CHAPTER 16 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
THERE’S A BIG PART of me that doesn’t want to face Arianna now I’ve received confirmation of what I dreaded.
Not facing up to things isn’t my usual stance in life, but in this instance, I have the inexplicable urge to hide away and never face her again; avoid the desolation in her eyes that, despite her masking it with anger, is there regardless.
I don’t want to lay eyes on the deep gouges on her wrists and ankles again; the bruises on her body - testaments to what she’s been put through and what has happened.
What those bastards have done...
My hand hovers over the knob of the bedroom door. I can’t hear a sound within. Perhaps she’s asleep?
Perspiration gathers between my shoulder blades, making my shirt sticky.
I want to be as far away from Arianna as physically possible. Not because what those cunts have done has “infected” or “tainted her”.
Not in my eyes. Nothing could change what I feel for that woman.
No, my reticence is another facet of a weakness I didn’t realize I possessed: I don’t want to face her because I can’t bear the shame that I’ve let her down.
I couldn’t stop it in time before...
Gritting my teeth, I turn the knob and stride into the room. No point knocking. The mood she was in before, she won’t let me in, but this way she has no choice.
“I told you to leave me alone!”
She’s not looking at me, just staring at the wall, so I move purposefully towards the bed and place down replacement bandages and antiseptic.
“I’m here to clean your wounds. They can’t be left any longer or you’ll get an infection.
” My voice is cold and emotionless. It’s the only way I can bear being in here with her like this.
I open a bandage - anything rather than seeing her face.
“I don’t care about infections. I’d rather die than have you do anything for me.”
“Tough because I’m doing it anyway!” Catching her off guard, I grab her arm, hopefully gently, and then perch on the edge of the bed. “The quicker you let me get on with it and the less you struggle, the sooner I’ll get out and you’ll get your wish of being left alone.”
“I see I have little choice in the matter. I’m becoming quite accustomed to that.”
With a sickening jolt, the meaning of her words ricochets around my head. And what am I doing? Giving her no choice either. It doesn’t make me feel good.
Keeping her arm within my grasp, I undo the old bandage. The urge to trail my fingers over her soft skin, pull towards me and hold her close is overwhelming, but I must remain detached.
That she hasn’t pulled away again is a start because these bandages really do need changing. If they didn’t, I’d follow my need to keep away, rather than face what I’ve caused.
I unravel the bandage quickly and methodically, pretending not to notice Arianna’s slight intake of breath as I pull away the part closest to the wound.
Now that she’s accepted I’m changing these dressings, albeit resentfully, I drop my grip of her arm and reach to unscrew the ointment. Tipping some pungent fluid onto cotton wool, I glance up. “This might sting.”
I look away. I can’t stand the hate and revulsion in her eyes that’s aimed at me.
I dab the ointment on, but the sting elicits no reaction. It’s like she’s dying inside with each minute that passes. That my presence accelerates that death risks killing me too. I don’t want to hurt this woman.
I love her.
But what has my love brought her?
Concentrating on securing the new bandage around Arianna’s thin wrist, the sight of the deep gouge inflicted on her once-perfect skin threatens to send me over the edge and straight to hell, but I repeat the process with her other wrist.
She says nothing further. Neither do I. The silence is suffocating.
I reach to move the sheet down over her legs to change the bandages on her ankles.
“Do it from the feet end,” Arianna snaps.
Nodding, I get up and walk to the end of the bed and pull the sheet from the footboard end, up just past her ankles. She doesn’t want me to see the bruises on her legs, which signify...
I push down the rage boiling within me. I’ve already seen the fucking bruises and can’t unsee them, the same way she can’t, but I’ll say nothing.
Not yet.
I’ll continue coming in every half hour to check on her, torturing myself by witnessing her hatred for me if it means I can make it right in whatever way there is left to offer. I don’t care how long it takes.
Securing the final bandage, I replace the sheet and tuck it around her feet. I haven’t done a very good job of it, but I’ve never professed to be a chambermaid.
If Arianna thinks I haven’t noticed the smashed plate over there, she’s wrong, but she can smash every single thing I own if it will fix her, put things back the way they were and make her love me again.
“All done.” I scoop up the dirty bandages. “Shall I arrange for some new food to be brought up?”
Arianna doesn’t answer my question. An abrupt and barely noticeable shake of her head is all I receive, so I make my way to the door. “Try to get some sleep. It will do you good.”
“What would you know?”
The resentment in her eyes takes my breath away, but keeping my stoic, neutral mask in place, I step out of the room and quietly pull the door behind me before she sees the pain etched across my face that I’m unable to hide any longer.