Unsurprisingly she had slept badly. Every time she shut her eyes she saw him leering over her as he pinned her down and did as he wanted with her. It was so vivid she could she could smell his aftershave and it almost choked her. She could feel his stale breath on her upper body as he moved inside her, the level of activity clearly more than his body was used to. She could feel his hands moving over her body and her skin crawled accordingly. Physically it might be over but she was constantly reliving it, playing the attack in her mind like a video on a permanent loop.
At one point her thrashing had disturbed Michael to the extent that he had felt the need to wake her and she had to admit that she was glad he did. The only point during the night when she hadn't been plagued by images of the attack was for the few moments when he woke her and held her with gentleness she had forgotten he was capable of. He had held her as though she was something incredibly delicate and precious and while she knew that soon enough he would see her for what she was it was nice while it lasted.
Sleepily she turned to him and ran one hand across her face, wiping the sleep from her eyes and wincing as it moved across her bruised cheek.
'What time is it?' she murmured and Michael silently drew his left wrist up so his watch was level with his face and looked at it before lethargically moving the limb down to the bed again
'Three' he mumbled, rolling onto his side to face her 'we've been asleep for six hours'
'Speak for yourself' she snapped, wishing she had managed any sleep at all. Instead she had lain on her back replaying the attack in her mind, thinking of all the ways that it could have been avoided from being better at her job or an all round nicer human being to having Michael pick her up outside the doors to the hospital. Hindsight can be a terrible thing. Occasionally her thoughts would be interrupted by his gentle snoring but for once it didn't grate on her. It just stopped her feeling so alone.
'You didn't drop off?' he asked and she shook her head hopelessly feeling tears prick at her exhausted eyes 'Do you want me to pop out later and pick you up some sleeping tablets?' he suggested but she shook her head. She could think of nothing worse than being stuck in a drug induced, nightmare filled, sleep from which Michael would stand no chance of rousing her. At the mere thought she felt her chest tighten with panic.
'Tea' she announced with a slight reverence in her voice. When she was growing up tea was her mother's cure for all ills. Boyfriend trouble, unpleasant landlord or rubbish exam results, her mother firmly believed that the answer lay in a cup of tea. If nothing else, fiddling with cups and teabags could easily buy a valuable five minutes to formulate a considered reply. These days she almost always drank coffee but there were times in her life when only a cup of strong tea would do.
'I'll get it' Michael immediately hopped from the bed and pulled on his dressing gown but she shook her head and climbed from the bed, wincing as the sheets peeled from the raw skin of her arms and a dull throb settled over every part of her anatomy between her rib cage and her knee caps.
'I'll do it' she sighed, dragging her weary body down the stairs to the kitchen, finding no joy in lying in bed with her torturous thoughts while Michael fussed over her. Not so long ago it would have been her favourite way to spend a Saturday but today it was her worst nightmare. There was no joy to be found in thinking when the thoughts in question were violent, intense flashbacks of an attack that was horrendous when it was inflicted and grew in horror with every time it passed through her mind.
'Is there anything I can do?' he asked dully as he followed her to the kitchen and slumped into a chair 'Anything you need or…'
'Time' she told him tiredly 'Space. Or perhaps company' she shook her head furiously 'I don't know, I just don't know'
'Have you thought any more about reporting this?' his question was utterly unwelcome but utterly predictable. In her heart she knew he wouldn't just drop the matter of police action. He couldn't possibly understand how humiliating it would be if it got out that she had been attacked and worse, who it was who had done the attacking. She would be talked about and she would be laughed at. She had always thought she held all the cards. Always believed that nothing he did could touch her or damage her in any way. How the mighty are fallen. He had hurt her more than anyone could possibly understand. In his warped mind he probably saw this as justice for everything she had put him through but he was so wrong. He had destroyed her from the inside out – all her confidence had gone and without that there was really very little left – but despite this she knew that she would never report him. To talk to the police would be to confront her greatest fear; that she would not be believed. To be considered a liar would be the ultimate insult and she couldn't take that risk so she knew she wouldn't report it. Instead she would take a few days off until the worst of the bruises healed and the nightmares eased and then she would replace her defences and return to the hospital. Of course it would be a struggle to work amicably alongside him and Michael would doubtless find it just as hard but the fact that it would be uncomfortable for Zubin was a small comfort to her. Furthermore the only way she had left to punish him was to make him see that he hadn't broken her despite his best efforts. That was a thought that she knew would keep her going no matter how hard it got and it was going to be hard but she didn't see that she had a lot of choice.
