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I blew out a breath and freed the button of her jeans. I willed my hands to stop trembling as I lowered the zipper and pushed them off her slender hips. Her panties matched the bra, and though they were nothing provocative, I still couldn’t help being affected.
I helped her step out of her jeans and made an executive decision. The underwear stayed on. That was all there was to it.
I rolled my sleeves up and scooped her into my arms. I held her over the water so that only her feet dipped in.
“Temperature okay?”
She nodded, and I lowered her into the warm bath. She slid down, and her head disappeared under the water. I stopped breathing until she resurfaced.
Damn it, I was losing my head. She needed me to stay cool, in control, when I was anything but.
I sank to my knees and reached for the handheld nozzle. Taking great care not to get water in her eyes, I rinsed the bubbles from her hair. I squeezed shampoo in my palm and lathered it in my hands.
She closed her eyes when I began to massage her scalp. The motion settled me a fraction, and I concentrated on the task instead of my fear.
I repeated with the conditioner, using my hand over her forehead to keep water from running down her face just like Mama had done for me when I was a kid. Once I’d finished, she sank down until her chin touched the water. Her head dropped back against the lip of the tub.
I stood to get a washcloth and set it on the counter while I pulled up the music app on my phone. Satisfied I’d found the song I wanted her to hear, I pressed play.
“Fix You” by Coldplay filled the room. I stooped back down beside the tub and dipped the cloth in the water. Gently, I lifted her arm and rubbed body wash up the length. I held my breath as I ran it over her chest, careful not to touch her breasts.
A sopping bra strap slipped off her shoulder. I slid it back in place and resumed soaping her opposite arm. I skipped between her legs and her back. She seemed content not to move.
I finished by cleaning in between her toes. I squeezed the excess water from the cloth and hung it on the side of the tub.
“Want to soak a bit?”
She nodded again. Her chest expanded as she inhaled deeply before her shoulders sank on an exhale.
I kissed her forehead and moved to the chair. I stretched my legs out in front of me and crossed one ankle over the other, ready to wait as long as she needed me to.
Her stress had been apparent when she came barreling out of that church. She’d told off God? What did that mean? And then right after that, she’d gone to a completely different time and place. One she never should have had to live through the first time, let alone over and over again.
“He always grabbed my wrist.” I sat up straight when she spoke. “Before he…”
Dread filled me.
She’d tried to get past me, and I’d grabbed her by the wrist to stop her. I scrubbed my forehead. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It was my fault she’d gone straight back to hell. Again.
“I didn’t know,” I whispered.
“Now you see why we can’t do this.” Her voice was robotic.
“Can’t do what?” I sat on the edge of the seat.
“What if this happened in front of our children? It would frighten them just like it scares you.”
“We can work on it together.”
“I’ve been working on it for twenty-two years.”
“You think I’ll quit just because I’m scared?” I moved back beside the tub to my knees.
“I won’t have you blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault. You didn’t know he did that to me. I hadn’t thought of it in a long time.”
“Shhh.” I brushed my thumb over her lips. “You don’t carry this on your own any longer.”
