Tethering Propositions

Giovanni

I give her that night and the next few days to rest. And all I can think about any time I look at her is what I'd thought, what I'd felt, when I'd seen her slumped over the steering wheel.

It's five days later when I decide it's time we had this talk.

"How long have you known what's on that drive," she asks when I enter the bedroom.

She's sitting up and Alice has just cleared the tray of food she'd brought up. Sienna's on bedrest. My orders.

"Long enough. You shouldn't have left like you did. You should have waited for me. Talked to me."

"I thought Deirdre was in trouble. I thought—"

"You should have talked to me!" I slam my fist into one of the bedposts.

Sienna jumps.

I hold up my hand, mutter a curse under my breath. I don't mean to frighten her, but I do because she gets that look in her eyes, that one from the first night.

"I don't want to talk about it. Ever. I don't want to think about it. You can't understand what...I just...I wish I could forget. Why can't I forget?"