Page 56 of Safe Place

I snatch the clothes from him without looking up, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.

“Thanks,” I mutter, my voice sharper than I intend. Micah stays standing there a second longer than necessary, back half-turned as if giving me privacy, but I can feel him.

As soon as he steps out, I release a deep breath. I throw on the T-shirt first—it hangs halfway down my thighs—and then tug on the sweatpants, rolling the waistband three times to keep them from sliding off. My hands are still shaking. Did he see everything? Oh God, he definitely saw everything. My scar. My body.

When I step out, Micah is leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed, pretending like he hasn’t been waiting. His eyes flick to me briefly, lingering a second longer than they should before he clears his throat.

“Feel better?” he asks casually, but there’s something in his voice—lower, strained.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, pretending nothing happened, even though I can barely meet his eyes.

Micah gives a small nod, his mouth twitching like he’s holding back a smile. “Good. You, uh, look cute in that.”

“Thanks.”

But the way he’s still watching me—like he’s trying very hard not to think about what just happened—makes it impossible to believe either of us is as calm as we’re pretending to be.

“Give me your clothes so I can toss them in the washer,” he says suddenly, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

I shake my head. “No, it’s fine—do you have a plastic bag?”

Micah arches a brow at me, unimpressed. “Sophie, it’s gonna smell. And it’s drenched in rain. That’s gross.”

I let out a quiet sigh, finally giving in. “Fine.”

I go and grab my clothes, then come back with the wet bundle and hand it to him. He goes and puts them in the washer.

When he’s comes back, he’s not smiling or playful like his usual self. When his eyes lift back to mine, they’re steady and serious.

“Now,” he says quietly, his voice softer but firm, “let’s talk about your arm.”

MICAH

As impossibly distracting as it was seeing Sophie naked, it wasn’t enough to make me forget the mark on her arm. Concern cut through everything else.

“How long have you had it? Who gave it to you?” My voice is low, careful, like I’m afraid she might shatter if I push too hard.

“Micah, I’d rather not—” Her voice is strained, like she’s holding something back.

“Sophie, please.” I take a step closer, searching her face. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Her gaze drops to the floor, her fingers tightening protectively around her arm. “It’s not something I want to talk about.”

I know I should stop. I should let it go. But the thought slips out before I can catch it. “Is that why you never roll up your left sleeve?”

She flinches. “No—yes,” she finally admits, her voice breaking. “Yes, it is. And that’s all I’m going to say.”

“Sophie,” I say gently, but almost pleading, “Do you really think I’d judge you? That I’d ever make light of what you’ve been through? Or⁠⁠—”

“Micah, stop! Please.” Her voice cracks as the words burst out. “It’s a hideous, embarrassing scar—and the way I got it is even worse. Every time I feel it, every time I see it, I’m reminded of how it happened and who—” She cuts herself off abruptly, as if she’s caught herself just before saying too much.

And then the tears come. She tries to turn away, but she’s already crying, her shoulders trembling, and the sound of her breaking like this feels like someone’s crushing my chest. A slow, searing anger builds in me because I’m almost certain I know who did this to her, but it doesn’t matter right now. She’s hurting, and it’s probably better if I stayed calm.

“Okay,” I murmur, stepping forward and pulling her into my arms, holding her tight against me. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

She buries her face into my chest, hiccuping between sobs. Her voice is muffled, almost too soft to hear. “What makes it worse is…you’re seeing this scar.”

My heart lurches, but I keep my voice steady. “Sophie,” I say firmly, tilting my head so she has to hear me, “nothing—nothing about how I see you is going to change because of this. Not ever.”