“Fuck,” he says again, startling me as he rears back and punches a hole through the wall.
I gasp and watch with wide eyes as he storms back towards me. He slides a warm arm around my waist before pulling me hard against his body. “You’re so fucking beautiful, it hurts,” he tells me with his head tilted down towards mine. “You always have been, Tora. Don’t you ever tell yourself that you’re not.”
Another tear falls from my eye as he presses a kiss to my forehead. A moment later, he’s gone.
I stand in the hallway staring at his closed door feeling lost. I want to go in there and demand answers for what happened this afternoon and what he just said. It doesn’t make sense for him to be kissing me and saying those things, especially after treating me so bad for the past five years.
What the hell is happening here?
I sink to the floor, not even having the energy to take the few steps to my room. My head falls into my hands as the tears silently flow. I cry not from the way he yelled and scared me but from the way he looked at me and challenged my beliefs. I mean, he looked at me and held me as though he truly believed it. Especially when he held me out on the couch this afternoon and pushed my hair off my face before he kissed me. I’ve never felt wanted like that.
It wasn’t the same as when I was with Josh and I could tell he just wanted me to get naked. This was different, this was as though he thought I was precious. He said I was so beautiful it hurt.
He’s making me feel things that I shouldn’t be feeling. He’s making me want to be better as the thought of having him looking at me with that same disappointment is almost enough to paralyze me.
I take a breath and wipe the tears off my face.
I need to be better cause I’ll be damned if I had either one of the Ryder brothers looking at me with pity again. I’ve kicked this diseases ass once before. I can do it again.
I will be healthy.
I will eat proper meals.
I will not throw up my food.
I will tell myself that I’m beautiful even though I don’t believe it.
I will be the best version of myself, no matter how hard that is to achieve.
I push myself up to my feet and with a fierce determination, I walk back down the stairs. When I get into the kitchen I gawk at the sight I thought I’d never see. Jesse Ryder cleaning up after himself. He stands at the sink rinsing off the dishes and grunting to himself about his brother being a dickhead.
I grab a dustpan and broom and silently go in to help him. He gives me a grateful smile as I clean up the shattered pieces of china all over the floor. “You good?” Jesse questions as he places the leftover dinner in the fridge.
I don’t meet his eyes as I nod, terrified that if I do, it will bring on the waterworks all over again. So instead, I concentrate on helping him clean.
Ten minutes later, the dishwasher is running and I make my way upstairs with a plate of food in my hand. As I get to my door, Nate’s opens and he steps out into the hallway. His eyes instantly find mine before they lower to the plate in my hands.
I don’t want to see what emotion flickers over his face next, so I push into my room and gently close the door behind me.
I sit on my bed cross-legged and stare down at the plate. “I’m going to make you my bitch,” I tell it. I cut my knife through a piece of chicken and put it in my mouth.
Chew.
Swallow.
Repeat.
It takes me nearly an hour to finish off the plate and by the end, I sit with tears streaming down my face and the desperate need to throw it all up. But I won’t. Not this time.
My stomach starts to ache but I manage to make my way downstairs to clean up my plate. When I get back, I stand under the hot stream of my shower before tucking myself into bed with my Kindle.
I read for about an hour before my stomach starts to settle which is when I reach over and flick off the lamp on my bedside table.
I’m just about asleep when the door of my room slowly pushes open. I look up to find Nate hovering in my doorway, leaning against the frame as he silently watches me. “Are you ok?” he murmurs into the dark room.
I nod my head against the pillow. “Yeah,” I whisper.
“Did you eat it?”
I nod my head again. “I did.”