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But not because it hurt.
“You’ll be bruised. The cut’s only topical, though. We’ll give the ice a few minutes on your wrist, then we’ll move it to your back.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He leaned me back into the couch before settling into the cushions beside me. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Couldn’t stop looking at him as his hands fell between his legs. He stared hard at the wall, licking his lips, which were cracked open and bleeding. I wanted to lean against him, but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea.
“I’m sorry.”
Clint’s words pulled me from my trance and I furrowed my brow.
“Wait, what? Why?”
He sighed. “I’m sorry for getting you hurt.”
I shrugged. “Well, you didn’t hurt me. So, yeah.”
The pain that rose up in his eyes left me breathless.
“No, I didn’t. But, I was reckless. And that got you hurt.”
I had no rebuttal to that statement, either. Because he was technically right.
“How about we deal with one blow at a time, Clint. Okay?”
He nodded slowly. “Deal.”
He moved the ice pack from my wrist to my back, leaning me up just enough to slide it between my skin and the couch cushions. I shivered at the cold as he leaned me back. Then he reached for my swollen wrists.
“Let me know if any of this hurts,” he said.
And one by one, he began to softly massage the joints of my fingers.
32
Clinton
I mindlessly massaged her fingers as she relaxed further into the couch. One of the few times Cecilia and I had ever interacted with one another was the one time my father ever did any real damage to my body. He had dislocated my wrist to teach me a lesson, then popped it back in once I agreed to clean up my bathroom. Cecilia had come in and help me clean it, then massaged my fingers before wrapping my wrist in an ace bandage to heal.
To this day, I can fully remember just how amazing that massage felt.
Rae sighed with relief as I slowly popped every knuckle. One by one, down her finger, until I’d traced all five of them. I massaged her palm slowly, being careful with the bones in the top of her hand. I worked my way toward her wrist, getting lighter and lighter until she flinched. Then I began backing up, making my way down the hand, back into the palm, and up to the tips of her fingers.
Giving myself time to process everything I thought. Everything I felt. Everything I wanted to do, but couldn't.
“You wanna tell me what this fight was all about now?”
I settled Rae’s hand against my thigh, feeling her heat penetrate my jeans. Did I want to come clean? Did I want to open up to her? Did I want to let her in again?
Yes. Yes, I did.
I licked the blood off my lips. “This weekend was rough. Dad came home.”
She paused. “What did he do, Clint?”
I shrugged. “The usual. Cecilia stepped in this time, though. And he wasn’t happy about that.”
“Is she okay?”
