secrets

six

-SIMON-
______

The bruise on Adele's shoulder is not from a simple accident, and I know that just as sure as I know my name.
I'm not hesitating to think that there is more than one bruise on her body.

I have to find out the truth.

Reluctantly, I unlock the door to my house. It suddenly doesn't feel like home at all.

Home is Adele.

When I step through, Clary is sitting on the couch with her arms crossed. She sighs and looks relieved once she sees me.

"You're late, but I'm glad you're home." She stands up and hugs me.

I swallow down the words I want to say to her, putting my arms around her as if she's my only love.

She backs away and looks skeptical. "Why do you smell like-" She smells my neck. "Like vanilla?"

I freeze. There's an obvious and simple answer, but being the complicated and slightly terrified man that I am right now, I come up with a story.

"There were a lot of vendors there and this random lady sprayed Dior perfume on me." I state, taking a deep breath when I finish.

She nods. If I were her, I wouldn't believe myself for a single moment. But I'm not her, and she doesn't know about my deep secret. So she kisses my lips momentarily before going up to bed.

I felt absolutely nothing in the kiss. She couldn't even compare to the way Adele made me feel.

I down a glass of water and get ready for bed, thinking about tonight. I've never met a woman who had such an enormous impact on me, was stunningly beautiful, and had a kind soul.

Adele is one in a billion.

Her scent is still all over my clothes, and it feels as though she's lying right next to me. I turn over, wishing I would be looking into her beautiful face, but instead I see Clary sleeping.

After an hour of trying to fall asleep, I give up, grab my phone, and quietly tip-toe downstairs to get to the bottom of this.

I spend two hours researching domestic violence, the signs, and how to get someone to admit they've been abused.

But I simply do not know enough to assume Adele is being or has been abused.

I have to find out who hurt her, because nothing broke me more than to hear her say she's never been treated like a woman.

______

That next morning, I realize I have nothing planned and decide to text Adele.

Good morning love. Are you busy today?

Almost immediately, the typing bubble appears. I smile.

No, just relaxing and watching movies with Louie

Perfect.

May I join?

Of course! Come on over

"Clary?" I yell.

From upstairs, she yells back, "Yeah?"

"I just got called into work, I'll be back later!"

"How long will you be gone?" She asks, appearing at the top of the stairs in his pajamas.

"I don't know, could be an hour, could be all day."

"I'm sorry, baby." She says.

I pretend to look disappointed. "It's alright."

"I love you."

Facing the door, I don't dare to look her in the eye and tell her that I love her too. Because I don't love her anymore.

"Love you too." I say, leaving quickly so she can't say anything else.

I hurry to Adele's house, trying to avoid the morning traffic, which is especially bad today because of the snowy roads.

It takes thirty minutes for me to finally get to her house, but I already know the long and somewhat dangerous drive is going to be more than worth it.

She answers as soon as I knock, as if she has been patiently waiting by the door for me to arrive.

I step inside, taking off my coat and shoes and following her into her living room, where Elf is playing on the TV.

"Elf?" I laugh.

"It's December! You can't have a good Christmas if you don't watch Elf at least once."

"So it's a Christmas movie day?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Simon." She says. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

I nod. "That would be lovely."

She walks into the kitchen, and I watch her every move. She has on leggings and long-sleeved black sweater. Wearing long sleeves is a sign of abuse, but it's also a sign that it's cold, so I wave the thought away.

After a few minutes, she returns with two mugs of tea and sits down next to me.

I thank her, take a sip, then pull her closer to me. She rests her head on my chest, and I rest my hand on her waist.

This is how I want to spend every day.

When the movie ends, she sits up to get the remote and start the next one.

Her sweater gets caught under my arm and it slips down a little, revealing her bare shoulder and part of her collarbone.

It also reveals something that confirms everything for me.

There is a deep purple bruise all over her shoulder, and the longer I look at it, I realize it unmistakably resembles the shape of a hand.