Page 103 of Coercion
He turns and walks out and as if that’s the permission I need, I let the pain and the tiredness take me.
I let the heaviness sweep over everything.
I let myself succumb to sleep, hoping that maybe I won’t wake.
That maybe god is finally done with me.
That whatever awful things I did in another lifetime, my debt is now paid and I’ll be reborn into a new life, one not full of hardship, of pain, of the worst unimaginable fear that never seems to cease.
Preston
Ican’t take my eyes from her. I can’t bear to let her out of my hold.
She whimpers in pain and I know it’s my fault.
That I did this.
I’m the worst kind of monster imaginable.
How could I ever believe it, how could I ever even think she’d do such a thing?
I get up, grabbing the meds the doctor left and draw up a syringe. Apparently pills won’t cut it when you’ve done the kind of damage I have.
Her face is screwed up. Half of it is black with swelling from where my hands have laid into her.
I wish I could take it back, I wish I could take it all back and start again but it’s too late. It’s far too fucking late.
I pull the cover off, trying to be as delicate as I can but she still wakes as the needle slips into her skin. I hear the hiss, I hear the whimper, and I press the plunger down quickly before pulling it out.
“I’m so sorry.” I say for what feels like the thousandth time.
But I could say it a thousand times more, a million times more, and it still would not be enough.
I brush her hair back from her face, her brow is sweaty like she has a fever. She flinches at my touch, trying to move away and for that, I can’t blame her.
I grab a damp cloth and carefully dab her skin. “I won’t hurt you.” I murmur soothingly. “I’ll never hurt you.”
“But you did.”
Her words cut through me worse than any knife.
I steal my breath, trying to explain what the fuck I was thinking, “I thought you were a mole. I thought…”
“I told you.” She cries. “I told you over and over.”
“I’m so sorry.” I say again. I don’t know how to make her believe me, I don’t know how to fix this. If I even can fix this.
She whimpers again and I know the pain meds aren’t kicking in, that even with that, I’m not helping her.
“Tell me what to do.” I say. “Tell me. I’ll do anything to make this right.”
Her tears start to fall at those words. “There’s nothing you can do.” She whispers.
I choke, grabbing hold of her, hugging her so tightly in my desperation. “I won’t let you go. You’re my wife. I won’t let you leave me.”
Only, those words make her cry harder. Instead of comfort, it feels like a curse.
I’m damning us both in this moment.
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