Beyond The Bruises

By Agrima Singh

CILLIAN  

Oh dear lord can one genuinely be this beautiful….. 

My gaze follows her movements as she cradles our little girl in her arms. Her  eyes –God , help me- I don’t want to die of ecstasy right here. She turns back to  look at me. Our eyes met for a moment before I quickly look back in the novel. 

She chuckles, shaking her head.  

Oh hell –yes,I will die- her dimples…. 

I set the unread novel down , walking to her as she sets catherine in the crib. 

I wrap my arms around her waist pulling her impossibly closer, “Sunshine  you…..are ineffable,” my breath catch in my throat as I stare -no, drown- into  her light brown eyes. 

She chuckled, her eyes lighting up with life I didn’t know existed before her…  before my sunshine …before my Amelia. 

“You were gawking, silly man” she stated, resting her hands on my shoulders. “ I’d prefer admiring, you know” I press a kiss her shoulder.  “Admiring what exactly? I look horrible,” she laughed, shaking her head. 

“Jesus won’t forgive such a lie sunshine” I said , setting her on the couch  sitting on the floor resting my head on her lap stroking her feet. 

I lean into her touch as she cups my face, my heart beats faster as her lips hover  over mine. She doesn’t know- Hell even I don’t know- why? 10 years into our  union- of me being hers -and still my heart skips a beat when she places her lips  over mine like falling for her every moment of my life. 

Her tongue tangled with mine as I deepen the kiss, my hands moving to her hair  gently threading through the dark brown strands, caressing thier way upto her suddenly a piercing cry. 

I groaned against her chest, “Bad timing kitten!’’ 

Amelia laughs , pressing her cheek to my hair, “She is certainly your daughter,”  she teased ,as the tears of mirth glistened her eyes. 

I pull away mock offended at her “Oh please, you know the senior etiquette  coach took lessons from me,” 

“Yeah sure, Your Highness The Duke of Rhiles,” She said her voice dripping  sarcasm. 

“Ha ha real funny sunshine,” I said sarcastically, as I walk to the crib picking up  Catherine- my kitten- in my arms. Her giggles - lord the sound I stay alive for filled the air. “Getting naughty aren’t you, sweetpea?” I said with a chuckle,  nuzzling my nose in her pink tinted cheek. She squirmed , her tiny hands  reaching grabbing my fingers.  

“Hey! Forgot me already?” Amelia joked, playfully slapping my arm. “One can’t forget how to breathe, Sunshine” I said , my gaze locking with hers. She smiled, pink tinting her cheeks, “I love you” She whispered. 

“ But I love my kitten more,” I teased her, gently rocking Catherine back to  sleep. 

“The only time I don’t get jealous, Cilly, but don’t get used to it ,” She said  resting her head on my shoulder. 

“Oh thank you for the mercy, sunshine” I said gently placing catherine in the  crib. I brush her hair back from her tiny forehead placing a gentle kiss on her  forehead.  

AMELIA

My family. Whole. Filled- no….overflowing with love that’s ours. I let out a sigh.  

Cillian looks back instantly, “Sunshine you okay? Back pain? Want to sit 

I cut him off ,“Slow down, slow down….I’m fine , just proud of my choices to  pardon your disaster proposal” I teased with a chuckle, holding back the sting of  tears as memories- NO…no no no no…..not now. 

Cillian didn’t roll his eyes. Didn’t chuckle at the comment. His gaze just  softened still rocking Catherine’s crib , “I’m here for you..You don’t have to  talk about it ” He knelt down before me. His thumb caressing my cheek ,with  overwhelming yet soothing gentleness.  

I look away, tears welling up my eyes. Present and past blurring with tears into  that day. 

10 years ago 

My hiccuping sobs fill the quiet room, but somehow his sharp inhales echo  louder in my ears.  

SLAP 

I cry out in pain. 

“STOP THIS DRAMA!BEFORE I GIVE YOU A REAL REASON TO CRY!” 

I flinch. Tears streaming down my face. Trying to press my hand tighter to my  mouth, trying so hard, but the 7 year old’s tiny fist couldn’t muffle this cry. 

Slap. 

Slap. 

SLAP. 

The hardest slap lands right above the scar from a week ago. I fell down to the  polished marble floor, sobbing now. 

“Pa..papa please.. it hurts” The voice so broken it shamed me even then. Seven.  Cheeks red- not from the winter frost, not like other children- almost purpulish.

“It hurts?! It hurts huh?!” His calloused hand grabs my arm. I could already  feel the red bruise booming underneath. “IT SHOULD! YOU INSOLENT  BRAT!” 

“Pa-papa i…I didn’t steal his colou-“ 

“LYING AGAIN HUH ?! JUST LIKE YOUR SLUT MOTHER!” 

The words landed harder than the slap.” DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY  MOTHER!” 

SLAP 

My lip split. Head dazed. Warm liquid trickling down the chin.Before I could  stand back up, his hand fisted in my hair, shoving me back.  

My tiny frame convulsed, reeling back.My hand reached out , expecting him to  take it, to hold- my head slams into the wall.  

The last thing I felt before the darkness took over, was the same warm red liquid  pouring down on the polished white marble.  

Red…..then darkness-not sudden- slow, almost mocking in the absence of a  hand to comfort. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears slipping down my face. “It’s just…I’m sorry  i…can’t talk about……” my voice broke. 

His hands cupped my face, “You can cry sunshine,” His blue eyes gazed into  mine filled with love , I never thought could exist, “But you’ll never cry aalone  not without me to hold you, I promised you before I promise you again. You  will never be alone” 

My eyes fill with fresh tears. He had said it before. The day I first time cried in  his arms .The day I revealed scars I never showed anyone. The day he was  enraged I can never forget how the anger drained from his being the moment  my eyes glistened, how the hands clenched into fists so tight his palms bled,  instantly softened in my hair. He had said it that day. He had said it every time  the past stormed in. And everytime I feel he can’t mean it more wholly, more  reverently. But he does, everytime he means with more and more pieces of  himself.

By Agrima Singh