“Why don’t you fight back then?”
I choke on the words. “I can’t. He’d hurt Delia.”
“You do it for her.”
I blink back the tears and nod, yes, everything I do is for her. He has to understand that—
But he pulls away, and I’ve never felt so cold and all alone, never.
The bed shifts beneath him, his knee presses into my thigh, and from the corner of my eye I see him reach for something on the floor, his clothes maybe. He’s going to dress and leave. I brace myself for the slamming of the door. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this cot in the morning if he walks out tonight.
Only he doesn’t get up. He fumbles through the pockets of his jeans where they lay by the side of the bed, and then he rolls back to me, one hand closed in a tight fist. “I got something for you.”
I don’t respond.
“Look at me.”
I can’t.