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But it’s not that. Or, not just that, anyways. It’s that I want Rafferty more than I crave my next breath, but the idea of him seeing me this way, of him being forced to look at my gaunt, starved appearance, disgusts me.
I wish he’d just let me die.
Sniffling, I straighten. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized it was this bad.”
“Don’t apologize, lass,” she replies as she pats my cheek. “Does your stomach feel ill now?”
I shake my head honestly. As it did last time, my stomach feels fine. It’s me who feels different—weak.
“Then while you soak, I’ll go fetch some bread and fresh fruit. We’ll get you back to rights. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s feeding you.”
Appreciating her hopefulness, I smile and turn toward the water. She aids me, an arm around my waist as I lift one leg over and into the warm water. Then, as I sink down, I bring the other over the edge of the tub until I’m submerged up to my neck.
It envelopes me, warm and serene, and I let my eyes close while leaning my head back. For whatever reason, Wally’s face swims into view.
Him saying goodbye to me at the apartment complex.
Him telling me that I was indestructible.
Anger more potent than nearly anything I’ve felt washes over me just as the water did. He lied to me. My entire life, he’s been watching me, forcing me to remain alone. And for what? So he could stake his claim once I was an adult?
I bet my illness threw a wrench into his twisted fucking plan.
My throat constricts, and I close my eyes as a tear rolls down my cheek. He killed my mother. And I’d adored him for over a year.
“Ember?”
Sniffling, I wipe my cheeks and sit up straighter in the tub. “You can come in!” I call out to Bea seconds before she enters, carrying a chunk of still-steaming bread and some fruit on a wooden tray.
“I am going to set this right here, and I want you to eat some of it,” she orders, setting the food on top of a stool near the bath. Then, she grabs another stool and moves around behind me. “Lean forward.”
I do, and she begins to run her fingers through my hair.
I reach over and grab a grape and pop it into my mouth. The juice is heavenly, sweet, and I grab another then another as she washes dirt and grime from my hair.
“How is your stomach handling the food?” She pins my hair on top of my head and begins to run something slippery over my back.
“Great,” I tell her honestly. My stomach growls, and if I’d had the energy, I might have jumped up in delight. I may have run from Faerie, prepared to die, but I’m more than happy to have another good meal before the inevitable.
Minutes tick by, and soon, she’s retrieving a towel and helping me to my feet. As soon as I’m safely out of the tub, Bea wraps the soft fabric around me and guides me back into the bedroom where she deposits me onto the bed.
Legs still weak, I’m barely able to keep myself standing while she pulls a white nightgown from the trunk and rushes back over to help me get it over my head. As soon as it’s in place, she helps me take a seat and throws the covers back over my legs, hiding my knobby kneecaps from view.
“I’ll go grab the food.” She pats my legs gently then heads for the bathroom.
She’s just coming back when someone calls through the fabric door of the tent, “Ember?”
My chest constricts, my stomach dancing with nerves as his voice fills my ears. I ache for Rafferty. Burn for him in a way I can’t even begin to comprehend. And yet, he is always just out of reach.
Before I can call out to him, Bea answers, “She’s decent, Lad. You can come in.”
The tent flap opens, and I hold my breath as he steps in.
Wearing pale cotton pants and a partially open green shirt, he is absolutely breathtaking. What’s more, his dark hair has begun to grow in and now curls over his ears. His sharp jaw is covered in dark stubble, and golden eyes rimmed in black find mine. The moment they do, his lips part on a soft sigh. “Ember.”
Bea sets the food down on the table beside the bed then smiles softly at me. “I’ll go retrieve you something to drink and be right back.”
I want to ask her to stay.
