Stella and the Boxer

Chapter 11

My eyes finally bolt open. I had pushed myself up slightly on my arms, when I tried to move from Charlie’s chest, but being hit causes me to fall back to the bed. My head is turned in the opposite direction from where Charlie lies, but from the stillness, I can tell that he’s woken himself up.

“Stella,” he whispers, his voice is so strained.

I need to act like I’m asleep. I think to myself. If he knows that he’s hit me, he won’t forgive himself, and I know that he didn’t mean it.

I know that he didn’t mean it.

I know that I’m safe.

I feel proud of myself, saying those words. Well, for thinking them. And I honestly do intend to act like he didn’t wake me – to tell him in the morning that he must have just hit a pillow or something, because I slept peacefully through the whole night.

When he starts to gently move my shoulder though, I know that my plan has already failed.

I am lying on my side, and I turn my head to look up at Charlie, who is now hovering above me with panicked eyes.  

“What is it?” I ask, still determined to pretend like it didn’t happen, only for his sake. I lift my hand to hold the side of his face in my palm.

“Stella, I hit you. Didn’t you feel me hit you?”

He scrunches his eyes shut. I can see how upset he is with himself.

“Charlie, stop.”

I speak firmly, sitting up and turning my entire body around to face him finally. I’ve taken my hand from his face, and now both of my palms rest on his shoulders. “You didn’t even hit me hard enough to wake me completely.”

He is frowning at me now, but his eyes aren’t on mine. He is fixated on my cheek that has been mostly hidden from him until now.

“Stella, your face is red. I hit you hard!”

He isn’t crying, but his deep, usually smooth voice breaks like he is in physical pain, and I feel so helpless.

I sigh and get up from the bed, leaving Charlie for a moment. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the light. I need to see for myself.

I wish he could understand what it means – to have this happen and for me not to feel the slightest bit afraid. I wish he knew how safe I feel with him, because I know that his intentions are good, and I know that he’ll never hurt me badly or deliberately.

I stand in front of the mirror above the sink and examine my cheek. It is quite red, and it may bruise slightly. I notice that the redness comes close to my eye, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the skin under my eye is slightly swollen tomorrow.  

I hope not though, because I can’t really cover up swelling, and Charlie will go insane if he sees it.

I don’t even remember really feeling any pain when it happened, but as I bring my hand to my cheek, I flinch a little at the soreness.

I slowly and quietly reach for my makeup bag, thankful that I’ve left it in the bathroom.

I don’t want Charlie to hear me trying to cover it up, but I know that I need to do some pre-damage control, in case there is bruising tomorrow.

I blot on some liquid foundation, concealer, and add powder before emerging form the bathroom.

The bedside lamp is on and Charlie is setting a small tray on the bedside table that holds a glass of water, two aspirin, and a bag of ice.