ATONEMENT | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

I fumed. "Fuck you, Brad."

He overlooked my scorn. "Her husband believes she developed an eating disorder."

"No," I cried, willing myself to calm down. "That's not true. I do not have any issues with food." When the men exchanged glances, I eyed them individually. "Guys, come on. Brad's being a little overdramatic, right?" Not one of them spoke up for me. "Josh?"

Josh's head shook slowly. "I'm sorry, Alexa."

My throat tightened. "Nate?"

Nate's apologetic gaze went to the window.

I am incapable of sustaining their coldness. "Vincent?"

Vincent's hand found mine on the bed. He studied our threatened fingers. "You need help, Angel."

"I don't need help. I am fine." Tears of shame hazed everyone. "Please don't humiliate me," I whimpered. "Not like this."

"There is nothing to be ashamed of," The doctor's head tilted. "Mrs Warren, acceptance is the first step to recovery." He saw denial in my fierce stare. "Eating disorders, like anorexia, can lead to abnormally low hypotension. In case you are not aware, anorexia is a restricted diet caused by a compulsive desire to achieve a specific body image. Failing to consume enough calories can cause the body to break down its tissue for fuel. The heart struggles to pump blood without fuel provided by food. As a result, the heart can become malnourished, and low blood pressure can occur. I imagine episodes of dizziness, nausea and fatigue are symptoms you encounter quite often. Furthermore, lack of nutrients impedes the body from producing red blood cells, which can set in anaemia. So that you know, anaemia and anorexia are closely related."

I felt sick.

He nearly handed me a leaflet. "Now, binging and purging can be as vital as vomiting can deplete the body of electrolytes and—"

"You are all wrong." Yanking the intravenous needle out of my arm, I climbed off the bed as blood sprinkled the paper sheets. "I do not make myself sick."

Silence stretched throughout the confined room.

"I have never hated you as much as I do right now." My glare zoned in on Brad. "Especially you."

"Why?" His voice was thick. "Because I fucking care about you."

"I do not want to achieve a specific body image. Don't you get it, Brad? I hate everything about the way I look. I am nothing compared to the woman at the club. See!" I waved wildly to my flat chest. "Why would I deliberately forgo food to lose more weight? I look like a fifteen-year-old girl!"

His lips grimaced.

"Do you think that makes me happy?" At this point, it was only the two of us in the room. "Do you think I don't fear my husband's judgement every time he looks at me?" A painful sob hurt my chest. "It's the same look in your eyes right now. Disgust."

"Warren loves you." He took one step closer, albeit cautious. "We all do."

I trembled from head to toe.

Brad's was voice low in my ear. "Sugar tits."

Hugging myself, I cowered from him.

"Let us help you," he whispered, thumbing a tear from my cheek. "Let me help you."

"I do not purge."

He spoke, and dubiousness lurked in his tone.

"I do not," I said with more conviction. "Why won't you believe me?"

Josh's hand touched my shoulder, and I recoiled, my back pressing to the wall as I moved away from him. "Alexa," he said throatily. "I would never hurt you."