She stares at my hand for a moment, but ultimately places hers in mine. Her skin is chilled and I can feel the tremble in each of her fingers when I curl mine around hers.
We ride the elevator up in silence, but I’m unable to ignore how her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly when we were finally in the safe confines of the closed elevator car, with no one around us at all.
We step into the foyer of my apartment and only the light of the city outside the windows shines through, allowing us to see, to navigate, our way around.
“I’d like a minute alone, if that’s okay?” she says so quietly that I barely hear her.
Every part of me is screaming no. I don’t want to leave her alone. I want to glue myself to her. I want to make this go away and I fucking can’t.
I have to allow this if I don’t want her to bolt from me.
“All right.” I drop her hand after giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be in my studio when you’re ready.”
Once I’m assured I’m in the dark and away from her sight, my hands curl into tight fists. She may need a moment or longer to collect herself. I can tell you I need one as well. It takes everything in me not to burst through my studio door like a ball shot out of a cannon. The rage I have for this unseen, unknown force knows no parallel. I allow the lights to blaze into every corner of the room. I tug at the tails of my shirt and pull them free from the waistband seconds before I rip the buttons open, sending a few scattering to the four corners.
I don’t fuck about with palettes in the moment. I take brush after brush in my hand and start slapping strokes all over the four-foot by four--foot blank canvas in front of me. The paint begins to mold and blend into streaks of angry color that are every form of darkness they are intended.
It’s like I black out, blinded by my anger and the fact that a woman I care deeply for has been hurt by something I can’t even see, something I can’t stop. It’s like that’s my destiny in this life. To watch women I care about be tormented by invisible demons.
Sweat is beading on my brow and paint is splattered all over my chest and opened shirt. I can feel it on my cheeks and lips. I’m covered in my aggression.
I don’t even hear her come into the room.
I don’t even know she’s near me until I feel her hand on my shoulder and it scares me, pulling me violently out of the one-way tunnel my mind was taking me through.
“Shit!” I turn around, swinging my arm back.
As my wide eyes focus again, Nora is stumbling backward holding her right shoulder. Her left hand is covering her mouth as her tear-streaked face looks at me with horror. Her eyes dart every way looking for an escape. I try to go after her until she retrieves an X-acto blade in her hand from my framing table. Her hand shakes with it clutched inside.
“Petal. God, Petal. I’m sorry. Please don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you. Let me have the knife. ”
She backs out of the room until she feels she has enough space to truly run. I chase her down the dining hallway to the kitchen where in her current state, she corners herself in the kitchen instead of calling the elevator or taking the stairs to the rooftop terrace.
She looks like a scared animal, a puppy that has been kicked one too many times by someone they trust.
“Petal, please… I won’t hurt you.” I hold up both hands so she can see that I’m not hiding anything from her. “But I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Please put the knife on the floor or hand it to me.”
She begins to sob even harder and slides down the wall to the floor, pulling her knees up and into her chest.
“Can you look at me?” I lower myself to her level, but stay a safe distance away. I can see her shoulders rise and fall with every breath until she slowly raises her head to look at me. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me. Do you believe that?” Once again, I ask for her to do as I need. “Petal. I’m afraid you could hurt yourself. I couldn’t forgive myself if that happened. Please slide the knife away from you.”
In a measure of faith, I mirror her position just across from her. The pain and agony I see on her face is tenfold inside me. How could someone hurt this stunning creature? She has a heart as pure as the driven snow. Her being is the most beautiful thing to exist on this planet. I fear only the devil himself could elicit such a response.
She carefully places the X-acto knife on the tile, but hesitates before she slides it away from her and places her hands back in her lap.
That act alone causes a small amount of relief and my body relaxes just a little, because this is far from over.
“Thank you for doing that,” I tell her and she nods. “Petal, let’s get you off the floor. You don’t belong down there. You belong on your feet with your chin held high.” I extend my hand toward her, offering it as an olive branch, hoping she’ll take it. “I’ll sit here with my hand out as long as it takes. If it’s all night, that’s how long it will be. Do you trust that I will take care of you?”
My arm begins to burn with the length of time it’s extended. I won’t break my promise to her. I don’t care about the amount of time.
The seconds and minutes pass. Finally, she starts to tentatively inch her hand toward mine. I can see it shake the entire way. At first, that’s the only thing trembling, until the closer she comes to our connection, the shake reaches her entire body. In the union of our touch, it feels as though she can’t grip harder than she does. There is a limpness, yet a desperation to it.
“Good girl. I can see that you’re cold. I need to fix that. I would like to draw you a bath. The only thing the bath means is that I would like to see you warmer and calm. There is no other agenda to it. I will have to touch you to help you off the floor. All right?”
She finally, finally speaks, “Okay.”
I help her to her feet and we walk hand in hand, together, to my bathroom.
“You can wait by the counter while I draw the bath. I’ll add some oils for you as well.”
I make quick work of the bath, filling the large tub with steamy water and adding in lavender scented oils for relaxation.
But now comes the hard part.
“Petal, we have to get you undressed. I don’t want to ruin your beautiful dress by soaking it in water. If it’s more comfortable to you, you can leave your undergarments on. I’d also like to state my wishes. I would like to enter the water with you. I can protect you better by your side, instead of the next room, from whatever you’re fighting. I will climb in it with you, if you allow me.”
She says the same one word again, “Okay.”
Her hands reach behind her and start to lower the zipper from her shoulder blades to just past the perfect globes of her backside. Each side of the material slides over her skin into a pool on the floor. As the fabric falls, I discover one blessing and one curse, there are no undergarments.
“Very good. Now take my hand once more. Again, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
She lays her hand in mine and allows me to help her into the bath.
Her beautiful body sinks into the water, disappearing below the surface that is now covered with bubbles, and when she relaxes her head back, I sit along the edge, dipping my hand in with a small loofa. “I’m going to use this to wash your shoulders, if you’re all right with that?”