Page 134 of Misery
A test maybe, or she’s so burnt out with everything that’s happened and doesn’t care anymore.
I watch because I'm weak, because she's beautiful, because this might be the last time if she doesn’t forgive me.
The curve of her spine. The bruises still healing on her ribs.
"Stop looking at me like that," she says, pulling on the jeans.
"Like what?"
"Like you're memorizing me. Like you're saying goodbye."
"Aren't I?"
She pauses, sweater half on. "I don't know. Are you?"
"That's your choice."
"No. It'sourchoice. If there's going to be an us, we both have to choose it. Every day. Even with all of the craziness going on."
"I choose you. Every day. Always."
"Even if I can never fully trust you?"
"Yes."
"Even if I can't forget that you watched me like some weirdo for months?"
"Of course"
"Even if?—"
I kiss her this time. Soft, careful. A question, not a demand.
She melts into it for a moment, her body knowing mine, fitting against me perfectly.
Then she pulls back. "We should see my father."
Ivar's propped up in bed, looking better but still hurting.
His wrapped hand rests on the blanket, the missing fingers obvious.
He watches us enter, notes the distance between us.
"Oskar," he says.
"Sir."
"You watched my daughter for almost eight months now."
"Yes."
"Without her knowledge."
"Yes."
"And now?"
"Now I… protect her, if she allows it."
