Page 63 of Once Upon a Fable

I deleted him from my existence.

I honestly didn’t care what he’d do.

But then...he was gone.

His finger left a slight burn where he’d touched me, his body leaving a small cloud of his sunshine and shadow scent.

It took a stupidly long time to understand that he’d not only left the bathroom but the bedroom too. He’d left me. Alone. Just like I’d asked.

And that was when I truly cried.

The sob couldn’t be contained, and I crawled to the door on my handsand knees. I slammed it shut as tears gushed down my cheeks. I scrambled to my feet and stumbled to the toilet.

Ripping off my leggings, I cried even harder as I sat on the cool porcelain and let go.

The relief was instant.

The gratefulness for his disappearance immense.

My body purged, and once it was over, I shook with hunger, fear, and tiredness.

I’d never been so twisted and knotted. I’d never been denied cleanliness or safety. Now that I’d been granted a few moments alone with a shower nearby and my stomach no longer in agony, I couldn’t ignore the pull.

I should launch myself out the window and run.

I should throw caution to the wind and get as far away from here as I could.

But...I’d always been a savvy climber. I was the smart one with the right equipment, enough rations, gear, and technology to prevent a tragedy like the one I’d stupidly fallen into.

And if I ran now, I wouldn’t last long.

I barely had any food in my system. I had no water. It was dark, which meant I couldn’t see where I had to go. I could end up breaking a leg or falling off the cliff as I attempted to escape.

And besides, I’d made a promise.

I’d said I’d stay if he left me alone. If I failed and he brought me back, I would never get another chance to cultivate his trust. To plot a better escape. One where I would succeed.

Tomorrow.

Survive tonight.

Run tomorrow.

With a racing heart, I tore at my dirty clothing.

I kicked off my hiking boots along with my leggings and underwear. Unzipping my windbreaker, I ripped off my hoodie, t-shirt, and exercise bra and threw them all into the corner.

Naked and highly aware I still had streaks of his dried cum on my chest—even after washing the best I could in the dungeon—I darted into the shower and turned on the tap.

Icy water hit me.

It felt sublime.

I didn’t mind it was cold or that my shaking increased until my teeth chattered and kneecaps bounced. I’d never enjoyed a shower as much as this. Never felt so baptized from dirt or refreshed by liquid.

Water sluiced over my face as I tipped my head under and gasped at the chill. My hair plastered down my back. With eyes blinking back droplets, I grabbed the gold-wrapped soap and tore it open, running the flowery scented suds from the top of my head right to my toes.

Heaven.