Chapter 110 Some Scars Never Heal
Chapter 110 Some Scars Never Heal
Just as Tiffany suspected, my wounds were indeed almost fully healed.
“You’ll likely have some scars on your belly from those gashes,” she said as she carefully removed the stitches from the already healed flesh, “but other than that… I think you’re okay.”
I nodded, feeling both grateful for Tiffany’s help and awed by my new healing abilities, but as I looked over at Enzo, I couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever heal like this again. The relieved expression on his face had turned to one of deep sadness, which came as no surprise after everything that had happened.
By this point, the campus was starting to wake up once more, and I was certain that my friends were starting to get worried about me. Tiffany had informed me that I was missing for only three days, although it felt like years — but I still knew that Jessica and Lori would be concerned, so I decided to go home.
Enzo walked me home. He was quiet during the walk, but stayed by my side. His presence deflected any strange looks I received, considering the fact that the last time I had been seen, I was vomiting in a campus trash can after supposedly sleeping with Ronan — although I was now certain that it really was all a lie to get me away from Enzo so that Edward could take me away to whoever this ‘Sister’ person was.
When we arrived back at the dorm, Lori and Jessica were shocked to see us walk in; so much so, in fact, that Jessica dropped her spatula as she was making pancakes and ran over to me, pulling me into a tight hug, while Lori practically vaulted over the couch to do the same.
“Where have you been?” Jessica asked. “We were really worried about you.”
I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. Those tears began to flow, and soon I was bawling to my friends on the couch. I knew, then, that I would have to finally tell them. There was no other way to explain any of this to them without giving them the entire picture, and all of the sneaking around had gone on for long enough. I needed the support of my friends, especially because Edward was still out there somewhere.
So, I explained everything.
…
When I was finished, Lori stared back at me in abject shock, while Jessica only nodded thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Enzo had been quiet the entire time, leaning on the kitchen counter behind me.
“Well?” I asked. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“I mean, sort of–” Lori began, but Jessica stopped her.
“I know you’re not crazy, because I know that werewolves are real.”
Lori, Enzo and I all looked at Jessica in shock. “How?” I asked.
She shrugged, inspecting her nails as she spoke. “My great-grandma was a hybrid. I think she was, like, a quarter werewolf or something. So I don’t have any real werewolf DNA left in me, really, but it’s no secret to my family.”
“So you knew all along, and you didn’t tell me?” Lori asked, her eyes wide.
Jessica merely shrugged again. “I dunno. I had a feeling that something fishy was going on, but I figured that Nina would tell us in her own time.”
While Jessica and Lori began to bicker over whether Jessica should’ve told her these things sooner, I looked up to see Enzo sitting on the kitchen stool now. He was staring out the window with a stony expression on his face and unblinking eyes; I could tell that he was still reliving the experience in his mind, as was I. I stood and walked over to him, squeezing his hand.
“You’re tired.”
He nodded. I knew that he hadn’t slept all night. “I should probably go home and get some sleep,” he said, standing.
I stopped him just as he started to make his way toward the door. “No,” I said, my voice quivering. He looked down at me, puzzled, as I shook my head vigorously. “Please stay. Just until tomorrow.”
Enzo paused, his brown eyes searching my face, before he finally nodded silently. I realized now that I was gripping his hand tightly as though my life depended on it, like letting him go would cause him to vanish from existence.
And so, while Jessica and Lori continued to bicker, I led him to my room.
Once we were inside with the door shut tightly behind us, it felt eerily quiet and foreign. I realized that I had almost forgotten how my room looked; Edward’s hypnotism had worked so well on me that it had become a distant blob in my memory, nothing more than a vague daydream.
“You kept this?” Enzo asked, walking over to my desk and picking up the wolf plushie that he had won for me at the Halloween fair.
I nodded, a smile tugging at my mouth as I remembered that night. I wished, now, that I had gone with him to the fair — not with Ronan.
He held the wolf in his hands for a few moments, studying it, before he set it back down. “Is it alright if I shower?”
“Sure,” I said. “There should be a clean towel on the rack.”
I watched as Enzo made his way over to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, then began to lift his shirt over his head, but as he did, I could see him wince. He seemed to struggle, as though he had lost mobility in his arms. Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.
“Here,” I said, running over to him and grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’ll help you.”
He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head and taking a step back, looking ashamed. “No. I don’t want you to see me like… Like this.”
I frowned. “Let me help you.”
Enzo stared back at me reluctantly before finally relenting and letting me lift the shirt over his head. The bathroom began to fill with steam, and once I had gotten his shirt off, I took a few steps back and quickly turned on my heel to give him his privacy. Before I could leave, however, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and turned around to see him looking at me with that same unwavering, wide-eyed expression.
“Shower with me,” he said.
I felt my face get hot and my heart quicken its pace. “Are you sure?”
He only nodded, then stepped toward me and lifted my shirt off over my head in the same way that I had done for him. His hands lingered on my bare waist for a moment before he unbuttoned his jeans and slipped them off. I pulled off my sweatpants, and for what felt like an eternity, we stood in front of each other, our faces red, as we looked at each other’s bodies.
“After you.” He opened the shower door. I stepped in, realizing now that I hadn’t had a shower in three days. I winced briefly as the hot water washed over the wounds that still remained on my skin. Enzo stepped in after me.
We were silent as we held each other beneath the hot water. There was nothing we could say — no words could heal the pain we felt from our shared experience. Eventually, as though it was only natural for us to do so, we took turns washing each other. The soap didn’t wash away the scars, but the ritual of it helped, at least a little.
Enzo wouldn’t let me at first, but when I finally convinced him to let me wash his back, he hesitantly turned around — and for the first time, I saw the scars that lined his back.
I cried, although he didn’t see it. These scars would never heal, and they had been caused because he cared about me