Page 25 of Insidious

She pauses between movements, and her hand grips the mattress, knuckles white with strain.

I swing my legs off the bed and move around to her side.

“Luna,” I try, firmer this time. “Let me help you. What do you need?”

She hesitates for a second, as if measuring her words. This hurts my heart, that she is guarding herself against me.

“I need to pee,” she finally relents like it cost her to say that.

Fear and dismay twists in my chest. She doesn’t trust me.

“Okay,” I say quickly. “Okay. I’ve got you.”

I slide my arms under her as carefully as I can, one behind her back, the other beneath her knees, trying not to jolt her, trying not to hurt her more than she already is.

For a moment, she resists. I brace myself for her rejection.

Then relief fills me as her arms come up around my neck, her body leaning into mine, her face pressing against my neck. And I feel it—

Warm wetness against my skin.

She’s crying.

Panic hits me like a thunderbolt.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” I say, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “Luna, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She shakes her head against me, her grip tightening slightly.

“I …” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I feel so useless. I hate this.”

God.

“It’s okay,” I say quickly, though the words feel inadequate even as I say them. “It’s going to be alright. You’ve just had surgery, Luna. It’s—this is normal.”

I don’t know what else to do.

I don’t know what else to say. Don’t even know if this is normal.

I carry her into the bathroom, moving carefully, and set her down gently on the commode, making sure she’s steady before I let go.

She keeps her head down, shoulders curled slightly inwards.

I crouch in front of her, reaching to help with her underwear.

“Let me—”

“Stop,” she says suddenly, her voice razor-sharp in its denial.

I freeze.

“I don’t—I don’t want you to …”

There’s something in her tone that I don’t quite understand.

“It’s okay,” I say softly. “It’s just me. I love you.”

She shakes her head, her hands clutching at the fabric.