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“For stopping me.” My heart is pounding, and he grabs both sides of my face, holding onto it hard, studying my eyes. My breathing is erratic as I wait for him to move in.
Then as he slowly does, the door to the studio opens and Braxley is hunched over. Alarm consumes me. Thane lets me go, and I rush to Braxley’s side. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t feel good.”
“What hurts?”
I kneel in front of him, looking into his glazed red eyes. “My tummy.”
“You feel like you’re gonna get sick?”
He nods, and I turn to Thane, mouthing I’m sorry as I lead him out of the room. Feeling so bad for Braxley as I walk him into the bathroom, he slumps to the floor, his tiny body hugging the toilet, and as a mother in this moment I’m so helpless. I don’t want him to ever hurt; I want to take his pain away. The way he takes my pain.
