“Don’t call me that. Don’t ever—” My words cut away as I choked on the tar, the wave crashing into me. I wondered how many waves were left. One? Ten? A thousand? How many hits would it take for me to get over what he’d done. Would I ever?
I closed my eyes as he worked, not fighting as the tears slipped free. The first time I’d lost him had felt violent, a vicious evisceration. This was different. This was deeper.
Alfie said nothing as he slowly released me and when my hair was finally free, he reached for the shower head to wash my hair. I should stop him, I should scream at him and send him packing but I was beyond that now. I didn’t want us to scream and fight anymore. It didn’t help.
With care and precision only Alfie Tell could deliver, he washed my hair. Silent as I cried, sobs drowned out by the sound of the water. By the time he was finished, my sobs had finally slowed.
We were quiet for a while. I needed him to go and I needed him to stay. Just when I thought I might snap and throw him out, he finally spoke.
“We didn’t break, Lo. I thought we would, but we’re still in one piece.”
I hated that he was right, I marvelled at it too. I hadn’t known I was this strong. This was hurting, it would hurt for a long time yet, but it wasn’t going to shatter me, not like last time.
I turned to face him. I wouldn’t be the coward that couldn’t look him in the eye. My heart constricted at the sight of tears staining his cheeks. He’d cried with me, with sorrow over the pain he’d caused me.
I sat in the tub, the bubbles so thick they hid me from view. His hands gripped the edge of the bath, knuckles white with the effort of keeping himself from touching me. His bandage was soaked, a drop of blood showing.
A part of me hated what I was about to do, but I was a person that could only ever do what came naturally. I reached for his hand. I saw pain in his eyes, white hot and searing. He was hurting more than me. I hadn’t realised it until then, but it was true. His actions had always been more painful for him than for me.
Carefully, I unravelled the soaked bandage, revealing three small stitches along the back of his hand. The bleeding had already stopped. I stroked a gentle finger over the wound, evidence of the damage he’d done to us.
I didn’t bother to hold back the sob that rose in my throat. He pressed his forehead to mine and I let him give me this intimacy, this comfort that soothed the part of me he’d hurt so deeply.
He held me in that silence, barely touching me and when another tear rolled down my cheek, he kissed it away.
Eventually, when it felt easier to breathe, I pulled away. I knew I looked like hell, dark circles around my eyes and my face puffy from crying, but he looked at me like I was beautiful.
It would be so easy to sweep this away like I used to do. But I couldn’t. There were no shortcuts through this kind of pain. You had to face each and every ugly corner of it, mend the broken parts and hope at the end what you had was still functioning.
I lifted my chin, facing Alfie head on. “So, talk.”
“The cameras.”
I closed my eyes. Just the thought of them disgusted me.
“I want you to know they’ve been removed, every single one of them.”
I didn’t respond. Was I supposed to say thank you?
“I want you to know that I never filmed private moments. There were no cameras in any bathrooms, I never watched you dressing or…anything else.”
I opened my eyes, seeing the truth in his face. I felt some relief, not completely but some. At least I still had some dignity intact but it didn’t erase what he’d done.
“Is this the part where you justify what you did? Where you make it make sense? Go ahead, Alfie. Make it make sense. Make me understand how you could do that after what Adam did to me.” My voice cracked over the words and I didn’t bother trying to hide it.
“There’s no justifying what I did.” He touched the braided ribbon on his wrist, his thumb stroking over it the way I did with my mum’s necklace. The action tugged on the shrapnel in my chest, but it didn’t pull me to forgive him.
“All I can tell you is that when I had them put in place, I was in my darkest time. You know what a twisted man I was back then.” I watched him try to find the right words. I wondered how many times he’d rehearsed this speech. “In the beginning, I convinced myself that they were to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“From the same reason that you needed kidnap and ransom insurance. I know you never think about the realities of my life, but being connected with me puts you in a vulnerable position. In the beginning, I told myself it would just be a security team. They’d follow you, just in case and you’d never know. It escalated from there.” He swallowed, the motions of his throathypnotising to me. Even after all this time, it was still so hard not to get lost in looking at him. Such a dangerous beauty. “It was just one camera, then another, then another…”
I stared at him, trying to wrap my mind around what he was telling me but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to understand, understanding was condoning and condoning meant he might do it again.
“They were an addiction formed by a broken man. They kept me sane while we were apart and when you came back into my life I knew I should stop them but I was too scared. They were my safety net, just in case I lost you again.”
I felt the weight of his stare, deep and scrutinising. Searching for what? Forgiveness? Hope? I wondered what he saw on my face. Pain? Anger? Or was I the soulless statue he’d once been?