Then I returned to the bedroom. “It’s ready.”
He slowly got out of bed, taking it one step at a time. He let his feet rest against the rug for a moment before he stood, wincing slightly at the movement. Then he was still, testing his own strength, before he started to walk.
I held his arm as I walked him into the bathroom. I took off the binder around his ribs and then grabbed his boxers and pulled them off, ignoring his nakedness like it was inappropriate to look.
He stepped into the tub then slowly lowered himself, using the handle on the side to get into the water. The water immediately rose as his body displaced the volume, and his neck settled onto the stack of towels. He closed his eyes and sighed, like he was comfortable.
I grabbed the shampoo and squirted it into my hands before I rubbed my fingers into his hair, washing away all the oil that had collected throughout the week.
He kept his eyes closed, comfortable like he enjoyed it.
I poured the water over his head and down the back of his neck, washing away all the suds. Then I grabbed a loofah and started to rub his injured parts, cleaning his neck, his shoulders his chest.
He opened his eyes and looked at me.
I sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing the wet loofah under the water to gently clean him, barely using any pressure because his body was a nightmare of bruises, cuts, and broken bones. It was hard to look at him, and sometimes I didn’t, but I couldn’t do it forever, not when it would take him a long time to look normal again.
I grabbed the face wash and handed it to him.
He squirted it into his hands and gently rubbed his face, lightly tracing the swelling and bruises. Then he splashed water on his face, washing everything away. He relaxed back against the towels then watched me, his hand rising out of the water and moving to mine. He just stared at me, like that was all he wanted to do. His blue eyes weren’t swollen shut anymore, so the beautiful color of his gaze was easy to see. He’d improved a bit, his face not so red and purple, but it would still be a long time before he wouldn’t need painkillers anymore.
I dropped my gaze, not wanting to think about the terrible things my brother had done to him.
He squeezed my hand, silently demanding my attention.
I looked at him again, sighing in pain. “I’m so sorry…” Out of nowhere, I burst into tears. I closed my eyes as I tried to control the tears before they escaped my closed eyelids, but there were so many of them that I couldn’t stop them. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—”
“Shh…” His palm moved to my cheek, his thumb catching some of my tears. “Baby, look at me.”
I refused to open my eyes.
“Don’t make me ask you again.” His strong voice sounded the way it used to, like his feelings for me hadn’t changed at all. Like he hadn’t changed at all.
I opened my eyes again, releasing a shaky breath.
“The bruises and scars will fade. I’ll defeat this—like I’ve defeated everything else. So, don’t feel bad for me. Don’t look at me like I’m weak. Because I’m still the strongest man you’ve ever met…and you’ll see that again soon enough.” His fingers slid down my face to my neck, where he squeezed me gently.
“But I did this to you…”
“You didn’t do anything,” he whispered. “Now I’ve paid for my sins, accepted my punishment for my crimes…and we can move on.” His hand moved back to mine on the tile, his fingers interlocking with mine. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”
I put the pills on the nightstand along with a glass of water.
He propped himself on one arm, which was a lot of movement for him since he’d been lying still all week, and he popped them into his mouth and swallowed with a splash of water. He lay down again. “Where have you been sleeping?”
“The couch.”
He turned to the other side of the bed and pulled down the covers. “Sleep with me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
“Why?” He stared up at me from his position on the bed, his head on the pillow.
“I don’t want to hurt you. You know, accidentally roll onto your arm or kick you…stuff like that.”
“No offense, baby. But you just don’t weigh enough to inflict any damage.” He patted the spot beside him. “And I’d sleep a lot better with you next to me.”
I didn’t want to deny him what he wanted, so I closed up the house, turned off all the lights, and then got into bed beside him. It was so nice to sleep in a bed again, the bed I used to sleep in all the time. The mattress was exactly as I remembered it, the sheets so soft. My head fell onto the soft pillow, and I turned to him, the covers pulled to my shoulder.
He stayed on his back but turned his head my way, like lying on his side was too much for him because of the injuries to his abdomen. But he reached out his hand to me, his fingers resting on mine. Then he stared at me, gazed at me with heavy eyes, like he was fighting the pain medication to stay awake, to continue to look at me. “When I saw your face, I thought I was hallucinating…”
I’d thought I was hallucinating too.
“And when I heard your voice, I thought I’d already died and gone to heaven…which didn’t make sense because there’s no way I’d ever make it through the gates unless I broke in. But your voice…it could only belong to an angel.”
My fingers gave his a gentle squeeze.
“What changed your mind?”
There was nothing
