“It’s not a choice, Lydia,” he snaps, starting the car again. “I’m sorry, but you’re staying with me tonight.”
The protest dies on my lips, replaced by a numb resignation. Exhaustion hits me as I shrink into the passenger seat, still clutching my head.
When we reach his driveway, he gets out immediately, but I don’t move, frozen in place, my body still shaking. Eli comes around to my side, opening the door sharply. Without speaking, he reaches inside, pulling me out by the arm. I stumble slightly, trying to twist away from him, but his grip is firm.
“Please, Eli,” I whisper. “Just let me go home.”
He doesn’t respond as he roughly walks inside the darkened house and upstairs. His room no longer feels like my safe space anymore; it feels like somewhere I’m terrified to be.
“I’ll get you something to change into,” he mutters, disappearing into his closet.
I walk to his bathroom, my breath hitching when I catch sight of my reflection. My heart shatters all over again as I stare at the girl looking back at me in the mirror. There’s a deep purple bruise already showing on the side of my face where it had hit the window; another bruise darkened my upper arm.
My vision blurs again, tears spilling down my cheeks. My body is shaking uncontrollably from the sobs. I barely recognize myself.
The bathroom door opens, and Eli walks in holding one of his t-shirts to give me. He freezes immediately when his eyes lock onto my broken and bruised reflection. Horror washes over his face, and the shirt drops from his hand.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, almost in shock at what he’s seeing. He crosses the small space quickly, pulling me into his chest. “Lydia, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I stand there limp, numb, unable to respond as he holds me, whispering apologies over and over again into my hair. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, Lydia. I love you. I just—I got too angry. I can’t handle thinking about you with someone else. It won’t ever happen again. I swear.”
He steps back, eyes frantic, searching for a way he can fix this. “Let me—let me get you ice. Just—just, stay here.”
As he leaves the room, I change robotically into the shirt he’d dropped. It smells like him, a scent I’d always found comforting and safe. Now it makes me feel hollow and confused. When Eli returns, he presses the cold ice pack gently against my bruised cheek, concern written all over his face.
“I love you,” he murmurs desperately. “You have no idea how much I love you, Lydia.”
I don’t respond. My body is too numb, and my mind is spiraling. He takes my hand gently, leading me to his bed. I follow silently and let him pull me in beside him. I just lay there stiffly as he wraps his arms carefully around me.
“I’m never going to hurt you again,” he whispers. “I promise, Lydia. You’re everything to me. I just—I lost control. Please forgive me.Please.”
I lie silently against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. My thoughts feel overwhelming, and I just want it all to stop.
Despite everything, his touch is the only comfort I want, the only thing capable of soothing the terrified part of me…thathecaused. Part of me wishes so badly that he could take it all back, erase the bruises, erase the memories, fix what he’s broken. And even though that seems impossible right now, it’s still the only hope I hold onto.
My eyelids grow heavy as the tiredness starts to drag me under, and I’m so desperate to escape my own mind that I let the exhaustion win.
“I love you so much,” Eli whispers one final time, his voice still trembling.
“I know,” I finally murmur back weakly, slipping into darkness, hoping desperately that when I wake back up, everything will feel normal again.
13
Lydia
The days just seem to blend straight into the next. I honestly don’t even know how many days have passed at this point. I’ve been in this room for so long that time has become meaningless.
Every time I look in the mirror, all I see is someone who doesn’t look like me. The girl I see now is all beaten and bruised—mostly on the inside, even though the purple smudges on the side of my face are still there, barely visible now under all the makeup I keep applying on top of it. If you didn’t know it was there, you probably wouldn’t even notice it. But I do. It’sallI see now. It’s all I can feel. Over and over again, in my head, in my heart. The pain feels so suffocating and confusing.
I keep telling everyone I’ve been too sick to leave my bed, and they’ve all bought the lie easily, giving me the space needed to hide what he’s done.
All I want to do is slip into the darkness and let it take me under. I hate feeling this way.
I haven’t even touched my meds because I hate the way I feel on them more than just feeling everything. Some fucked up part of my head wants to feel everything instead of moving through life like a numb robot. Feeling like that makes me more suicidal than just being in pain.
Every time Simone tries to FaceTime, I let it ring and then call her back, telling her I look too gross to be on camera, not a total lie, but it’s not from any kind of sickness.
Eli has come over every single day after school. It feels comforting in a way, like he actually cares, he doesn’t hate me, he didn’t mean to hurt me, hewantsto fix this, but it also feels suffocating, too. I just want some time and space to process what happened without him in my face, apologizing every chance he gets. It makes me feel so guilty when he begs for forgiveness, yet I don’t want him to stop.
