Stained ~ Book Three Of The "Meant To Be" Series

Chapter 2

"Why are you home so early?" Asks Tobias, putting down bags filled with groceries and his keys. He approaches me slowly kissing the top of my head.
"I— em, I was kinds drifting off at work . . . They told me I had the day off since I seemed so tired," I say with a hint of laughter, shaking my head at my stupidity, trying not to make a big deal out of it. He sits next to me, placing his arm on my waist, making me slightly jump for no reason.
"Drifting off?" He repeats, choosing to ignore my earlier reaction to our skin contact. "Did you get enough sleep last night?" He asks, turning at me, scanning my face and the way I'll respond.
"Eh— kinda. Not really," I sigh. "Em, after you woke me up I tried to go back to sleep but I ended up staying up for another two hours or so," I lie, blaming him for not getting enough sleep and feeling guilty afterwards. It was the first thing that came to my mind.
"Oh," he says blankly, "I'm really sorry. I was concerned . . . You know, I thought you were crying in your sleep, or having a nightmare, or something like that. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
"No-no, I didn't mean it like that. I would of woken you up, too. It's totally fine," I assure him, smiling and giving a little nod. The corners of his mouth lift and he stares at me for a few seconds. He pulls me closer and closes his eyes, sighing and pressing his lips on mine softly. His hand moves down my spine and I force myself not to react by jumping or wincing this time. I let out a shaky breath, tightening my muscles so Tobias won't notice I'm shaking.
What is wrong with me? Why am I acting this way?
I kiss back, placing my hand on the side of his face and daring myself to approach him more and more. The fact that my whole body trembles is probably noticeable, but we both choose to ignore it as we push things further.
His hand slides under my shirt, touching my bare skin, making me gulp. "I love you so much," he slightly pulls back from the kiss as he whispers it and leans in again. He starts to pull my shirt up. Without noticing, I immediately pull back. My heart beats unbelievably fast and I pant. Tobias stares at me confused.
"I'm sorry," he says, having literally no reason to say so.
"No," I sigh, closing my eyes and shaking my head. "I– It's just–" my voice breaks. He sits straighter, tucking strands of my hair behind my ears, cupping my face in his hands.
"It's all right," he pecks my lips once more. "I understand," though he doesn't, and neither do I. He's just comforting me. I haven't acted this for ages. Things have been completely normal. I didn't have any problem with being intimate with him for so long that I've totally forgot how horribly bad it makes me feel when I react this way.
I know he's wondering about the same thing as I. He's probably also wondering if he was the one that did something wrong without noticing (which he didn't).
"I was thinking about it, you know, earlier . . . It still makes me–"
"Tris, it's okay," he says, a soft smile forming his lips.
"Later," I say, leaning my body on his and trying to relax. We stay silent for a while, but then I start our usual conversation. "How was work today?"
      "Not that great," he starts off. "We spent all day trying to find evidence of the latest murder but we found nothing at all. We'll need more cops this time, split up and searching everywhere. It's a bit stressful and all," he says.
      "Oh," I give my head a little nod. We don't talk about his job much. Horrible things are happening nonstop all over the country. I don't have the heart to listen to everything.
"I was also offered a new job . . ." He says quieter. "I'm not supposed to speak of it much though," he adds. I look at him, and by the unhappy look on his face my excitement fades away.
"What is it?" I ask. He has one of the highest job in the police department. I'm curious to know what they offered him this time.
"They asked me to work for the CIA," he says and I grin, sitting straighter and furrowing my eyebrows.
"You're kidding," I say, through my smile.
"But I think I'm gonna turn it down," he says, making my bright look go to confused. "I'd be having frequent trips around the U.S. More working hours. It would be harder for our family. Things would get messy, you'd get stressed, so would I . . ."
"Tobias, you can't put down such an amazing job offer," I say truthfully. "You should take it. Don't worry about me and the kids. We'll be fine. And you would be home most of the time, right? A week or two away from us is worth having this honorable job," I end up smiling at the end, being reminded of how amazing he is at what he does.
He stays silent for a moment, letting my words sink in. "I'll think about it," he says. I sigh happily, lying back in the position I was. "We'll have to pick Mason and Cassie up. Do you want me to go get them? You should rest."
      "No-no, it's fine. I can come too," I say, desperate not to be left alone, wanting to keep my mind off everything.
      "You look really tired. Maybe you're getting the flue. I think it's best for you to stay home and sleep. I'll wake you up after dinner's ready, okay?" He says and I sigh closing my eyes and nodding. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he adds and pecks my lips once more before leaving.
       Here I am. Alone again. I start thinking that a shower would be good. Maybe it'd bring me back to my senses and make me realize how amazingly our life is going. Showers are always where I put my thoughts together.
      Scars from the past still stain my body. Cuts, bruises. They have faded with time, but they're still there. Still visible. They irritate me every time I see them, lowering my confidence. Even when I wear skirts, I always feel self conscious when people ask me how I got those marks. "I was an energetic child," I laugh it off.
      But my wrists are what makes me so uncomfortable in front of others. Every time people see my hands and the scars on them, I feel like they can no longer look at me with anything else but pity. But it's winter now. Long sleeves are always a life saver, and it's the only thing I like about cold weather.
      I stare at my wrists wonder of how I could feel pleasure from cutting ku flesh. From bleeding. And wonder what if it still pleased me? It's curiosity what urges me to try it again. One last time.
      I take one of my razor blades I keep away from Cassie's or Mason's reach, so they won't accidentally hurt themselves with it. I stare at my hands and the razor blade for a few minutes, wondering if I should try it once again. A part of me tells me no, but a part of me wants to know how it feels now, and dares me to try it. I shut my eyes tightly press the razor against my skin, sliding it horizontally and yelping from the stinging pain. Blood starts dripping down my arm, staining the bathroom carpets and my sleeve. I curse under my breath, turning the water on, panicking and wiping the blood from my forearm. I cut deeper than I intended. The water burns my wrist, making me groan quietly. I cover the cut with toilet paper. Lots of toilet paper and bend to the ground, grabbing the little bathroom carpet and washing it with freezing water and rubbing it soap. The color has faded a little and isn't that noticeable, but blood stains no matter how much you wash it. I blink my tears away, trying not to cry.
      Tobias and the kids will be here any minute. I mustn't do anything stupid. I take the toilet paper off my hand, shocked by how much blood I've lost and throw it in the garbage, trying to hide it well under Mason's used diapers, so Tobias won't notice them when he takes out the trash.