AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A knock sounds on the door, and I raise my voice to call out, “come in” when it opens to reveal Orson. He’s already seen me a little bit naked, after the gala, so it doesn’t bother me that he’s come in without permission.
“Hey,” Orson says, almost hesitantly as he shifts from foot to foot. “I know you’re showering, but I wanted to come and say something without the others overhearing.”
“Okay...”
“My sister isn’t around anymore,” he says quietly, well as quiet as he can be over the sound of running water. “When she had my niece, she had something called postpartum depression. Have you heard of it?”
I nod, but since I’m rubbing conditioner in my hair, I have no idea if he can see me. “Yes.”
“I thought so. She struggled for a very long time, and we missed it. When we were there, she was okay. She played with Olivia, she was a good mum who never seemed to let anything faze her, and her house was always so clean. I know that sounds ridiculous because, of course, none of those things matter, but I’m trying to paint the picture here. She was on top of things. She never had a hair out of place, Olivia was always smiling, and they seemed happy. There was no reason to doubt otherwise.”
“What happened?” I ask quietly.
“She killed herself.”
Fuck.
“My sister was a strong woman, and she was battling something we could never understand. It was years ago now. My niece, Olivia, she’s nine now. It was a loss that hit my family hard.”
“I can only imagine.”
“So, my point in sharing this is that I will doanythingto ensure you and my sister don’t meet the same end,” he says with a grim smile on his face. “Accepting help doesn’t make you weak. Taking some time off work isn’t regressing. You are so fucking strong, Nora, and we’re going to help you deal with your wolf, and get back to being a little happier. I’m not saying we’re going to fix you because you’re not broken. I’m just saying, I’ve seen firsthand what it’s like to feel like you’re all alone and that you need to be “strong”, but that’s bullshit. That’s not mental health, that’s crap.”
I open the shower, and he hands me a towel from the towel warmer in the corner without breaking eye contact. I appreciate that because I think the topic we’re discussing is more important than my boobs. It makes me happy that he does, too.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” I tell him as I tie a knot in my towel in the front of my chest. Tears well up in my eyes, and his gaze softens. “I’ve not been taking care of myself lately.”
“I know,” he says. “I take care of the home, little cub, let me help take care of you, too.”
But as easy as that sounds… how do I do that? How do I truly give in and rely on another person?
How can I be so selfish and let him take over my needs? How can I give in control and let him bathe me and feed me?
Because that’s what I need. I don’t have the executive functions to do those things for myself, so if he’s proposing that he’ll take care of me, that’s what he’ll have to do.
His eyes narrow as he sniffs the air, and I dread to think what scents I’m giving off to prompt that look in his eyes.
“I was alone last time I felt this low,” I murmur, speaking before he can, really. “It’s going to be hard to break the habits of dealing with it all on my own. I want help. I want to not hate myself anymore, but I don’t know how.”
I walk through to the bedroom, and he follows.
“My sister felt she couldn’t come to us for help,” Orson says, pushing me to sit down at the vanity. “She struggled alone, and when she got to that really dark point, she had nobody there to pull her back from it. She gave in to the twisted lies in her brain, and she’s dead. Do you feel that low? Are you a danger to yourself?”
“No.” Not right now, anyway.
His shoulders relax, and a small smile appears on his face. He steals my hairbrush and starts gently brushing through my wet hair. “Good.”
“I’m low. Sometimes I struggle to remember why I want to be alive, and I might even have weak moments where I give up... but I’m still here.”
“And I’ll be there during those weak moments,” Orson says. “Atticus, Malachi, Devoss, Micah, and even Griffin will be there during those weak moments. Just know we’re never going to judge you. We’re never going to think you’re weak.”
I nod, and as he starts drying my hair, I watch him in the mirror. He’s gentle but focused. It’s sweet, and it’s a reminder that he cares. Once my hair is dry, he puts away my hairdryer and hands me a pair of pyjamas.
“Clean clothes should help, little cub,” he says, kissing the top of my head before pulling out a second towel when I don’t move. He dries my arms, ever so gently, and I can’t stop myself from taking his comfort. I need his touch. I want his help.
He dries every inch of me that’s on show before undoing the towel, and again, gently dries my body. It’s not sexual, just caring—just like when Voss and Micah helped me shower the other night. When tears spring to my eyes, he gently wipes them away.
Over and over the word of the night has been gentle. He’s a giant, and I know first hand how tight his grip can be, but he’s shown me nothing but dainty hands tonight. He pulls on my clothes, and even goes so far as to pull on some socks.
