I reached up and felt a bandage on my forehead, the slight pressure of my fingers eliciting a gasp as I remembered the feel of her knuckles against my head.
It was Lori who hit me. Who drugged me.
“It was Lori,” I stated, looking at Sebastian who was waiting patiently while I worked through my hazy chaotic mind.
“She was at the Centre. And then her apartment. She gave me tea. I remember feeling sluggish. I think I fell,” I choked on a sob and Seb took both of my hands in his. “I thought I was going to die.”
“It’s okay, Marls. You’re safe, baby. We found you,” he stated, the emotion clear in his voice. “You and those damn sticky notes.”
“They’re literally life savers,” I explained, the humour missing from my response as the memories flooded through, quicker than I wanted.
“Seb…” my voice broke and he pulled me towards him, sitting on the side of the bed.
Lori’s living room came into focus, the sadistic lack of empathy in her eyes as she retold stories of times Lucas attacked me and she knew. How he told her about them. How she had also fallen victim to his aggression. How after I left he turned on her, and her parents, out of fear or apathy, did nothing. How she truly believed, in her own delusions, that forcing me back to Lucas would allow her to escape. My life for hers, she’d said with glee.
“I’m so sorry,” he soothed, holding me together when all I wanted was to fall apart. I felt entirely numb as Seb explained Lucas didn’t actually know Lori had been harassing me. How he defended her, would likely have done his best to make me stay, but wasn’t involved inthis.
The information was too much, the realisation that another person I once loved and trusted was willing to hurt me so deeply, too painful to reconcile.
Too, too, too.
“I’m here and I love you,” his reassurances wrapped around me like a warm, steady anchor, grounding me as my sadness threatened to pull me under. Despite the overwhelming pain of my memories, his words felt real. A lifeline I could grasp onto as I let myself believe, just maybe, I wouldn’t slip away under the weight of grief.
Again.
“I’m sorry, she’s like a bulldog,” Seb said as Arna came barreling into the room and lunged for me.
“Hey,” I huffed, the smell of apples and cinnamon bringing a smile to my face, “you smell divine.”
“You smell awful,” she replied with a grin, “but I’m here to shower you and I brought every product I own.”
“I love you,” I said, giving her pause, before her eyes filled with tears.
“You scared the crap out of me. And then this guy wouldn’t let me in,” she shot Seb a scowl which only made me laugh as he held his hands up defensively. “And Andy wouldn’t let me kill him. It was really inconvenient,” she said with a sniff before hugging me again.
“I’m sorry,” I answered, my eyes on Seb. “I’m sorry to you both. I should have told you both everything.”
“No arguments there but that doesn’t matter now,” Arna said. “We just love you and are so glad you're safe.”
I felt my cheeks flush, a reminder of Seb telling me he loved me like syrup oozing through my chest. I hadn’t said it back yet, but I felt it and I hoped he knew that.
“I know. Okay, help me up because I really do smell like something rotten and would absolutely love a shower.”
“I’m sure I could have managed,” Seb mumbled, lowering the railing on my bed.
Arna sighed resignedly, fatigue evident in the dark circles under her eyes. “You’re right,” she said softly, as if even admitting it was painful. “You are the only other person in this world who I truly believe loves her as much as I do, but she’s my best-friend,” she said with a quick glance towards me, her tears mirroring my own. “And I nearly lost her too. Please let me help.” She pleaded and even through the blurry haze of my eyes I saw Seb soften, his nod an acknowledgment of trust.
“I don’t care who showers me but if someone could please help me remove the smell of decay, I’d be grateful,” I joked, needing to lighten the mood, to break the cloud of guilt they were both feeling.
Seb helped me stand as Arns came around and put her arm around my waist, escorting me into the bathroom.
“Can’t believe I had to cry just to wash your arse. He must really love you,” she mumbled and an unexpected laugh bubbled out of me.
As I sat in the cold plastic chair of the hospital shower and Arna washed my hair while telling me about Felicity and Jay’s latest argument in the waiting room, I felt warm. A warmth which reminded me despite everything I’d lost, I was going to be okay, because I was surrounded by the most amazing group of people who I loved and loved in me return. A healthy love full of reliability and trust. And that was all that mattered.
After my final check up, Seb went to check me out of the hospital. I needed monitoring for the next two weeks while I recovered from the nasty head knock – which required six stitches, and while Arna was a worthy opponent, she was no match for Sebastian.
I would be staying with him.
