No One But Me

Chapter 12 - Redemption

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Ten minutes later you are sitting on the bed with your legs extended, wearing a sweater and underwear, your wet hair wrapped in a towel. In an attempt to distract yourself you have started reading the book that was sat on your nightstand, one of several novels on your to read list. You are about to turn the page when you hear the sound of foot steps in your hallway. You freeze at the sound, the familiar feeling of panic seizing your insides.

Joel strides into your bedroom, dressed and wearing his boots, seemingly ready for the day. He's holding a mug in his hand. When you see it is him you quickly lower your head and fix your eyes to the book in your hands, hoping to God that he can't hear the pounding of your heart. You can't bear to look at his face, to see whatever emotion is projecting from his dark brown eyes.

He clears his throat and speaks your name quietly, his voice gravelly but gentle. You don't respond or even move an inch to indicate you have heard him.

"Made ya a cup of your green tea," Joel murmers.

The floorboards creak softly under his heavy footsteps as he sets the mug of tea down on your nightstand. The gesture astounds you - he has never made you tea before - but you remain still, as if you cannot hear him. Truthfully, you are scared stiff by his presence.

Why is he being so nice?

You hate yourself for the tears that begin to pool in your eyes, blurring your vision and obscuring the letters on the page infront of you. The springs in the mattress squeak as Joel sits at the end of your bed with a small sigh. On impulse you bend your knees and pull your legs back, but Joel wraps his hand around on of your ankles and tugs it back towards him. His touch isn't aggressive or forceful but it startles you, causing a brief jolt of fear to rip through your body. He guides your foot to sit on his lap and he begins rubbing your heel in tender circles with his thumb.

"Darlin'," Joel sighs. "Are you okay?"

No, Joel. How could I possibly be okay after what you did?

You remain silent. The tears break free from your eyes and trickle down your cheeks. Your fingers are trembling; you curl them tightly over the corners of the book.

You wonder if he actually cares whether or not you are okay. What is going on with this uncharacteristic gesture of kindness, making you tea and asking if you're okay? Can he sense how broken you are, just how far he crossed over the line, how irreparable the damage is that he caused?

Your nose starts to drip along with the tears that wet your face. You sniff and wipe your nose with the cuff of your sleeve.

"No, I'm not okay," you whisper.

Joel sighs and runs his hand over his face. "Look, I already told Ellie that you're sick and you'll need a few days off work. She's gonna tell Tommy."

It is then that you look up at him with an incredulous expression. "What?"

Joel's eyes look solemn and weary as he stares back at you, his brows knitted together. Why does he look so sad?

"Til the bruises heal." He explains quietly. "Won't be more than a couple days."

You can't stifle the sob that claws up your throat. Oh. Right. That makes sense. How on earth could you explain your face without telling the truth? There's no plausible excuse for the marks on you.

You drop your book onto the mattress and look down at your lap. Your tears flow freely now, the pain of betrayl and your broken heart too profound to suppress. You are sure you look pitiful and weak but you don't care. You drag your sleeve over your face and your snotty nose.