Page 82 of How We Loved

We were quiet pretty much the whole way home. I appreciated that Natalie gave me time to think about everything that had just happened.

“Let me get a rag to get you cleaned up.” Natalie heads toward the bathroom, so I follow her.

She hands me a washcloth as I pull my pants down. I glance at my scrapes, fully seeing them now that we’re in the light.

“Here, I’ll get you something to change into.”

She leaves the room as I clean up the area, then trade her the washcloth for one of Dalton’s sweatshirts and a pair of his shorts that might as well be pants on me.

I slip the shorts on, then slide the sweatshirt over my head and down my body, wrapping myself up in it. Then, I head back to the living room, where I plop back against his couch with a sigh.

“Want to talk about it?” she asks as she grabs a blanket and covers me with it.

“How could I be so dumb?” I look up to the ceiling, trying to stop the tears that are coming.

She places her hand on my knee. “Don’t say that. There’s a reason why this kind of thing happens every day. I know he had some good traits.”

A tear falls down my face at the memories we had. “He did. I really thought he was a good guy. I know not everyone is perfect. He would always snap out of his little moods and make up for it. I never thought it would get this far.”

“Most women don’t. The alcohol didn’t help either.”

I shake my head, realizing she’s right. “Yeah. He definitely changed after he drank.” I take a deep inhale then turn to look at her. “Where are the guys?”

Natalie reaches for her phone in her back pocket, looking like she’s reading a text. “They’re on their way back. Eli is driving your car.” She types out a message, then hits Send and puts her phone down. “I told Dalton we’re here.”

Natalie reaches for the remote and turns on the television. “What’s your favorite show?”

I shrug. “I only ever watch sports with the guys. At home, I just watch Netflix.”

She laughs. “You too, huh?” She puts on ESPN and sets down the remote.

There’s something comforting about being here, watching sports even though the guys aren’t here yet.

We hear footsteps coming up the stairs that lead to his apartment, and the door opens with three larger-than-life guys stepping through.

Dalton heads straight to Natalie and me while Eli plops down on the recliner next to us after he sets my purse, jacket, and keys on the coffee table. Ben walks past us without saying a word and goes into the bathroom.

I look at Dalton and then Eli. “What happened?”

Eli, in his no-bullshit fashion, answers simply, “We got your stuff and drove home.”

Dalton, on the other hand, lets out a sharp laugh, proving to me that something else did happen.

I stand up and walk to the bathroom to talk to Ben. He doesn’t hear or see me coming. He’s completely focused on washing his hands, and when I look down, I notice the tops of his knuckles bleeding.

I move quickly to grab his hand and examine it more closely. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He startles at my presence, then tries to blow me off. “It’s fine.”

He turns off the water and grabs a towel to wrap around one hand that seems worse than the other.

“Let me see it,” I say, trying to catch his eyes.

He’s looking anywhere but at me.

“Don’t worry about it. It will be fine tomorrow.” He glances at me for a quick second, giving me a tiny grin, then walks past me.

When I exit the bathroom, he’s sitting on a barstool in the kitchen even though the couch is completely open with Natalie and Dalton on the love seat and Eli on the recliner.

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