Page 9 of Hearts Etched in Glass
My thoughts begin to spiral as I try to regain my breathing from the panic of guilt and stupidity.
I’m a terrible fiancé and a terrible daughter.
My thoughts collide within my soul as I go to my room and silently shut the door, the sounds of the shower settling behind me in contrast to the raging war erupting in my mind.
Bobby deserves better than me.
I put that man through so much hell and now this. I’m a colossal failure to my parents. Forcing myself to sit on the wooden floor of my bedroom, I huddle between my nightstand and the door. I cup my hands over my ears, trying to breathe out the pressure building within me.
It needs to be released. It beckons me.
I whimper to myself as I try to fight the thoughts, but my demons have grabbed hold of my logic and self-worth and shoved them deep down into a cavern I cannot reach.
So, I crawl to my nightstand and with a shaky breath, I retrieve my blade. A blade I’ve had for as long as I can remember. My tiny sinful secret. It has helped me ease the pressure and strain that I had felt as a child being bombarded by judgment and cruelty at the hands of my parents. It helped me release the pressure building within me and let its cry out with my blood.
That is all I need.
One cut.
Just one cut to release the pressure, the pain, the strain of the things I cannot be, to those that I hold responsibilities to.
I settle my back against the wall and clean off a portion of my thigh with an alcohol swab. Then ready my gauze beside my leg. I draw in a steady breath, anticipation building within me as my hand begins to tremble. When I begin to make a cut, the door to my room creaks open. Clenching my molars, the breath catches in my throat as I guiltily turn my head. Bobby’s handsome face comes into view.
Terror slides down my spine as I watch his eyes assess my thigh and then the blade in my hand. Cocking his head, curiosity paints his features.
He knows now. Heknowsand he shall despise me and find me to be unworthy. I shall be labeled as damaged goods, then tossed aside for someone not as deranged.
I wait for the impact with each anticipating beat of my heart.
I wait for the judgment and yelling but am met with Bobby calmly entering my room. He throws his jacket onto the adjacent seat and lays beside me on the floor.
“Sothatis what those are?” He asks with such nonchalance it sparks anger inside me, for I was ready to argue. I was ready to be embarrassed, scolded and shunned. Notthis. How do I react to this?
He slides one tantalizing finger over a healed cut along my thigh. “I thought these were stretch marks.”
I shove his hand off me. “No, you idiot! Stretch marks? All this time together and you thought stretchmarks? They are scars. All of them!” Then I lift my skirt up to expose the tops of my thighs, exposing my past. My shame. My sins and deepest vulnerabilities.
Bobby cocks an eyebrow but stays calm. “Who did this to you?”
Narrowing my eyes at him I retort, “Me, you idiot.”
“But, why?” he asks with such innocence it pisses me off even more to the point I break. Tears begin to stream down my face, I try to catch them with my forearm.
“I did it, because I hate myself, Bobby. Even though I wear this happy mask every fucking day, the demons' claw at my insecurities. No matter any happy moments, the pressure builds and builds. I hide my need to release all this pressure inside,” I explain while gesturing at my thighs. “I’m not good enough. I’m not a doctor like my brothers. I am too fat, unintelligent and frumpy for my parents. For Christ’s sake I just ogled your best mate after I assaulted him with my uniform full of spew!”
Bobby continues to stare, propping his head on his hand as he comfortably lays next to me, stretching out his legs. His eyes are so full of admiration and love that I can’t help but react by snapping at him.
“You’re just lusting after me! You know that right? An infatuation you will wake up to resent and dismiss one day, when I get old and wrinkly! Become an inconvenience. When you realize you deserve better!” My chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. I look completely exasperated, arms strung outward, still grasping the knife. My frustration is met with Bobby’s sardonic grin.
“Let me tell you something my love. When I thought they killed you, something died inside me. If it wasn’t for you calling me during my drugged stupor, I would have taken my life.” The sardonic smile melts from his face as his eyes darken. “Tilly, for fuck’s sake. I’ve told you since the day I met you I wanted to marry you. You are the woman for me.Thewoman. I love you.I need you. I can’t exist in this universe without you, for you are the gravity keeping me grounded to this God forsaken world. Your smile. Your laugh. Your light. I take you no matter how you are. Scars. Anger. Fuck if you lost a legor eye, I would still want you. I would be honored to take care of you!”
Pressing my palms into my eye sockets, I sniffle. “You don’t understand how they make me feel. How life makes me feel. I’m so much less than and I’ll never be as brilliant as my brothers. I’m never good enough.”
He chuffs at me, “Darling they don’t matter. For you should only care for howImake you feel, and I love you, fiercely. They do not matter.”
“But—” Bobby moves, cutting me off and crouching next to me, grasping my wrist and pulling the knife towards his inner arm.
“Enough,” he demands. "Cut me."
