The Virgins Guide to a Happy Life

35-One slice too deep

On the ground of the bathroom floor, with bleeding legs and a bottle of Hennesy is where Terrance found me that night. He reached home sometime after 9 and after I had forced my family out, I had sent him a quick text telling him that I was going to bathe then sleep. I obviously lied but I didn't want him fretting over something I couldn't change.

"Shit." He whispered as he opened the bathroom door. I looked up at him and smiled a lazy smile. He took off his shirt and then his pants and he then made his way over to me. He stooped down on my right and watched my thighs as they bled out on the bathroom floor. He picked up the bottle of Hennesy and I grabbed the razor that was not far from my foot. "Gwyn." Slow words, as though he was trying to coerce a scared animal.

"Ter." It was a slur that left my lips.

"Give me the razor."

"Give me the bottle." I giggled. I didn't know what was funny at the time but my mind told me this was funny. He looked as though he was trying to find the lesser of two evils and handed me back the bottle. I dropped the razor and took a swig of the bottle. A long gulp that had some falling out the sides of my mouth. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of the hot liquid going down my throat and into my stomach. The numbing feeling that overcame my body had me pulling my head back further against the wall.

"What's wrong?" He asked me softly and I turned my lazy eyes unto him. I leaned my body closer to his and made a move for his lips. He caught me quickly and held me at arms length. "Gwyn." He voice was stern and my head started pounding. I allowed my head to lull to the left and his grip on my shoulders tightened. "What happened?" His voice was rougher as he attempted to help me to my feet. I gripped unto his hands and let out a whimper as the shift caused more blood to drip out of my thigh. He led me to the bathtub where he sat me down and brought out a wash cloth from the side of the tub to clean my leg.

"No!" I screamed at him.

"What? Why?" He asked stunned at my reaction to him wanting to clean my wounds.

"Let me bleed. Let me die." I whimpered as the first of the tears left my eyes. I couldn't think clearly, I couldn't function properly; all I knew was that I wanted to die. He stared at me confused.

"Why would you want to die?" He asked as he placed the cloth on the rim of the tub.

"No body cares about me." I hiccuped.

"I care. Baby, I care. You matter to me." He climbed into the tub and sat opposite me. His legs came around to wrap around me and pull me closer to him. The tears were falling from my eyes without my permission. I continued to bleed all over the tub as Terrance pulled me to him and held my body against his.

"Life sucks." I hiccuped again. I let out a belch that had my head throbbing and I placed my head on his chest.

"What happened?"

"My stupid family happened." I pouted. "Coming here, telling me about war like I give a damn about war. They ruined me. They sold me. They killed me." I sniffled a bit but I didn't lift my head from his chest.

"Gwyn, things would work out. They always work out." I felt his lips against my head.

"Of course you would say that. You're successful. You live your own life." A next hiccup. I felt him take a breath.

"But I had struggles." His hands tightened. I looked up at him and stared into his eyes.

"Tell me." 

"You aren't in the right frame-" I cut him off.

"I'm not drunk. Slightly buzzed, tipsy. But not drunk." He hesitated. "You need a drink." I was about to pull away to reach for the bottle and probably slip on my blood on the floor and die but he grabbed my hands keeping me in my place.

"Gwyn, my story is no happy story."

"Tell me, I should know already." I hiccupped. His words shut me up.

"My father raped my mother. I was a product of rape. My mother tried aborting me and it didn't go through. She gave me away to her sister when I was born and I lived with her in Jamaica till I was 12 then I moved back to Trinidad. My aunt died the year after and I went to live with my mother, only to find out she married a guy and had two kids, Malique and April. She forgot about me. She had no intention of me coming back in her life. I was a reminder of a weakness for her, of something she allowed to happen. I went to live with my father for 3 years until Thea was born then I went to live with her and Chris.

"I can't say Chris and I had a very good relationship, but we stayed out of each other's hair. Four years living there and mother reveals that Malique wasn't Chris' child. He was a child of the man who raped her and impregnated her and she gave away that child because she couldn't live with him. She had another child with this man and she adored him. I had already gotten into Jamaica to do physio and I was unbothered. I came to live with her because Thea and April wanted me to.

"Chris stopped staying there when I moved in. Ever since he moved out she's been trying to control my life to the best of her ability. Everything, down to who I was going to marry." He stopped and pulled my head back up to look at him.

His words knocked the alcohol right out of me. I reached out for the cloth and started wiping at my cuts.

"T, I'm sorry. Jesus that's horrible."

"I don't need sympathy. It's been too long for sympathy. I just want you to know I understand how it feels to feel unwanted and I don't want you to ever feel like that. Not while you're with me, not while we're together, in this marriage, because we want to be. Because it's you and me against the world, and as long as you have me, I got you."