With nervous fingers, she dialed up the lighting a quarter turn. Suddenly, she gasped. She had betrayed him. Brandi wanted to dim the lights again, but now that she knew, she could not unknow it — the reason he would not change his shirt in her presence.
The shock of cold discovery could not be silenced by covering her lips. Her cry echoed off the tile walls, muffled only by the steamy air. The hideous scars that extended from his shoulders to his knees were four years old, but she had only now felt their sting.
She cried softly as she pulled a towel off the rack and fastened it securely around his waist. Her fingers gently traced over the wounds on his shoulders and back as if to erase the pain the injuries had once caused, and to absorb from him the agony in his soul.
“Cody, sweetie, can you hear me? Babe, it’s me. I want to be there with you. Is there lightning where you are? Angels two zero? Let me lead you back to the deck. Cody?”
He made no response.
“Babe, please come back to me.”
At last, she squeezed her arms around him with all her might and screamed desperately, “Oh, God, please save my man of steel!”
Brandi’s unbridled prayer pierced every corner of the bathroom and resounded like the battle shout of an angel warrior.
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