On a thick swallow, I try the knob and find it unlocked. A wall of steam slams into me the moment I push into the small space. Mirror fogged over and with an oppressive heat filling the room, I ease in, carefully avoiding the pile of clothes on the floor. I say her name a few times.
Still nothing.
I come up to the shower curtain, eyes pinched as I debate what to do next. The sound of the water is constant, no ebbs or flows, no sloshing. She’s not moving. Nerves threaten to invade the last fortresses of my self-control.
“Hannah,” I say one last time, begging. When she doesn’t reply, I tug the curtain over a few inches to peek inside.
She sits naked on the tub floor, legs tucked tightly into her chest. Her head rests between the dip of her knees as the shower beats down upon her back.
There’s no thinking or weighing pros and cons. Only action.
I peel off my shirt. “Hannah, it’s me.” Shorts, gone. “I’m here.” I toss my socks aside. “You’re safe.” I set the door fully open to let some of the heat escape the cramped room. “Nothing bad is gonna to happen to you.”
Stripped down to my boxers, I pull a fresh towel from the cabinet and step back up to the curtain. “I’m coming in, okay?”
I take her silence as permission and climb into the tub. Standing behind her, I flap the towel open and lay it across her bareback. The water soaks it through in a matter of seconds, causing it to cling to her body like a second skin.
Her chest rises on a shaky breath as I lower to a seated position. My boxers are saturated with water but I don’t care. I stretch my legs out on either side of her, bracketing her between my knees.
Water ricochets off the wet towel onto my face as I scoot closer. “Baby, can I hold you?”
A small nod. I stack my arms atop her own around her shins, gently settling my chest against her back. My embrace takes the place of the hot water over her skin as I curl my torso around her shoulders.
The persistent jet stream pelts my spine and the steam makes it hard to breathe, but I feel none of it. All I feel is the weight of her lungs inflating beneath me until our breaths are in sync.
Her voice cuts through the echo of water bouncing off porcelain. “I’m sorry.”
I squeeze her harder, kiss the back of her head. “Don’t do that.”
“I told you I was a mess.”
“You don’t get to do that either.” I collect some of the wet hair stuck to her face and clear it away.
The silence is heavy, burdened by her disbelief at my words.
Thirteen years of military service has my need to fix it, to protect, to neutralize threats, rearing its ugly head. I want to barge into Daniel’s house and finish him with my fists. Destroy his career. Run him out of town. Put him behind bars.
I’d throw myself between her and danger every second of every day for the rest of my life if I could. Fall on a sword, leap in front of a bullet, run into traffic—anything. I’d do anything to protect her from pain.
But, in five days, I won’t be here. The reality burns like bile in my stomach.
“Baby, I need to say this because I’m gonna spend the rest of my life regretting it if I don’t.” A pause as I push past the pain in my chest. “I think you need to report it. What happened to you wasn’t nothing.” Her shoulders tremble. “Somethingdidhappen to you, Hannah, and you shouldn’t carry the weight of it by yourself.”
A quiet sob spills out of her, and I can’t discern my tears from thewater streaming down my face. This girl’s forgotten she’s a fighter. It’s in her blood. Her bones.
“Admitting it happened doesn’t make you weak. Talking about it doesn’t make you weak. Telling your story doesn’t make you weak.”
She cries in earnest now, hiccups of breath rushing in and out.
I bring my lips to her ear. “You are not broken. And you are not a mess.”
And I love you.
42
he’s everywhere
Hannah