Page 90 of Untouchable

After another searching look, Reese seemed to believe her because her body relaxed a little.

Kelly felt a flood of bitterness well up in her chest, all directed inward. “I did just have sex, yes. That much must be obvious. But it was consensual.” She closed her eyes and wished she didn’t hate herself quite so much. “My choice. My choice.” Her voice faded off a little. “Mine.”

Reese’s brow furrowed, and her face twisted with sympathy. “Can’t you tell me?”

“No. I don’t think I can. I’m sorry. I know it’s horrible for me to show up here and not tell you anything?—”

Reese brushed her apology away. “You don’t have to tell me anything tonight if you don’t feel up to it. I’m so glad you came here.” Reese’s eyes softened a little as they focused on Kelly. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been so worried. You seemed to just disappear.”

Guilt slammed into Kelly on top of all her other tumultuous emotions. She felt like she would choke—there was just too much she was feeling and experiencing. It was too intense. Too chaotic. And how was one person supposed to deal with all of it?

She needed a break, a respite, a breath of air to recover herself.

Reese seemed to recognize this much because she stood up. “It’s late. I’ll let you sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.”Glancing around her small apartment, she added, “I only have one bed, but we could share if you?—”

Kelly shook her head, dreading the idea of being that close to someone—anyone—tonight. “The couch will be great. I don’t need special treatment.”

Reese must have read finality in her voice. She didn’t argue. She just showed Kelly the bathroom and brought in some bedding for the couch. After she’d gotten things arranged, she paused, obviously on her way back to her own bedroom. “If you need anything?—”

The simple kindness was almost too much for Kelly. She wanted to flee. Run away from it. It was making her chest ache so much. “I’ll let you know,” she forced out of her painfully dry throat. “I might take a shower, but I’ll try not to make too much noise.”

“Make as much noise as you want. And wake me up for whatever reason.” Reese started to leave, but then she turned back and reached out to pull Kelly into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Tears burned in Kelly’s eyes, but they weren’t as painful as the excruciating pressure in her chest. She forced herself not to pull away from the hug—not wanting to hurt Reese’s feelings.

But it was so hard. So hard to be hugged this way, when physical touch had left her with so few defenses.

Reese went into her bedroom at last, and Kelly was relieved when the door shut so she could have a little space. She took her overnight bag and went into the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as she could stand. She took off her wrinkled clothes and stepped under the spray.

She let the water wash over her and tried to imagine it cleansing her of everything impure that had ever touched her. She wished she could imagine all her pain and bitterness and rage spilling down the drain with the water.

She wished her twisted heart—one that only knew how to betray—could melt away in the heat.

She couldn’t even imagine that much.

She cried a little more in the shower, although her sobs weren’t desperate or agonized, and she felt strange when she started to pull herself together. She had no idea what to do next.

What she ended up doing was curling up under the blankets and shaking helplessly in the fetal position for several minutes.

But she was more exhausted than she could ever remember being, and sometimes even trauma can’t keep you awake.

She eventually fell into sleep and to her surprise actually slept straight through nearly the whole night. She woke up only once at about four in the morning, and for a moment she panicked, not able to remember where she was.

But then, as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she started to recognize Reese’s apartment. She remembered everything that had happened and knew Reese was sleeping in the bedroom. In her groggy state, Kelly experienced a strange sense of security.

As if, for this one night, she was safe. Protected. No one could touch her.

So she drifted back into sleep and didn’t wake up until Reese gently shook her shoulder. “Kelly,” Reese was saying softly as Kelly finally managed to open her eyes. “Kelly.”

“Huh?” Kelly grunted, stretching out on the sofa and trying to orient herself.

“I have to go to work,” Reese explained. “I made coffee. Just make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” Kelly agreed automatically, her body aching—from fatigue, from stress—as she tried to prop herself up into a sitting position. “Thanks.”

Reese gave her a sharp look. “You’ll be here when I get back?”

Kelly had no idea if she would be here or not. “Yeah. I think so.”