The Good Wife

31



I press my head against the door, listening to her sob inside the bathroom.  My heart breaks as every minute passes by. 

Oh, Amber, I wish I could soak your sorrows into my soul. 

"Amber." I knock on the door gently. 

She gasps, clearing her throat, "Yeah?" 

"Can I come in?" 

"Hhmm." 

Immediately I push open the door, stepping in. She was sitting under the shower, crying like a lost little child. I kneel near her, pulling her in my arms as she trembles. 

"Calm down, baby. Please calm down." I whisper, nuzzling her neck as her hold on me tightens. 

"I-I wanted this dress to be ripped tonight," she whispers. 

"But by you, not. . ." she trails off, crying bitterly. 

"Oh, baby." I sigh.

I'm so sorry, my love. I failed to protect you. I will never be able to forgive myself for tonight. 

"I'm tired of being hurt, I'm tired of crying, I'm just so tired." she gasps. 

"I thought he would hurt me today, he was so close. I was scared," she mumbles, looking up at me with red, teary eyes. 

I cup her cheeks, caressing them with my thumb. Amber sniffles, looking at me through her lashes. 

"I won't let the monsters get to you ever again, I promise," I whisper. 

"Pinky?" she questions, causing me to chuckle.

"Pinky." I nod, hooking her pinky with mine. 

"I'm so sorry for today, my love," I say, undoing the straps of her dress. 

The silk easily slips off her beautiful skin. Amber curls into my embrace, clutching onto my shoulders. I pull her to her feet, adjusting the shower towards us. She begins rubbing her cleavage violently before she scratches her lips. 

"Hey! Hey." I grab her hands, pull them away from her face. 

"Don't hurt yourself, baby." 

"I want to be clean," she stifles a sob. 

"You are clean." I press a kiss against her forehead. 

Scooping some body wash in my hands, I run them down her body. I keep looking into her troubled eyes, as my hands massage every curve she has. Picking her up, I take her to bed. She looks at me silently as I pick up a shirt of mine, sliding it on her. 

Once she is settled, I allow myself to look down at her body. There were harsh hand prints on her inner thighs and bite marks on her cleavage. Pushing the covers on her, I sit by her side, caressing her hair. 

"You won't get in?" she questions, rubbing her eyes. 

"I have some things to take care of, love." 

"Arles." 

"Hhmm." I hum, caressing her hair. 

"I like you," she whispers. 

"I like you too," I smile down at her. 

She lets out a little yawn, clutching onto my arm as she closes her eyes. 

"Thank you for saving me today. I'm not used to people rescuing me," she mumbles, digging her face into the pillow.