Water rolled off my bare skin forming a puddle on the floor as I stood in front of the new top I had hung on the door.
I remember immediately loving it the moment I had put it on.
The soft fabric fell perfectly on my body, hugging each curve and the burnt orange complimented my sun kissed skin.
My stomach knotted as I instinctively slid my hand down my arms and the tops of my thighs, feeling the sting as I passed over etched lines and burns.
What have I done?
I unraveled my hair from the towel and pushed it tightly against my face and began to cry.
“Are you almost done in there?” he shouted through the door.
I lifted my head, cleared my throat and said, “Almost.”
I grabbed the top and eased my arms through the neck of the top.
I smoothed out the wrinkles and twirled around the room inspecting every angle in the mirror.
If I keep my arms down they won’t see them.
I’ll say I burnt my arm on the BBQ.
The city lights sparkled like mini fire flies as we drove over the hill to the main street.
“You look beautiful babe. All sassy. You plan on picking up tonight?”
I laughed as I reached to tame fly away strands whipping from the wind coming in through the open window.
My bangles clanked and he looked over.
“Are those new?”
I quickly readjusted them on my arm.
“Did you…Did you do it again?”
I bowed my head in embarrassment.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well I do. When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Kim. When? Why did you?”
“I didn’t know what to do. It was all too much. I just needed the anger out.”
“You talk to me when you feel like that. Hear me?”
“You weren’t home Shawn!” I yelled.
He shook his head and sighed.
“I feel helpless,” he said solemnly.
I felt his hand reach for mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
I turned up the radio to divert the conversation.
I wished that I never wore that shirt.
I wished that I didn’t do this to myself.
I wished I knew how to fix this.