Bruises

Home Sweet Home

As soon as we got through the door of Tré's house I went straight to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and sat on the lid on the toilet. I often did this to cry so that the running water would cover my sobs. I sat there, trying to force myself to cry, wanting to feel something to let the pain out, but I felt numb. I sat in silence, listening to the water hit the cold shower floor and slowly felt the hot water warming the room. It was surprisingly cold in the house seeing as no one had been there for a few days.
There was a gentle knock at the door after a few minutes and I slowly got up to answer it.
Tré was looking sympathetically at me and I looked back at him. We shared a comfortable silence, staring at each other for a few seconds before he hugged me. I imidiatly felt the sobs erupt from my chest and I wrapped my arms tightly around him.

"It's okay, Bill, it's all over. You're safe. You're free."
That only made me cry harder and he shushed me, stroking the back of my head.
"It's okay. Get cleaned up and we'll order takeaway and watch a film."

I nodded, overwhelmed with the relief that I didn't have to see Olivia ever again.
He let me go when my breathing calmed and looked at me.
"I'll order Pizza so it'll be here when you get out. I'll have a bath downstairs while you wash."
He left me to it and I locked the door.

It was amazing how much better I felt after my shower. I felt cleansed of all the guilt, fear and sadness I'd been feeling over the past few months which had been clinging to me, digging their ugly claws in until I could hardly face the world. But I was free now... and it felt great.

I put on some fresh clothes and went to see Tré. The pizza was already here, which made me wonder how long I'd been in the shower for, and he was sitting on the sofa with made few cans of beer.
"What film?"
He smiled warmly when he saw me. I smiled back and sat down. "Let's just see what's on TV." I suggested, more interested in staying with him than what film we watched.
"Okay."

We sat eating our pizza watching some program about cars for about half an hour before Tré got bored and put on a movie instead; action, of course.
We settled on the sofa, finished eating and feeling better now our stomachs were full, and I leaned my head on Tré's shoulder. He shuffled back to let me lean on him more and I brought my legs up to lay diagonally across the sofa-my head now more laying on his collar bone than on his shoulder-and he took my hand in his.
"Tré?" I asked quietly.

"What is it, Bill?"

"I'm... I'm really sorry."

"For what?"

"Dragging you into all this. If I hadn't told you about it and stayed with you, none of this-"

He moved so that he could look me in the eye and the sparkling pools were serious.
"Don't say that-dont even think it-not for one second. I wanted to help. That's not your fault, none of this is your fault, okay? This was her fault and I'm glad I got involved, because who knows where you'd be now if I didn't. I mean it, Billie. Don't you dare feel guilty for any of this, because I don't blame anything on you."
His firm expression showed that he was speaking the truth and I blinked away the tears of relief that were threatening to show themselves. I smiled thinly to show that I understood and his stern features relaxed.
"Now come here and stop being a drama queen." He teased, pulling me against the back of the sofa and hugging me so tight that I thought I might suffocate.

"Stop!" I wheezed through struggled laughter "stop! I'm gonna die!"
He chuckled and let me go, letting me return to my previous position. I nuzzled into his neck and i could almost hear the smile in his soft breaths.

"You're okay now. We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be... happy."

"I know." I closed my eyes. I bet he knew full well that I'd fall asleep, but I still felt a wave of guilt seeing as we were only 5 minutes into the film.

"You can sleep if you want." He rubbed the top of my arm, holding me closer to his body.
As if that somehow gave my body permission, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and I drifted off.