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The old me would hope he leans in, cementing his words with a kiss so sweet I can feel it through to my toes.

Except the new me is tainted, marred, and marked by someone else’s hands.

I can feel it. That lingering touch of unwanted hands on me, and it feeds the anger. I hate how much this trauma owns me, how its claws have sunk deep beneath my skin, skin that tightens at the thought, remembering the way his knife carved into it.

At the touch of his lips to my forehead, a mixture of disappointment and relief rushes through me so quickly my head spins.

“Come on. Let’s get you out and into bed,” Noah says, fetching a towel and holding it out to me.

Once I’m dried and dressed in a pair of soft pyjamas, I crawl under the bedsheets, then shuffle back when Noah follows me in, lying down facing me. An arm slides under my side, then he tucks me against his chest tightly, wrapping me into his embrace and placing a kiss on my crown.

He holds me, the two of us staying like this, and I think over his words from the bathroom.

My mind tugs them apart, dissecting them. Doubt creeps in, because whilst he can make these promises for himself, he can’t for the others.

“Not Max, though,” I mumble against the fabric of his shirt pressed to my cheek.

“What do you mean?” His voice vibrates softly through me as his thumb strokes circles over the centre of my back. The touch makes me itch to crawl away and sink further into him simultaneously.

Sighing, I force the words out.

“You used we when you talked about not being alone, and that we’re in this together…but that doesn’t include Max. Does it? It’s like he can’t stand to see me or even be around me. I…I don’t know what I’ve done…”

I don’t voice some of the dark, cloying thoughts that have started to seep in. All of them make me scared that I’m going to be tossed aside once they realise what’s left of me. With Max, I can already see it happening. It’s like he can’t bear to look at me since I’ve been touched by him.

He was there. He found me in that place. Picked up my broken, abused body and carried me out of there. Max saw everything, and it…disgusts him.

It’s not really what I’ve done, but what I am now.

Broken.

Stained.

Shattered.

I can’t even hate him for it, because I understand. If I could choose to look away, to detach from myself, I would. He’s not stuck with me like I am.

“Rosy…” Noah’s voice pulls me back, but I can feel the whispering thoughts trying to reel me in. “Maxi is…he’s not very good at forgiving himself. I can’t speak for him and say it’s what he’s thinking. But it’s what he’s done in the past. He’s quick to shoulder the blame and guilt. We are all coping with what happened to you in different ways. Perhaps his way is hurting you more than it’s helping.”

It’s hard not to scoff at his words. Why would any of them feel any guilt? It’s not like they handed me over to him and left me there. Regardless of their actions that got me fired, they did nothing to make the rest happen.

Instead, they came for me.

Sure, when I’d first found out that they’d gone behind my back and spoken to him, I’d been hurt and betrayed.

Perhaps I still am, but it’s become buried deep down under every other painful, hollowing emotion I have storming inside me. I’ve just become too full, and everything is too much to filter through.

Can I really compare their betrayal to his? Does one outweigh the other?

Am I doing the wrong thing by letting them take care of me?

In a way, they were right. They saw something in him that I missed.

I don’t know anything anymore, what I’m supposed to feel or what I’m not. I don’t want any of it. I’m ready to check out now.

Is there an exit? Can I get off this train?

I know life isn’t supposed to be easy. You’re not supposed to have it all…but surely, I’ve had enough of the shitty part by now?