Page 92 of Bartholomew
“I’m just sorry he ruined our safe space,” I admitted, my heart clenching in sadness, anger, and more.
“Hey, he didn’t ruin our safe space,” she assured me. There was that enormous heart of hers again, reassuring me when she was the one who had been chopped down like a fucking tree.
“Sure as fuck feels like it to me,” I grumbled. My hands ran over her soft skin, the water making the journey slick and silky. I couldn’t get enough of her.
“I just don’t know why I feel this way. Nothing he said was new. Nothing should have phased me…” she trailed off in thought. My arms wrapped around her, not giving a single fuck that my sleeves were now drenched in the bubbly water. I needed her closeness. I needed her to feel my support and love as much as possible.
“Because things are different now, love,” I whispered near her ear. Her hands grasped the place where my arms met in front of her, clinging to me.
“They really are.” Her voice cracked with the sound of unshed tears. “You tore down my walls, Ollie. You tore them down and gave me this safe place. And then he came in and said —” Her voice choked back on a sob, the tears streaming down her face and dotting the backs of my hands. Gently, I released my hold on her, pressing against her upper back until she sat forward.
And I stepped into the bathtub behind her, clothes and all.
“Ollie! What are you—” she nearly screeched in surprise.
“Shh, love. Right now, you need care and I’ll be damned if something as silly as wet clothes is going to stop me.” I pulled her back into me, wrapping her up in my arms and vowing to never let go.
“I just can’t… I can’t…” her words trailed off again, but the tears no longer fell.
“Can’t what? I’m right here. I’ve got you,” I soothed softly. I didn’t caress her body. Wrapping my arms around her, I let her head fall against my shoulder and simply held her.
She pulled away from me. Without her body next to mine, I shivered, feeling cold and hollow. She turned awkwardly in the bathtub until she faced me. The water sloshed over the sides. Not that I cared.
Taking my hands in hers, she spoke, “I can’t get his words out of my head, Ollie. That hasn’t happened since I was a small child. I’ve always been able to put on that brave face; to grin and bear the ridicule and the slander. But not right now. I can’t get those damn… fucking… words out of my head.” The curse hissed through her clenched teeth, like her own body was rebelling against the very thought. I squeezed her hands gently in my own before bringing each up to my lips to kiss softly.
“Then let me erase those words. Let me replace them with my own words. Would you let me do that?” I asked. Every cell in my body stood poised in wait for her answer; for the ability to do something, anything!
Her eyes looked up, wide with equal amounts of hope and hopelessness. It was the final straw as my heart broke for her; with her.
“Would you?” she asked me. My mouth went dry; the words I wanted to say disappearing like a mirage in a desert. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to wax poetic about the feelings I had for her. But now was not the right time.
“I would do anything, love. Anything at all. And right now, I would love nothing more than to show you exactly what it is I see when I look at you,” I answered honestly, letting my feelings come forward just enough for this tender moment. “Come with me.”
I stood, the water cascading off of me in rivulets as my drenched clothes struggled to hold in so much liquid. I stepped out of the tub carefully, holding my hand out to aid her. Grabbing a fluffy towel from the rack, I slowly dried her off. Small dabs of the towel here, a swipe there. Carefully removing every droplet of water from her soft, silky skin. I pressed kisses against her warm flesh, soft kisses that I could only hope conveyed how much I cared for her.
Shucking off my own sopping wet clothing, I tossed them into the emptying tub to handle later and made quick work of drying off.
“Ollie,” she stopped me as I grabbed a pair of boxers from my dresser. I turned, looking at her with an eyebrow cocked in question. “I don’t know what I need,” she stammered.
“You can have anything you wish,” I reiterated, giving her the reassurance she was looking for.
“No, no,” she tried again, holding her hand up to me. “I don’t know if I need Ollie… or if I need Daddy,” she admitted with a brilliant blush.
“Okay, that’s a fair point. Right now, do you want someone else to be in control? To handle everything? Or do you want to keep some of that control? Do you want it to be playful, or do you want something different?” I tried to word my line of questioning in a way to help her formulate an answer that suited where she was at. I had no fucking idea where her brain or her soul were at currently. If it were me, I would still be crumpled up, a mess on the floor downstairs. But this strong, incredible woman stood before me, wrapped in a fluffy towel, with all the courage of a warrior on the battlefield. She was incredible. She was breathtaking.
“I think I need Ollie. As much as I love our playtime, I don’t want to play right now. I want something real, something true,” she spoke confidently, though her brows furrowed as she tried to extrapolate exactly what her needs were and then communicate them clearly. Fuck, I loved her.
“Then Ollie, you shall have. Ollie, you shall always have,” I vowed. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her my truth. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her lips softly, sweetly, until she melted beneath my touch. I wanted her relaxed and calm. I needed to take away every word Reverend Jacob had said.
“You have a seat there on the bed while I get things prepared,” I explained, turning towards the door.
“Just here? In my towel?” she asked.
“Yup, just there in your towel. I’ll be right back.” I dashed down to the hall closet, where I had an old standing mirror. One I had planned on moving into this room for her but hadn’t gotten around to. It stood on its own frame; oval shaped with intricate carvings into the wood. Malachi had found it at an estate sale several weeks ago and had refinished it for me. So much for that wedding gift. It had completely slipped my mind in the wake of all the chaos that was a Zion wedding.
Carrying it awkwardly into the bedroom, I set it in front of the wall where there was a large amount of floor space.
“What’s that for?” she asked quietly.
