Chapter Forty-Five - "Salvage"

2.4K 155 8
                                    

Jake

I walked into our bathroom to find Sarah sitting in the tub, bubbles flying everywhere. She ran the soap along her arms, sending welcome sensations through me.

I leaned on the doorway, which was behind her, wondering what was going through her head.

She slid lower into the tub, running her soapy hands through her hair. She reached for her phone, and scrolled through it, putting it to her ear. I felt the buzzing in my pocket, but before I could pick up and surprise her, she hung up.

I frowned. At least now I knew what was in her head.

She let the phone sink beneath the bubbly surface of the water, and then, she slid lower herself. Lower and lower, until her head disappeared beneath the surface.

Maybe she’s just trying to wash her face, I thought.

Maybe she’s just . . .

I hurried over and lifted her right out of the tub, and let myself sink to the floor, as she sat in my arms.

She looked surprised at first, and then it disappeared, as she closed her eyes. I hugged her tightly to myself, as she buried her face in my neck.

“What are you doing, Sarah?” I muttered, feeling a bout of sorrow engulf me.

She stared at me, her eyes filling up. It was the most vulnerable I’d seen her in days.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to . . . I’m sorry.”

I held her face in my hands, “You can’t do anything stupid. You’re not allowed to be stupid.”

She shut her eyes tightly, as she whispered, “I just want it to stop – the pain. I keep going back there and it hurts every time. I just want it all to stop. Make it stop, Jake. Just . . . make it stop,” she opened her eyes and let the tears fall.

I was suddenly aware of my breaking heart, as my wife sat in my arms reliving the horrors of her past and of her daughter’s past. She trembled as she wrapped her arms around my neck, “I’m sorry.”

Gently, I lifted her and moved over to the shower. I slid to the floor, Sarah still in my arms, and I pressed the button, letting the nozzle come alive above our heads.

She pulled back and stared at me.

“We’re washing it all away. I don’t know how to make it stop, but I will sit here with you for as long as it takes to feel better. And we’ll do it again tomorrow, and the day after. However long it takes,” I said.

The water ebbed and flowed, and my suit got soaked, but I sat there unmoving for what seemed like an eon. Sarah held on to me, staring into my eyes unwavering, and then slowly, she shifted, undoing my belt buckle and pulling off my pants.

I knew what she wanted right then, as I lifted her steadily onto me, and I filled her. She sucked in her breath, but stayed very still, as we remained connected, holding on to each other for dear life.

Then she said something that both shocked me and tugged at my cracked heart.

“Do you still love me?”

My eyes widened, “Of course! What are you—did you think I didn’t anymore?”

She shrugged, “I’m just . . . I’m sorry I hurt her. I’m sorry,” she said, her tears disappearing beneath the water running down her face.

On The Run: Part TwoDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora