Page 53 of Bound By Threads
Too dirty.
Too broken.
I press my lips together so hard they sting. My lungs burn, and my heartbeat is a riot in my chest.
Pain.
He hadme against the floor, his breath thick with the smell of whiskey, the carpet digging into my cheek. The room shrouded in darkness, but the small sliver of light that came through the drawn curtains.
The world lost all color, and the sound of my heartbeat was so loud it drowned out the vile words he whispered in my ear.
That night doesn’t have words.
It has screams, pleading, and blood… so much blood.
Emma doesn’t say anything else. She reaches out and places a box of tissues closer to me on the table, careful not to touch me, and then picks up her phone.
“Lottie needs to be collected today…”
I can hear the raised voice over the line from here, even if I didn’t see Emma’s flinch. Not Claire, then.
I don’t knowhow long I sit here counting.
Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two?—
“Lottie?”
Archer.
The silence stretches. “Can you give us some privacy?” Archer snaps.
Emma leaves, and I breathe.
Fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one?—
“Baby, you’re scaring me…” Archer’s hand cups my cheek, pulling my face to look into his brown eyes. “I’m here.”
His thumb wipes away a stray tear. His touch is careful, like I might break if he isn’t. He’s always known how to read me, even when I feel too lost in my memories.
I blink slowly, vision swimming. “I can’t.” My voice cracks.
His jaw flexes like he’s holding something back, something sharp and angry that he’s not going to direct at me. “Then you don’t.” He swallows, eyes searching mine. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you do, you aren’t alone. Not ever.”
I nod, even though I don’t believe it.
I was alone. Discarded by people who were supposed to love me.
His hands rest on my knees, and his thumb strokes softly over my jeans. “Talk to me, please.”
I can’t. Not yet. Not ever. So instead, I lean forward and press my forehead to his, closing my eyes and focusing on the steady beat of his breath. In. Out. In. Out. Maybe if I sync mine with his, I can find my way back to the surface.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I’ve always got you. I’ll sit here in the dark with you for as long as you need.”
Something breaks loose in me. A sob claws up my throat, and before I can stop it, I’m falling forward into his arms. Archer catches me like he always does, pulling me tight against him, his arms wrapping around my shoulders like he can physically hold the pieces of me together.
“I don’t want to remember,” I choke out. “It was easier to pretend it didn’t happen. That I was Lottie and not Scarlett, and that maybe if I pretended I was her, then it didn’t happen.”
“You don’t have to pretend anymore. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to fall apart. You don’t have to be okay for anyone else.”
