39 Red Bruises
I wake up in Michael’s guest room. The sheets are moist and my curls are pasted to my forehead. As soon as I attempt to push myself up, Michael appears at my side.
“Don’t move,” he says quietly, stroking my sweaty curls. He lowers me back onto the pillow. I don’t want to do as he says but I feel weak and my body doesn’t have the same determination to defy him. I wonder how long I have been unconscious.
“Alice, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, bowing his head. “We’ve really hurt you by keeping this secret. I mean… just look how your body reacted.” Michael’s eyes are glistening in the semi-darkness of the room. “You just flopped on the floor and…” he breathes in shakily, “and I was so scared. I feel so responsible.” He grabs hold of my hands and squeezes them between his. “I th
