“Are you getting in, then?” Cal mixes the hot and cold water as if he’s getting the temperature right for a small child.
I pull my good arm through my top and tug at the other. Cal sees my struggle and lifts the pyjama top over my head, pulling the sleeve from the cast on my arm. My breasts sag against my belly, and I hold them up, partly covering them with my good arm.
Cal points to my bottoms. “Do you need me to take those off too?”
“I can manage now.”
“I’ll get the cling film for your cast?” He leaves me to undress alone. I tug at the waistband and shimmy my pyjamas down, wincing with every movement.
My knickers drop to the floor with my bottoms, and I grit my teeth as I lift my leg over the side of the tub. Clinging on to the edge of the bath, I lift my other leg in. Callum walks back into the bathroom with cling film just as I’m doubled over with my arse in the air.
“Here, let me wrap this around your arm. You don’t want to get it wet.”
“I’ll be glad to get this pot off in a few days.” I stand, covering myself with my hands and arm.
He doesn't look at me, his eyes don't rake my body like they used to with passion and want and need. He just unravels the cling film. Takes hold of my pot that was hiding my saggy breasts and wraps the clear plastic over the cast until it’s covered completely.
“Have you turned into a hardcore feminist?” He grins.
“What do you mean?”
He nods at my hairy legs.
“Oh piss off, this is why I didn't want you helping me into the bath.” Heat spreads up my thighs as my body breaks out in gooseflesh. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.
“Calm down. I'm only joking.” He chuckles. “Besides, I’m all for the European look.”
I bend down to sit, using my good arm to lower myself. He quickly slips an arm around my back. “Lean onto me. I’ve got you.” I lean back as he lowers me into the bath.
The bubbles cover my hairy legs, but nothing can hide the heat painting my face. My cheeks must be glowing.
I hold my hand out. “Pass me a razor.”
“Razor? You’re gonna need hair clippers, or maybe a hedge trimmer.” He chuckles.
“Are you done? If you’re just going to embarrass me—”
“You know I love teasing you. It makes no difference to me how hairy you are.”
I sigh. He doesn’t care. I mean, why would he? It’s not like he’ll be kissing my legs and running his tongue up the inside of my thigh any time soon—if ever again.
“I want to shave. I feel scruffy.”
He rummages through his wash bag on the windowsill and a box of condoms falls out. He stuffs them back in his bag and hands me a razor. “It's a new one and as you can tell, I hardly use it, so be careful. Do you want me to do it for you?”
“No way, it's bad enough you seeing me like this. I'm not having you shave my legs as well.” My stomach twists thinking about the condoms. I can’t bear to think of him with anyone else. Did he buy them recently? Has he been seeing someone?
* * *
CAL
“Doyou need help washing your hair?” I unravel the bobble from her low ponytail.
“I can manage.”
I was hoping she would say yes. “Shout me when you want to get out, yeah?”
“Hmm.” She hums, leaning back in the bath with her cast resting over the side as she closes her eyes. I leave her to it, but prop the door open so I can listen out for her.