Redesigning Fate (Revive #1) - A. M. Wilson Page 0,121
story to the wall, giving myself a veil of anonymity even though he was beside me the whole time.
My stomach bottoms out at what I find.
His eyes are shining with unshed tears. His cheeks are flushed and red, his mouth a tight, colorless line. A muscle twitches in his jaw, probably from how tight he’s clenching his teeth. My eyes brim with tears when I see the emotion covering his features even though he’s trying to hold it back.
His strong hand comes up to brush a fallen tear away, and he wraps me in his arms, whispering how much he loves me and how much he needs me over and over again. Together, with energy depleted, we drift to sleep.
A bright light filters through the window as I peel my eyelids open. I reach out my arm beside me and come up empty. I am alone. Gently, I lift my sore body out of bed and pad over to the bathroom to clean up. I’ve been avoiding mirrors since my rescue, and a week later, I’m still looking rough. Green and yellow splotches cover my face, and still healing cuts mar my skin. My eyes drift down to the stitched wound on my throat where Travis had used his knife on me, the only cut that needed to be sewn back together. The only one that will most likely scar besides my missing spleen.
For a long while, maybe the rest of my life, I will publicly have to carry the evidence of his abuse. The crooked, swollen line is forever a reminder of my past. The very past I want to escape. I can’t decide if mental scars are worse than physical scars. I have both, but at least I can hide the mental ones.
Before I know it, I’m sinking down to my knees and shrinking my body into a tight ball. The images from those nights flash through my mind like a highlight reel. I’m squeezing my eyes so tightly I bring on a headache, but nothing stops the onslaught of vivid images. My body shakes violently, and I rotate it just in time to vomit into the open toilet.
“Stop, stop, stop!” The scream tears from my throat at an alarming decibel, leaving my throat raw as if it clawed its way out, and I collapse on the ground.
The door to the bedroom slams open, and Elias comes rushing in, breathing heavily. I’m pulled back into his arms, and I don’t fight it. I let myself go, because I need the embrace.
“Marlena, what’s going on?” DJ asks while Elias rocks me back and forth.
“I’m s-sorry I’m so w-weak.” Another flood of tears stream down my cheeks.
DJ crouches down in front of me and lays a giant hand against my head. “You have nothing to apologize for. What you went through was incredibly traumatic, and nobody expects you to be strong right now. You were strong while you endured it. Now let us be strong for you.”
His words touch me. Maybe because I’d spent most of my life without him being a brother to me, or maybe because I’m already in a fragile emotional state. Whatever the reason, I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me.
“Thank you for coming back to me,” I tell him in a hoarse whisper.
DJ’s body trembles slightly beneath my grasp. “I won’t leave you again.”
We sit in our strange embrace until my body relaxes and the tears run dry. DJ stands first and carefully helps me to my feet. When we make it to the living room, Elias situates me on the couch while DJ brings me a bowl of chicken noodle soup he bought earlier from the deli down the street. The aroma of the warm broth reminds me how starved I am. My appetite hasn’t exactly returned since I came back. Every time I picture Travis, I feel sick. However, with the steady stream of support, I feel like this may be a turning point for me. Not every day is going to be easy, but I’ll get there. With Elias and my brother, I’ll get there.
Elias settles himself at my feet and massages my calves while I eat. The room is silent, each one of us lost to our own thoughts. I’m sure the experience has been just as eye opening to them as it is to me. I’m beginning to realize how incredibly lucky I am. My life hasn’t always been easy, but I’ve