Page 91 of Bartholomew
-Stick to the plan. Is she ok? - Levi
-Yes. No. I don’t know. Have to go. - I pushed send, setting the phone on the countertop, and getting back to the matter at hand. I started the water in the bath, turning it on as hot as it would go. Pacing the length of the room, I continually stopped to glance back into the bedroom at my wife. My love. Fucking hell, I loved her. Any qualms I’d had earlier today about that fact squashed under the weight of emotion that nearly smothered me with their intensity.
My hands fisted roughly in my hair, tugging until I feared the strands would pull clear out at the root. I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I was a mess. Putting my hands on the sink, I looked into my own eyes, giving myself a silent pep talk.
Deep breath.
One more.
And another.
Pull it together.
You have to. For her.
With one more deep breath, I turned back to the tub, turning the water off, and pouring in a few handfuls of fragrant bath salts.
“Delilah? Let’s get you into the bath. Would that be okay?” I asked. She looked up at me, a watery smile on her face that didn’t come close to meeting her eyes. She nodded again. Fuck, I wished she would speak. But she was more present now than she had been yet. Thank fuck for that small fact.
She stood from the bed, taking my outstretched hands, and I led her into the bathroom.
“Can you remove your clothing?” I asked, not wanting to push her in any way, shape, or form.
“Yes,” she muttered, her voice cracking from lack of use. She unbuttoned her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Her bra came next, as she carefully kept her arms crossed to cover herself. I twisted away, giving her some modicum of privacy.
“I would like to stay,” I said carefully. “I would like to care for you, to bathe you, if you will allow me.” The words were hard to utter. I didn’t know if this was the right call. It felt right. But it also felt like everything had changed. Had it changed? Or was it the same? Were we still the same Delilah and Ollie that we’d been only two hours ago? Had Reverend Jacob ruined everything we had beautifully and carefully built?
The silence in that bathroom was deafening as I waited for her reply. The shuffling of clothes, the ragged intake of breath. But no words.
“Delilah?” I asked quietly.
Another beat of silence. Then two.
“Stay.” I closed my eyes in thanks to her whispered word, willing the tears to stay away at the hope that overcame me.
I turned to her, paying no attention to her naked form as I carefully helped her into the steaming water. As soon as she was safely situated, I knelt behind the head of the tub, guiding her to lie back against the porcelain edge. Her body was rigid, stiff as a board.
Slowly, I bathed her, my hands tracing over the lines of her body in the least sexual manner imaginable. There was nothing but care in my touch. Care and love.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she mumbled quietly. I lathered shampoo into her hair gently, rubbing her scalp in small circles.
“What do you mean?” I didn’t want to press, but the fact that she was even talking at all had me wanting to either crumple to the floor in relief or doing a goddamn happy dance.
“I don’t know why I feel like this,” she admitted. Her voice was so timid, so small, and unsure, it nearly broke my heart. “Nothing bad happened.”
“Nothing — Nothing bad happened?! That’s ridiculous! Yes, it did, Delilah. I know you are a strong, amazing woman, but, Delilah, he degraded you. The way he spoke to you —”
“I was spoken to like I’ve been spoken to for most of my natural born life, Ollie,” she interjected. That shut me right the fuck up.
“Delilah, I’m so sorry for what you’ve gone through. I’m so sorry I even let him in here tonight. I —” my words choked back, nearly on a sob. Words failed me. I didn’t know what to say, how to make it better. Instead, we sat in silence. I rinsed her hair slowly, gently, her head tilted back as the water sluiced over her scalp, washing the suds away.
Her hand reached up, taking mine and pulling it down to her shoulder, where she turned her head and kissed the back of it.
“We have to do what we need to do to get through this. You have been fairly transparent from the beginning. Well, at least since you told me about the plan. This was never going to be easy. We all have to make sacrifices.” Her selflessness knew no bounds. My anger didn’t either, apparently.
“No one should ever be subjected to the atrocities you were tonight, love,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her wet hair. All I wanted to do was smother her in love, to erase any self-doubt that had infiltrated our safe space.
“Sacrifices, love,” she said. I could hear the small smile in her voice, and it warmed me.
