Getting Along

52. Who

It’s been two nights since she came home. She didn’t sleep through the first night because of a bad dream. And once she was awake for the rest of the night, her tolerance of having me in bed with her disappeared and I ended up sleeping on the floor. I would’ve gone to the couch, but she didn’t want me to leave the room. It was a rough night for the both of us.

During the day, she tried so hard to act like nothing happened. She worked on her computer and cooked our meals and tried to talk to me like she normally would. The only difference was the way her shoulders were always tense, the terrified look in her eye whenever there was an unexpected noise; the way she flinched and the way she always looked over her shoulder. And there was also the meter radius of personal space that I was forbidden to even go near.

Last night wasn’t so bad though. She was okay with me being in bed next to her all night. I woke up every couple hours, because I was having trouble sleeping too, to see she was still awake most of the time. When she realized I was awake we’d have stupid conversations about random things before one of us nodded off—only to do it again in two hours.

But now, I was woken up by the growing unfamiliar touch of her hand on my chest, gently shaking me awake; my name being whispered a couple times. I opened my eyes, seeing her face partially lit by the rising sun. It must’ve been seven in the morning. I reached up to her, thinking her touching me was something I could do back, but she stiffened so I let my hand fall.

"What’s wrong?"

She glanced away from me, “Can you…come shower with me?” I stared blankly at her. Shower with her? She’s barely wanted me near her, and now she wants to shower with me? It didn’t make sense. “Or stand outside the door.” When I still didn’t say anything she swallowed and whispered, “I’m scared. I need you there.” Oh. My heart shattered.

"Okay." I sat up and followed her to the bathroom, watching the way she tiptoed. She looked back to me nervously before yanking the shower curtain back like she expected to catch someone in there. A relieved sigh left her as she turned the water on. I leaned back against the counter, watching as she started to pull her sweatpants down.

She noticed me looking at her and froze, gripping the fabric in her hands. I got the hint that she didn’t want me looking at her, so I looked at the floor. A pile of her clothes were in my peripheral and I watched her feet walk into the shower. When I looked up she’d just closed the curtain.

I rubbed a hand over my face, just thinking about all she’s been through lately, and then thishappens. There are so many stories about women who never recover from this. It could mentally scar her forever and I had no idea how to make it better. She didn’t like being touched so I couldn’t even hug her. I wish I should go in her brain and erase it from her memory. I’d have it implanted in my own brain if it meant she didn’t have to mentally suffer like this.

"Niall?" She peeked out of the curtain. A reassured look washed over her face like she’d thought I left.

"I’m here." She didn’t say back, but she looked thankful. The curtain was closed and I listened as she moved around, washing herself and her hair. She was mostly quiet apart from the couple times she sighed or cleared her throat. I noticed she’d peek around the curtain a couple times to make sure I was still there before disappearing again.

After a couple minutes I started nodding off as the steam made my eyes heavy. I leaned against the counter my head resting on my knuckles and listened to the water hitting the tiles. Next thing I knew a wet hand was on my shoulder and snapped me awake.

I shot up, causing her to yelp and step away from me. She accidentally stepped on The Fuzz, making him whimper too before moving out of the way.

"Sorry," I gushed, reaching forward to hug her. Her eyes widened and she backed away further. I let my hand fall.