47. FORTY-SEVEN
FORTY-SEVEN
Hot water shoots out from the metal showerhead, spraying Finn in the face before he turns the nozzle to my seated form. The heat runs down my skin, and although I hate using this stupid shower seat he got, I have to admit it is nice to be pampered in such a delicate manner.
He lathers soap in his palms before slowly working it into my scalp, massaging me like some kind of pro despite the fact I’ve watched this man clumsily drop the TV remote nearly a hundred times.
“I really love taking care of you,” he says wistfully. His voice is so soft now, so gentle. “I sort of did it for my mom, before… you know. But it was different. I felt like I had to, but when you… I want to.”
“Why did your mom need to be cared for?”
Finn stiffens, swallowing hard before pressing himself closer against me. “Dad… Um… Did something.”
“...You’re being vague.”
“Her legs,” he admits with a guilt-laced voice, “she couldn’t use them either.”
That revelation is genuinely horrifying, yet it doesn’t really process as a major red flag in my head. Why should I care about some lady I don’t know when I’m in the exact same situation? Or, ugh… I don’t enjoy that thought. That’s not me. I always prided myself on how empathetic I was.
When did I lose that?
“Guess you learned from him then, huh?” I regret the words the moment they leave my lips, but it’s not as if I can take them back. “Sorry, I—”
“Take it back.” Water continues to pelt the both of us, flowing down our unmoving bodies. “Duncan, take it back.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why did you say it?”
No answer. I don’t have an excuse.
“I’m not the same way he is.” Finn returns to washing my hair, but it’s different now. It’s not that it’s less gentle, but there’s this edge of uncertainty in the way he moves—as if he’s aware of how easily everything can crumble. “You don’t know my dad. You don’t know how a-awful he was.”
“I have an idea of how bad he was,” I remind him gently. “I remember what you told me, and I know he called you… that word a lot.”
The way he whines makes my heart melt. He gives me the most awkward hug from behind, even though we barely touch because the sterile-looking gray backing of the chair is in the way.
“I’d never be like him. I’d never call our kids that, and I wouldn’t ever hit them. W-Why would you ever hurt someone you…?” His voice trails off, and even without seeing him I just know his eyes are on the bruised skin of my legs now.
Wordlessly, he finishes up in the shower and carries me to the bedroom. There’s his unnervingly dead look in his eyes. He simply curls up next to me, resting his head on the dark purple t-shirt he let me wear. “You know I love you… Right, bunny? You know? You do know it, right?”
“I know, Finn.”
Even though I said it without so much as a millisecond of hesitation, he sighs and nuzzles into me some more.
“You don’t. I-I don’t think you do. Not really.
” Those sweet eyes find their way to me.
“The only person… you’re the only person.
The only one who’s ever treated me like I matter…
and of course… Of course I had to mess it up. ”
I expect him to stay all pitiful and sad, but instead he sits up and pulls me into his arms. His chest is so warm, so far from that cage-y feeling I used to get when he held me. It feels soft and permanent now, it feels safe.
“I’m going to do better. I’m going to be better.” He sounds so self-assured that I can’t help but believe him despite the fact this is getting so very old. “A relationship… a healthy one… It’s about compromise, right? You wanted… you wanted to go out. Do you still want to?”
My eyes widen. “You mean it?”
“Just a car ride,” he warns. “To be safe. I don’t… I-I won’t let anyone take you from me.”
The prospect of a car ride is so nice even if getting excited about it makes me feel like an animal rather than a person. It’s something new. Something besides the same old trees and the same old snow-covered grass. No more creepy stalker pictures and no more dimly lit rooms bathed in yellow.
“Can we get burgers?”
Finn grins from ear to ear, excitedly kissing the crown of my head over and over. “Yeah. Anything you want. I really… You deserve it.” He doesn’t move, though, choosing to pull me tighter against his wide frame. “We’re gonna be together forever, bunny. Just you and me.”
“Yeah,” I say softly with my eyes closed. My stomach rumbles but I don’t pay it any mind. This is the best I’ve felt in so long. There’s no sense of unease behind his words anymore. He means it, and that’s good. “Forever.”
When we finally pull apart I don’t have to worry about what I'll wear, since Finn tosses me one of his dark green striped hoodies with the drawstring missing and a baggy pair of black pants. Once we’re in the car he does my seatbelt and gives me a kiss on the temple.
It’s so dark outside that I can barely see more than an arm’s length in front of me, and the sparsely placed street lights aren’t doing much against the heavy torrent of snow coming down.
The car’s engine starts up, pale white headlights illuminating the path forward. Finn places a gentle hand on my thigh, giving it a reassuring yet gentle squeeze before he pulls out of the dirt driveway.
Have I ever seen the exterior of the place properly until now? Vibrant wood with a black tiled roof, and a pale red bricked chimney on the side. It’s actually really gorgeous, although you’d never imagine the things that go on inside.
It gets smaller and smaller until it’s gone, hidden behind thick-stumped trees and a shit ton of foliage. But no other house shows up like I thought there might be. He has no neighbors. No one else is around. I was right not to try and escape. I couldn’t make it anywhere, not like this.
Glancing up at Finn, his eyes immediately dart over to the road in a weak attempt to seem as though he wasn’t staring at me. I can only chuckle, taking in a deep breath and turning back to the window.
The world really is so pretty. Being stuck inside for so long almost made me forget such a simple fact. The whole burger thing isn’t all that exciting, but this view more than makes up for that.
Rolling down my window just a smidge, cool winter air begins to enter the vehicle. It’s a different kind of cold. It’s not desolate like the basement. It’s refreshing, like a tall glass of water in summer.
“Careful,” Finn says as the road widens. “I don’t want you getting sick.” With a smooth motion he pops open the glove compartment, motioning to the black fabric mask inside. “Can you put this on, please? I-Incase anyone recognizes you.”
That word—recognize—makes my heart flutter in the worst way. What if Haley was…? No. She wouldn’t be. She’s probably given up on me by now.
The mask is tight around my head, and for a moment I’m reminded of the collar he tried to make me wear. I glance over at him with intrigue, but the soft smile he has on kills any sort of rational thought I was forming.
It’s just as he said: this is our normal.