She gently peeled off her clothes, leaving them in a neat pile on the bathroom rug. Turning the handle, she turned the shower to maximum heat.

It was impossible not to look at herself in the mirror as she climbed in. Bruises everywhere, like she had a horrible affliction of some sort. Maybe she did. Her face was the worst- it had been irritated by stubble and unwanted lips. A handmark on her waist caught her attention- too bad. It was unsightly.

She was aware of the hot-water sensation pounding on her back, but only dully so. It meant nothing. She saw the steam rising from her skin, the water trying to heal what couldn’t be, and had no reaction. It didn’t matter.

Sinking down to the shower floor, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head against her knees. If she didn’t talk about it, it didn’t happen. If she didn’t think about it, it was all a lie. Nothing was wrong.

Nothing at all.