Page 78 of Injustice and Absolution

He’s not reaching for me. He’s not caressing my hands or trying to take them in his, offering me the pardon I don’t deserve.

Tugging on them, he forcibly releases his shirt from my grip. The material is damp and tousled from my sweaty fists. He brings my wrists together and holds them tightly between our bodies, keeping me from reaching out for him again.

I chase his pained stare from one eye to the other and beg him to speak. To put me out of my misery because the anticipation of what happens next is like a vice grip crushing my throat.

His brows furrow, and he shakes his head weakly, taking in my appearance. I’m certain I look every bit like the pitiful drowned rat I feel like right now.

“Get yourself cleaned up. I’m sure your tables are looking for you.”

With that, he lets go of me, and my arms drop to my sides as sure as if I had weights tied to my wrists. I wish for the ground to open and swallow me whole.

He turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him. I catch my reflection in the mirror mounted to the back of it. The ruined face of my younger self looks back at me with red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, and a hollow stare.

I’d recognize her anywhere.

I look identical to how I did in the aftermath of another night with my father. Except now, I’m in a nightmare of my own making.

And this time, I’m the villain.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DELILAH

Drew kept his distance from me the rest of the evening.

Everyone could sense the tension between us, and I couldn’t deny anything was amiss as I fought to hold back my tears.

The drive home is equally strained, and I find myself struggling to say something to improve the situation I’ve so carelessly forced us into.

But it’s as though I’ve forgotten how to piece words together to form an intelligible sentence. Everything I’ve come up with sounds more like the desperate cry of a child than a carefully thought-out apology.

As Drew puts his car into park along the curb in front of his townhouse, I frantically rack my brain for something, anything to say.

“I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am, Drew.” It’s weak, but it’s the truth. And the truth is what he wanted from me all along, so I let it guide me and beg it to finally set me free.

His hand stills on the door handle as he takes in my words. But too quickly, he throws his door open and exits the car. Usually, I wait for him to open my door because he enjoys the chivalry behind it. But I don’t wait to be ignored as a result of his irritation. Instead, I open my door and climb out, following him up the front walk.

The moment we get into the house, my pleading from earlier resumes.

“Drew, please talk to me. I can’t take back the lie, but I regret it horribly. I only did it because I didn’t want to hurt you. Please, tell me what I can do to make things right.”

My words spill from me hastily, draining my breath as I don’t stop to inhale between them.

“How can this be made right, Delilah?” With one foot on the bottom step, Drew finally turns to me.

He stomps across the living room, charging toward me with an intensity that makes me jump. His ferocious strides back me into the sofa, causing my knees to buckle when they hit the cushion. Drew stands tall over me, his domineering stance rooting me to my seat.

“How can you get the image of him with his hands all over you out of my mind? How am I supposed to erase the thought of the two of you being together from my memory, Delilah?”

My body trembling, I can barely breathe let alone offer a suggestion to ease his troubles.

“I-I d-don't know. I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it takes to make this go away.”

The second the words leave my lips, I realize I’ve made yet another mistake this evening. Drew’s hands fly to his belt as he fumbles to unbuckle it. Pulling it swiftly from the loops of his pants, he discards the strap of leather, and the metal jingles as it hits the hard floor.

As my mind fights to keep panic from setting in, I remind myself that Drew has never given me a reason to fear him. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him.

Until the other night...

---