, I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I’m crying and holding on to him, wishing his hopelessness was as easy to wash away as the blood. He’s holding me so tightly, I can barely breathe. But he needs this. He needs me to feel his pain right now, just like I need for him to feel mine.
I take every single word my father said today and attempt to cry them out of me. I don’t want to remember his face. I don’t want to remember his voice. I don’t want to remember how much I hate him and I especially don’t want to remember how much I loved him. There’s nothing like the guilt you feel when there’s room in your heart to love evil.
Holder moves one of his hands to the back of my head and presses my face into his shoulder. His cheek presses against the top of my head and I can hear him crying now. It’s quiet and he’s trying so hard to hold it in. He’s in so much pain because of what my father did to Lesslie, and I can’t help but place some of that blame on myself. If I had been around, he never would have touched Lesslie and she never would have suffered. If I never would have climbed into that car with Karen, Lesslie might still be alive today.
I curl my hands up behind Holder’s arms and grip his shoulders. I lift my cheek and turn my mouth toward his neck, kissing him softly. “I’m so sorry. He never would have touched her if I…”
Holder grips my arms and pushes me away from him with such force, my eyes widen and I flinch when he speaks. “Don’t you dare say that.” He releases his hold and swiftly brings his hands to my face, gripping me tightly. “I don’t ever want you to apologize for a single thing that man did. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault, Sky. Swear to me you will never let a thought like that consume you ever again.” His eyes are desperate and full of tears.
I nod. “I swear,” I say weakly.
He never looks away, searching my eyes for truth. His reaction has left my heart pounding, shocked at how quick he was to dismiss any fault I may have had. I wish he was just as quick to dismiss his own faults, but he isn’t.
I can’t take the look in his eyes, so I throw my arms around his neck and hug him. He tightens his grip around me and holds me with pained desperation. The truth about Lesslie and the reality of what we both just witnessed hits us both, and we cling to each other with everything we have. We’re both allowing everything to escape through the tears we’re crying in each other’s arms. He’s finished trying to be strong for me. The love he had for Lesslie and the anger he’s feeling over what happened to her are pouring out of him.