it absorbs my sobs. This is so ridiculous. Everything about my life now is even more preposterous and laughable than it was three years ago. I have nothing and no one and no hope, and the only person who knows or cares where I am keeps gouging open a wound I thought had healed.
“Hey.”
I squawk and lose my footing, dangling from the rod like a lame acrobat until I find my balance. I see Chris silhouetted on the other side of the curtain, making no move to peer behind it. He may be a liar and a kidnapper and probably something more sinister, but a Peeping Tom he is not.
“What are you doing in here?” I demand, my voice shrill.
“Bringing you a towel. What do you want to wear? Pajamas? What do you sleep in?”
I’ve fucked this man. Had dinner with him. Watched a puppet show. And he doesn’t know what I like on my pizza or what my pajamas look like. I’m hesitant to say I deserve this, but I could have done things differently.
“Get me sweatpants and a T-shirt.” I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “They’re in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Underwear in the top. Don’t choose anything sexy.”
“Aye-aye. Pizza’s on the way.”
I wait until I see his shadow disappear, the door softly thudding shut, though I don’t know why he bothers since it doesn’t lock and he’s coming right back. Perhaps it’s just an ingrained sense of Montana decency. Assuming he’s even from Montana.
He brought in shampoo, conditioner, and a bar of soap from my en suite, and after some fumbling I manage to get my hair lathered up.
“Hey,” I call, when I hear Chris come back.
“What?”
“Are you really from Montana?”
“I am.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and rinse my hair, and when I emerge from under the water he’s gone again. The six minutes probably work out to be more like twelve, and I’m pretty sure it was the tears that bought me the extra time. Whatever. I’ll take what I can get. Which, now that I’m standing, shivering, cuffed to the rod and without hot water to keep me warm, is not much.
He’d placed the towel and clothes on the toilet, but when I try to pick up the towel with my foot, my leg the only limb long enough to reach, all I succeed in doing is knocking everything to the floor. I yank the shower curtain closed again.
“Chris.”
Silence.
“Chris?”
“What?”
I jump. He’s on the other side of the door.
“I can’t reach the towel.”
“I put it on the toilet.”
“I know. It fell.”
I hear the door swing open but he doesn’t enter.
“What?” I demand when nothing else happens. I’m cold and handcuffed and naked and somehow his inaction manages to make a terrible situation exponentially more annoying.
“What are you doing?” he calls. His voice is distant enough that I can tell he’s still at the doorway.
“Freezing to death,” I snap. “Can you pass me the towel?”
No movement.
I roll my eyes. “Please?”
“Show me your other hand.”
“What? I—Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I stick my other hand up over the rod and extend my middle finger. “Satisfied? Do you feel safe?”
His shadow approaches and dips, then he folds my fingers around the towel. I yank it over and dry off as best I can, but it’s difficult to wrap a towel tightly around your head with one hand. I know Chris is waiting on the other side, probably to pass me my clothes, and I sigh and give up. My hair is as dry as it’s going to get, so I stick out a hand and ask for underwear. He gives me a plain gray cotton pair, and I awkwardly pull them on, my feet slipping on the porcelain. The fabric sticks to the rivulets of water trailing down my skin.
“Bra,” I say, then hesitate.
I feel the scratch of lace against my fingers as he passes it to me. There’s no way to get it on with my hand shackled to the rod.
“How—” I begin.
He sighs and I see him grip the side of the curtain.
“Don’t come in!”
He stops. “I’ve already seen it, Reese.”
“That was different. This is different. Everything’s different.”
“The only difference is nobody’s lying.”
“It’s still different and I’m still handcuffed, genius. Just undo the cuffs. What could I possibly do in the fucking shower? Blind you with shampoo? It’s designed not to do that.” It’s true. I’d read the back of the bottle with some hope.