Page 61 of Break Point
“She’s soaking wet,” Henry says, my eyes feeling heavy again. I’m awake but don’t feel like resisting the urge to shut them again. “You need to get her out of these clothes.”
“Follow me.”
Next thing I know, I’m lying down on Gemma’s bed and she’s pulling my skirt off.
“Come on, Belén. Help me get these clothes off of you.” She yanks my arms and settles me into a seated position, and I lift them up to help her pull my T-shirt off.
“Okay,” Gemma says, her voice breathy and slightly agitated. She sits behind me, removes the necklaces, and unhooks my bra. I toss it to the side, and Gemma slides a fresh T-shirt over my head. I pull it down my body and curl up into a fetal position. “Wait. We’re not done yet. We need to get these pajama bottoms on you.”
“No.”
All I want is to go back to sleep.
“Belén, come on.” Gemma’s slipping a pair of cozy socks on my feet. “Cooperate.”
“I’m fine like this.”
“Well, at least get under the covers. I don’t want you to catch a cold or something. Come on. Henry’s outside waiting to come in.” I can feel her pulling on the covers, so I crawl inside her bed and lay my head on the comfy pillows. “There you go … Henry! She’s decent now!”
The door opens and shuts behind me, and when I open my eyes, Henry’s standing next to the bed, holding a glass of water. “Take these.” There are two white pills in his hand. “Come on, sit up.”
His coach voice pays a visit and takes over. He sounds harsh and commanding, but I comply and drop my head on the pillows again after downing the pills with water.
“I’m going to shower in my parents’ bedroom,” Gemma says to Henry. “I left you a fresh T-shirt and sweatpants in my bathroom. They’re my father’s, so I don’t know how well they will fit. But I suggest you change out of those wet clothes.”
“Thank you, Gemma, but it won’t be necessary,” Henry says. “I’m leaving.”
No!
“It’s cold and pouring out. Vlad can drive you home, but don’t be stubborn. Get changed, okay?” she insists. “At least keep an eye on her until I come back.”
Henry doesn’t reply. He’s breathing beside me, but not responding to Gemma’s petition to stay with me for a bit.
“I don’t—,” I say, but I’m too exhausted to finish the sentence. I want to argue with Henry, tell him I don’t need a babysitter, so if he wants to leave so badly, he should leave, when the sad truth is, I don’t want him to go.
“See?” Gemma says, probably gesturing toward me with her upturned palm to make a point. “Please, Henry. I won’t be long.”
The door shuts, and I pull my hand out, hoping Henry will take it. He does, but only for a second. “I’ll be right back,” he says with a sigh, releasing my hand from his grasp. “I’m going to change out of these clothes because I’m scared of what Gemma will do if I don’t.”
I smile and move my head up and down to wordlessly reply,yes.
“Are you okay?”
“Mhm.”
I force myself to stay awake, even with my eyes closed, while Henry disappears into the bathroom to change. Minutes later, he steps back into the room. I open my eyes and find him squatting beside the bed, his face level with mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
For bringing me here. For carrying me upstairs. For taking care of me.
I know he understands.
I reach for his hand again, and this time he lets me. I pull it closer and place it under my cheek like a pillow.
The soft glow from Gemma’s nightstand lamp lights up Henry’s perfect face.
I can’t look away.
