The only sign that she’s still crying are the tears sneaking from her eyes. She keeps her eyes trained on the water, an empty look on her face. I wash her whole body, except for her breasts, ass and between her legs. I’m not crossing that line. I’m careful around the clips and then rinse her body off.
“Lie back,” I whisper. She listens and, taking hold of either side of the bath she slides down.
I quickly wet her hair and then squirt some shampoo into my hand. I wash her hair and then rinse it off before helping her back up. I pull the plug and then grab a towel.
“Get out,” I whisper.
She steps out of the bath and as she steps into the towel I’m holding open, she looks down at the floor. I wrap it around her and then grab another. I dry her hair, looking down at her. The desolate look on her face yanks at my heart.
I pull her into my arms and just hold her for a while.
“You know what sucks?” she whispers in a forlorn tone.
“No, tell me,” I encourage her to open up to me.
She presses herself closer to me and then whispers, “It’s not only being stuck in the darkest of holes, while the rest of the world is standing in the sun. It’s not only when you feel the cruel bite of loneliness, while you’re surrounded by people. It’s not only when you’re so tired to the bone, while all you do is sleep.” Her voice cracks but she forces the words out, “It’s like a fucking cancer eating away at my soul. It’s devouring every sliver of light.”
My arms tighten around her and I search for the right words to tell her, but I can’t find any.
Cara~
The doctor is old and there’s a moment I worry that he won’t be able to see the clips. But luckily he sees just fine at his high age and he removes them quickly.
“It’s healing nicely, Mrs. Jackson. Just keep cleaning it for a while longer. Come see me if it starts to itch or turns tender and red,” the doctor says.
“Okay,” I whisper as I sit up, pulling my shirt down. “Thank you.” I give him an awkward smile and then leave the room.
When I walk into the tiny reception, Damian gets up immediately. “Thank you,” he says to the receptionist and then he takes my hand.
“Enjoy your day, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson,” the receptionist calls out cheerfully.
I was surprised when Damian gave the name Nina Jackson for me. When we get in the car I glance at him. “You got me a new identity too?”
He steers the car back onto the main road before he says, “Yeah, I always have an emergency plan. We need to practice the new names. We don’t want to slip up in public. You have to call me Alex and I’ll call you Nina.”
“So we’re married … again?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yeah.” His eyes flit to mine before he continues, “We look nothing alike and wouldn’t pull off the brother and sister thing. I thought it would be safer to just make us a married couple.”
“Oh.” I slump back against the seat, not sure how I feel about it. “So … do we have a real marriage certificate?”
“As real as our I.D. cards,” he says. I’m surprised when he doesn’t turn back onto the road that leads to the cabin, but instead drives past it.
I let the subject of our fake marriage go for now. “Where are we going?”
“I want to show you something,” he says.
We sit in silence until he pulls the car into an empty parking area. He gets out, walks around the car, and opens my door. With no other choice left, I get out, my shoulders slumping. I’d rather go back to bed.
“Come on,” he whispers. He takes my hand and pulls me across the parking area.
We get to a stairway carved out of rock, and halfway down I have to stop. “I just need a minute,” I say, breathing heavily. Sweat is beading on my forehead and I’m exhausted.
Damian patiently waits until I regain some of my strength before we climb the rest down. We get to a beach where waves are rolling in lazily.
Damian pulls me all the way to the water and then kneels in front of me. He slips my shoes off and rolls my pants up to my knees, before he does the same with his jeans.
We step into the cold water and I give him a look, silently asking what now?
He looks out towards the horizon and starts to whisper, “I know you feel lost in an ocean of pain but just for a minute I want you to focus on what I say.”
I feel uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is heading in so I look out to the ocean as well.
“Do you feel the cold water lapping at your legs?”
I frown but answer anyway, “Yeah.”
“That means you have legs to be grateful for. You can walk.”
I sigh and brush some of my hair back.
“Do you feel that breeze?”
I give him a look.“Really? You’re going to ask me a bunch of questions?”
“Do you feel the sun on your face?”
I don’t answer him and pull my hand free from his.
“Do you see the blue of the ocean?”
I turn around to walk back to the car when he snaps angrily, “Because there are hundreds of people who would’ve given anything to see it one last time. There are many who would’ve done anything to take just one more step.”