Breaking The Grey [Book #2]

Chapter 31

Allie

I let the shower water run down my skin. The steam is unclogging my nose. Mya insisted that we spend the night. She said I'm too in distress and North doesn't look so good herself either. I totally fucked up dinner. I made an ass of myself and I made an ass of North.

I didn't eat at the table with them. I made North give me some space. I didn't eat yet at all actually. I lost my appetite a while ago. My stomach is full of anxiousness and anger, the worst meals of all.

I'm conscious of my stitches. I've got them wet once already, but I don't want to take the chance again so I'm not directly under the water head. I roll my shoulders and break it down in my head like some sort of investigation.

Helena Samson: victim of domestic violence. Too afraid to leave? Couldn't leave? Alcohol consumption comes into play eventually, but when?

Jay Samson: Shit head, homophobic, abusive father and lover. Why?

Two knocks on the door wipe my thoughts away, but before I could say anything the door already creaked open. I already know it's North so it's okay.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

I can see her silhouette on the shower curtain. She's standing there, but I can't tell where she's looking.

I spoke softly, "Yeah. I'm okay."

"Maliah said she'll be willing to meet with you tomorrow when we come home. It'll be a little later than normal, but ... it's okay." She said.

"Sounds great."

"C-Can I join you? Or do you still want some space?"

I raise my eyebrow and shrug. She didn't need to ask. I know we probably won't have sex and to be honest I'm not entirely in the mood, but being naked with North is motivation at its best.

"Of course." I answered.

I turn away from her silhouette and wait for her to join me. I roll my shoulders listening to her shuffle around. It's hard to be upset and isolated when you're in love because all you can think about is that person. It makes you feel better knowing that someone is there ready to hold you in their arms and do anything they can to make you feel better.

I hear the curtain crinkle and I feel her presence behind me. She pushes her chest against my back and holds my hips. She's warm and it feels good. Her lips peck my back softly.

I sighed, looking down at the drain, "I ruined dinner."

"No, you didn't," She said. "It's not your fault."

"I don't know what happened. It felt like I was somewhere else. Like I was asleep and dreaming, but I couldn't help it. My body just reacted. I didn't have control."

"Some people react to memories, especially when they're powerful and traumatic. It's like something that triggers you. It's almost like ..."

"Like what?"

"Like post traumatic stress disorder." She answered.

I frowned, "Don't tell me I could have that."

Her tone of voice didn't convince me, "Uh ... well, maybe. You have symptoms, but that's something we have to look into further. A doctor would have to diagnose you."

I rolled my eyes, "As if I didn't have enough shit wrong with me already."

She turned my hips signaling me to turn around, "Shhh."

I face her, probably with a really dead expression, "This is too much for me. I'm mentally falling the fuck apart."

She cupped my face, "And I'm right here to put you back together."