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He rushes from the bed and stumbles towards me.“What’s wrong, Pumpkin.” He grabs my hands and digs them out from the covers.
I can’t move. Stiff as a board.
“Pumpkin,” His eyes scan me. The straight deadline is my body.
“I want to move,” Iplead.
Confusion knits his brows.“Ok, let’s sit you up. Are you feeling sick again? The food poisoning should have passed.” He reaches behind me, sliding his hands under the sheets to help guide me. It takes force, which increases his worry.
“No. It’s not the food.” I whisper.“I wanted to move, but I couldn’t.”
He’s silent and then sits on the edge of my bed.“You called me for,” his worry softens. "I’ll always come when you call. I love you.” He bends down and kisses my forehead. I know it’s covered in sweat, but he doesn’t care. No matter howdisgustingI am, he doesn’t seem to see it.
I feel all my emotions curdling up my throat.
“This is why I didn’t want to talk,” I shout suddenly. Happy, but I can’t see his face entirely in my dark room.“I don’t want to cry. To feel! But you all keep pushing me to talk. To feel!” Then the flood waters burst, my body shakes, and he holds me as I cry.
“I wanted to move off Andrew’s lap, but I was scared he’d shoot.”
“You did the right thing, Pumpkin.”
“But I didn’t fight. Again. I let Andrew violate me again,” I sob.
I know he doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he holds me tighter.“He’ll never hurt you again.”
“He does every night when I close my eyes.”
“It’s going to fade, Poppy. It will. You have to trust me. One day, years from now, you’ll think about it. You might even cry again. But you know what?” He begins to rub circles on my back.“You’re going to realize that you went years without thinking about him. Slowly, he’s going to fade because you’re going to have a life filled with so many new, loving memories that will outshine every bad one.”
Chapter 57
Julian
We’re finally home, although it doesn’t feel like one yet.
It will.
Poppy’s making progress. She’s had a lot of ups; she smiled at a joke Harper made the other day. And then Poppy’s had some bumps in the road. Harper hugged her goodbye, and Poppy snapped, shoving Harper off of her, and started yelling,‘Get off me, Andrew!’
Dr. Peterson thought it best we move Poppy back into her normal surroundings, her safe space. Truth be told, Henry and I were terrified of moving her. It’s like coming home with a new baby. You’re not one hundred percent sure what to do or how they will act, but at the same time, you just want to get them home.
We all flew back to Texas on my jet. Henry is going to crash at Poppy’s apartment. He wanted to be close; across the hall is as close as he can get. Poppy made it clear she wanted to stay with me and that she didn’t want her old apartment back.
I’m not sure how I would have reacted if she wanted the opposite. I’d never force her, but I also wouldn’t sleep at night without seeing her.
I had Harper put in some blocking devices on my TVs so that no news channel could be on. I don’t want Poppy seeing or hearing the news. They still gossip about the downfall of the Sinclairs. Andrew wanted his legacy to live on. The media will ensure that.
Thanks to the Obsidian Order, the truth about Andrew’s death was covered up. The world thinks Andrew’s body was found outside of his childhood home in the backyard under a huge oak tree; a bullet to the head was the only truth we set free. The worlddoesknow that he was responsible for killing his father. A suicide note was found that admitted to the crimes Andrew and his dad committed. They might live on through gossip, but they will never be praised.
Dr. Peterson is staying in town for a few weeks. It’s costing me a fortune, but I’d gladly pay tenfold to see Poppy smile again.
Time. It heals all wounds and turns them into scars. Some visible, some faded.Time islike gravity, pulling you down, making memories sink to the depths of the ocean, covered in dark stillness. Poppy will swim to the surface again; there, she'll confront waves but also relax in the gentle ebb and flow of our life together.
I love that woman. I fell in love with her the first day I saw her moving in across the hall. You know when you stumble across something special. You want to savor it, hide it away. Andrew knew how special Poppy was. He tried to cage her, belittle her so she wouldn’t venture too far from his side.
I treat people who are special to me differently. I protect them and keep them close, but I aim to breathe life into their lungs, not squeeze it out.
I glance at Poppy; she just got out of the bath and is wrapped up in my towel, her hair dripping wet. God, she’s beautiful—not just physically, but mentally.
