Chapter 4 #5
I gasped a few times and then ran to the stereo to turn on music, turning the knob until the familiar strains of Carmen filled the room, the whole house. I turned it even louder than normal so I couldn’t even hear myself think. Or feel. Or anything.
Then I put on my shoes and climbed onto my elliptical.
I pushed myself harder than normal, so hard my legs were almost numb after an hour. I turned my ankle painfully at one point but didn’t let that stop me. I just pushed through the pain, trying to feel nothing except the pulse of the music and the numb ache of my body.
I don’t even know how long it was. At least a couple of hours. I was sweating so much that my clothes clung wetly to my body and my hair was a damp tangle around my face.
My chest hurt so much that I was suddenly scared—some instinct in my body that still fought for self-preservation, no matter how much I tried to drown it out. I couldn’t stop what I was doing though. I literally could not stop.
Then suddenly the music went off.
It was like I’d suddenly gone deaf. I couldn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear anything. I had no idea why.
Until I realized someone else was in the room.
I wasn’t scared or even startled. I was too far gone for anything like that. I knew who the person was—the only person it could be. He was staring at me from the doorway with what looked to my fuzzy eyes like horror.
I couldn’t stop moving. Even now. It was like something alien had possession of my body.
“Oh fuck, Diana,” Gideon said at last in a thick, soft murmur. “What are you doing?”
My face twisted from emotion that kept forcing its way up, despite my best efforts. I barely had enough air left to speak, but I managed to rasp, “Please help me.”
I really didn’t think I could stop.
He came over immediately with four long strides.
He turned off the machine and then, very gently, put his hands on one of my legs to make the motion ease to a halt.
He actually had to pry my fingers off the handles to get me to unclench.
Then he lifted me off the pedals and carried me over to my bed.
I didn’t want to lie on my bed with so much sweat dripping off me—I washed my sheets almost every day so they never felt anything but clean—but there was no way I could move somewhere else. I couldn’t even stand up. My legs would never have supported me.
I was trembling helplessly, and the muscles of my arms and legs occasionally spasmed, causing my whole body to jerk.
Gideon worked on taking my shoes off, and I heard him suck in his breath when he took the first one off and saw the bloody sock.
Then he worked on the second one. I could hear him murmuring occasionally, “Oh, God. Oh fuck.” But he didn’t seem to be talking to me, and I didn’t have the strength to answer him anyway.
He went into the bathroom then and came out with a wet washcloth and the antiseptic wash I kept for my blisters. He mopped up the blood and applied antiseptic. They were so numb I couldn’t even feel it.
Then he went back into the bathroom and came out with another washcloth. He used this on my face, wiping away the pouring sweat from my forehead, cheeks, and neck.
It should have felt good, but my skin was blazing so painfully the cool sensation barely got through. I was still gasping for breath. Not anywhere close to thinking or speaking yet.
He seemed to know this. He didn’t say anything. After a few minutes, he went to rinse and wring out the washcloth. It was cool again as he brushed it very gently against my cheeks. This time I could feel it more.
It felt nice.
After he’d taken care of my feet, face, and neck, he seemed at a loss. I could tell he wanted to take care of my clothes, which were completely soaked with perspiration, but he wasn’t going to take them off. Even in the state I was in, I wouldn’t have let him.
Eventually, when I could basically breathe again, I managed to say, “I want to take a shower.” I usually went right to the shower after my sessions. I wasn’t used to this time in between, and I wanted it to end.
He helped me get up. My knees buckled immediately, but he put his arm around me for support until I could stand on my own. My twisted ankle was throbbing, but everything else was throbbing too, so I barely thought about it.
He walked with me to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stood in the middle of the floor, shaking helplessly, my sweaty clothes sticking to my hot skin. “Are you going to be okay on your own?” he asked, his first words in a long time.
I nodded.
“I’ll be right outside,” he said, leaving the bathroom door open a crack as he left.
I managed to take off my pants and long-sleeved T-shirt, but then I seemed to get stuck. The shower was running, and I stood in front of it in my panties and the tank top I’d worn instead of a bra. But I couldn’t take the two steps I needed to get in.
My teeth were chattering now, even though my skin still felt hot. I couldn’t move. I stood there for a long time. I was starting to think through whether I was capable of lowering myself down to sit on the toilet lid when Gideon asked from outside the door, “Are you all right?”
He must have been able to tell from the sound of the water that I hadn’t managed to get into the shower yet.
“I… I don’t know.” My teeth were chattering so violently I could barely speak.
I was facing the shower, not the door, but I was aware when Gideon walked back in.
He didn’t say anything. He just walked over to feel the temperature of the water and adjusted it a little warmer. Then he put his arm at my waist and helped me walk into the shower.
I was still in my tank and panties as the spray started to run over me.
It felt so good that a funny little moan escaped my throat.
Gideon had kicked off his shoes, but he was still wearing his T-shirt and khakis, which were both soaked now from the water of the shower. He didn’t appear to even notice it.
I reached toward the loofah I always scrubbed myself with. He picked it up to hand to me but looked at the scratchy surface of it first. His mouth twisted in a scowl, and he thrust it outside of the shower to drop on the floor.
Sometimes I would scrub myself raw with that brush. Maybe he somehow suspected.
He gave me a washcloth instead and moved the bottles of shampoo and bodywash so they were more easily in my reach. Then he stepped out again and shut the shower door.
I could tell he was still in the bathroom, right outside the shower. The door was frosted so he couldn’t see anything but a silhouette. But I wanted to take off the rest of my clothes and didn’t want to do it with him standing right there.
“My dad left some clothes here. They’re on the shelf of the coat closet. You might find something dry to wear there.”
“Okay. Just call if you need me.”
I’d needed him enough already. I’d needed him far too much. I wasn’t going to ask for help again.
When he left the bathroom, I took off my wet tank and panties and cleaned myself up as quickly as I could since I suspected he’d be coming back pretty quickly.