Olives.
Cheese.
A sausage roll.
It’s all a fog. A blur.
I can’t stop.
20
I’ll Be Here To Catch Her
Eli's Search History: Healthy comfort foods for emotional distress.
Eli
Myclientlastedlongerthan expected.
I checked in on Emily through the cameras I set up.
Last I saw, she was peacefully reading, looking content in our home.
I open the door quietly, not wanting to disturb her.
Sobbing echoes from the kitchen.
My heart lurches.
I move on instinct, worst-case scenarios crowding my mind.
Emily’s on the floor, her back pressed to the cabinets, her body shaking, her head buried in her knees. Food wrappers litter the floor around her, discarded in haste.
"Angel," I coo—then freeze.
I’m not wearing my mask.
Her tear-streaked face jerks up to meet mine. She sucks in a breath. A snot bubble bursts from her nose, and more tears spill down her cheeks before she hides her face again, curling tighter into herself.
I drop to my knees, helpless.
I’ve seen this before—after my lapse in judgement, sending her Tom’s finger.
I’ve done it again. Hurt her. Made her cry.
I don’t know exactly what the catalyst was this time. But I only have myself to blame.
Gently, I pry her hands away from where she’s gripping her skin so tightly I’m afraid she’ll bruise. I lace our fingers together and press a kiss to her knuckles.
Her eyes find mine again, and the sight of her pain guts me.
"What happened, Angel?"
She tries to speak, but only hiccupping gasps come out.
"Shh," I murmur, stroking her back. "It’s okay. Deep breaths."
Graham butts his head against my leg, mewing softly. I scratch behind his ears before turning my full attention back to her.