Chapter 49 - Marks

Her reflection distorted her dry lips into a cheerless smile. The bright morning light fell through a window, flooding the bath with white rays. She could see herself clearly. Groaning, she squeezed her eyelids together. She looked terrible. Somehow, like a zombie. Pale, with dark circles under his eyes. Swollen, red eyes. Lily stroked her cheek with her fingertips. The right side was slightly swollen. A green-yellowish stain stretched from her temple to her cheekbone. She remembered a brawl. She had bitten him to free herself from his grip. From her helplessness. She had bitten his nose as hard as she could. A metallic taste of blood was spreading in her mouth. Pascal had screamed out of pain or wrath. She didn't know. But then he had punched her. So hard it had knocked her from her feet. For several seconds she was in a daze, with a constant ringing in her head. Then he pulled her by the hair. His face was distorted with anger. Bastard! She did not want to move anymore. Every move was painful. But she knew she needed. She was sure, nobody would come to save her. So she needed to fight for herself, even if it would be painful, even if she was scared.

Her thoughts were full of pictures. Every mark on her body fabricated new images. She had scratched him, kicked him, hit him. And he always beat back. Like that, he wanted to make her obedient, submissive. But Lily had fought back. Fought, so he wouldn't get what he wanted. She would never submit to him. She could not have endured it had she succumbed to him. Every blow she had to take was worth it.

With trembling fingers, she turned on the water tap and let the cool stream flow over her wrist. She sighed in relief.

She did not know how long she was standing there, forcing herself to turn the tap back off and stepping back from the sink.

Slowly she pushed the spaghetti straps off her shoulders. The silk dress fell to the ground, billowing around her feet. She wondered who had changed her cloths, but then shook her head. Actually, it didn't matter. She should be thankful.

When she turned around, she caught for breath. Everywhere bruises and abrasions. Quickly she turned away from the mirror again. She pressed her hand over her eyes as another flood of pictures broke over her. Suddenly she was dizzy, desperate she searched for support. Then crashed to the ground.

A knock. Urgent. "Is everything okay?" Alexandre? He sounded worried. A click, the door handle was pushed down. Hastily she tried to grab the thin nightgown. "Not!" Her voice was shrill, even for her own ears. She did not want to be seen like that. So .... Naked. Helpless.

He remained in his move. The door was open only a gap width. He leaned against the wooden door. "I heard a crash. Is everything okay with you?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was shaky. "I just lost my balance for a moment."

"Do you need help?" His voice had grabbed up that soft baritone again, somehow reminding her of melted chocolate.

"No!" She fiddled with the material, trying to hide her nakedness in haste. Her movements were choppy and uncoordinated. "I'll do it alone." She hurried to say.

"If you need help, you have to say so. I'm waiting for you outside." Then he closed the door again. Softly. She took a deep breath and pushed herself off the floor. A groan escaped her lips.

Everything in her mind was spinning. Her emotions had discovered the roller coaster ride and were able to escape their dark prison. Lily felt nervous, but also somehow safe. She was so uncertain. He waited for her, giving her a sense of security, the feeling she could count on him. Suddenly she did not feel so alone. Could she trust him?

She got into the shower. A warm stream pattered down on her. She hissed as the water touched her skin. In some places felt this burning. She closed her eyes. Lost for a moment. Remembering his touch. They had something comforting in her memories.

With weak fingers she reached for the sponge. The sweet smell of spring flowers reached her nose as she generously dripped the pink soap on the yellow bath sponge.

Then she began to scrub. Hard and thoroughly.

Every inch of her body.

Her skin burned as she scrubbed her body for the fourth time. Her skin was red and irritated. Lily knew she had to stop. But there was this feeling. This ... disgust. She just could not get rid of it.

She knew that he had not really touched her. Not in this intimate way. Alexandre could prevent worse. And yet ... just the thought was enough ... what he wanted to do with her ... It drove her crazy.

She rubbed her skin again and again. As if she could wipe away the feeling.