"Adrienne. Look at me."
Even if I hadn't turned my cheek to him, I wouldn't be able to see him. Unshed tears turn my vision watery and staring at the tiles on the floor has become a key objective in keeping them just that: unshed.
I shake my head. "It doesn't matter. I don't want to talk about it."
I wait for his outraged objection. For another outburst maybe, telling me how stupid I am and how only a crazy person would do what I used to. After all, only someone who's insane would harm themselves, right? That's what they all say, at least.
My blurry eyes widen when strong arms wrap themselves around my shoulders. When my face meets his warm, inviting chest, the dam breaks like a piece of glass. Tears flow silently down my cheeks, soaking into his dark shirt.
Damn it! Hatred for myself
