I wake up and my head is pounding, it doesn't improve when I look at the time and remember why I am in bed at 6 pm. I feel a strong arm wrapped around me and shame floods my body. I ruined Warner's Christmas. He should be with his family and instead, he was here with me because I couldn't eat a cookie without going crazy.

I wanted to push him away like I had so many times before. The voice in my head was telling me he was sick of me, that he wanted a normal girlfriend who didn't cry over eating cake.

I quietly lift his arm and walk into my bathroom. I was in a pair of silk pyjamas, Warner must have changed them when he put me to bed. I cringed at the thought of him seeing my bloated body.

I shut the bathroom door behind me and lock it.

My hands still have chocolate on them from my binge. The evidence is under my fingernails. I could even still taste the bile in my mouth from purging. I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth harder than necessary. I brush them a second time for good measure.

Next, I wash my hands trying to wash off the guilt and the shame each crumb left.

Disgusting Pig

I'm scrubbing so hard my skin feels like it's going to peel off. It hurts. But I welcome the pain. I want to scream.

I throw the soap across the bathroom in frustration.

A few seconds later there is a tentative knock at the door. "Jules?"

I say nothing. I can't face him. I can't let him see how disgusting and broken I was.

Broken. That's what I was.

People had real problems, and here I was crying over food. I was pathetic. People were dying of horrible diseases, and I was sitting in the bathroom crying because I had no self-control. I want to scream. I don't want to feel this way anymore

I look at my reflection in the mirror, the bloodshot eyes the hollowed cheeks. I hated her. I hated her so much. I wanted her gone. I close my eyes, so I didn't have to look at her.

That wasn't enough. I grab the candle on the shelf and throw it at the full-length mirror in front of me.

Glass splinters in front of me, and shards of glass rain down around me.

"JULIET—Juliet"

The bathroom door flies open off the hinges.

I spin around.

Warner is standing there, face flushed, chest rising and falling, staring at me like I might be a ghost. He strides across the room before I have a chance to say a word and cups my face in his hands, his eyes searching me. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I lie my voice cracking. My face burns hot with shame, "No, I'm not fine." I can't lie to him anymore.

"What happened?" I sense Warner's eyes scanning my body, searching for where the shards of the mirror may have sliced me, but I know I was unharmed by it. The pain is elsewhere.

"I'm sorry" I chew my cheek so hard I draw blood. I hate that he has to see me like this.

"Juliet," Warner's voice is a near whisper. I refuse to look at the disgust he was sure to have on his face. Warner's hands cup my cheeks. "Look at me."

I keep my eyes shut. How could I face him? How could I after what he has seen?

"I am here. We are here together, as a team." He speaks to my lips, breathing into me. Pulling away, he rests his forehead on mine. "Open your eyes"

When I don't open them he wraps me up in his arms. He just holds me, one arm tight around my waist, the other holding the back of my head. I bury my face in his chest and the warmth of him is so familiar to me now. It comforts me and I feel my body relax already. He runs his hand up and down my back and tilts my face toward his. I finally look into his eyes, and he looks panicked and worried. His eyes are red-rimmed as if he himself had been crying.

"Do you want me to leave?" Warner asks and the pain in his eyes reminds me why he would ask me that. The last time I was upset I pushed him away, he was scared I would do it again.

"No," I say quickly. "No"

Warner's shoulders relax, just a little. "What happened baby?" he whispers and I open my mouth but can't get the words out.

"Please tell me what's wrong —" he says desperately. "Tell me what to do," he says, "and I'll do it"

I tremble as Warner strokes a strong hand down my bare arm. His warmth seeps into me. "She said I was a disgusting pig" I murmur into his chest and he stiffens. "She said she didn't want a daughter-" I choke up getting the words out "A daughter- like me."

"No," Warner said, his voice stronger.

"Do you think I'm a disgusting pig?" I ask him and I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth because he looks furious.

His eyes darken, but his hold on me remains gentle. He tips my chin up to look him directly in the eyes "You are perfect, inside and out and I will not let that woman say another word to you."

He picks me up like I weigh nothing and places me back on my bed. I am about to question what he is doing but he grabs my suitcases from my closet and starts packing my stuff up.

"Are we going somewhere?" my voice is weak.

"We are going as far away from this house as we can. Back to campus." He is taking his anger out on my poor clothes, throwing things into the suitcase harder than he needs to.

"Tell me if I miss anything and I'll drive back and get it for you. I'm not letting you go come back here with that monster of a woman."

I nod because I am afraid that I will start crying if I try to speak. If I didn't have Warner I would still be on the basement floor right now. I don't know what I would have done if he didn't come when he did.

_____

Warner is furious.

He was alive with it, pulsing with it. One hand clutches the steering wheel, knuckles white, while the other rested on the gearshift, flexing and unflexing like he wants to strangle someone.

The glow from passing streetlights illuminates the tense set of his mouth and the way his brows are bunched over his eyes. When I told him all of the things my mom did to me I almost disintegrated from the force of his fury.

"I'm okay," I lie, wrapping my arms around myself. My voice sounds scratchy and unsure. "Really".

That only made him more furious

"No, you aren't. What else has she said to you? What else has she done?"

I open my mouth to respond, but before I could come up with something, images and sounds slam into my brain, rendering me mute. Memories of my mom teaching me how to make myself throw up when I ate too much. My mom making me take my shirt off so she could take pictures of my body and put them on the walls of our home gym to keep me motivated.

Each memory hurts and it takes me a few minutes to get the words out. When I do my voice is shaky. "My mom was the one who showed me how to throw up after I 'messed up." She made me work out without a shirt for motivation and what's worse is if I ever had a good weigh-in I would be over the moon because it would make me feel loved. It was the only time she paid me any attention...it still is" tears streamed down my face as I laid down my darkest secrets.

I was crying now. Huge, heaving sobs, the kind that made my nose all snotty and my stomach hurt. Tears streamed down my cheeks and dripped off my chin onto the floor of his car.

"My mom hates me, Warner, she hates me." I gasp between my tears.

Maybe I'd finally broken, split apart for everyone to see. I'd always known I wasn't okay, with my neglected childhood and insecurities, but I'd been able to hide it. Until now.

I press the heels of my palms to my eyes. I was losing it.

A cool, strong hand touches my shoulder. I jerk remembering I'm not alone. That Warner was bearing witness to my sudden, humiliating breakdown I also hadn't noticed that we had pulled into the parking lot of our dorm building.

If he was furious before, he was crazed now. Not in a psycho, angry way—well maybe a little—but more in a panicked way. His eyes were wild, the muscle in his jaw clenching so hard I was worried for his teeth. He was beyond pissed. Like he wanted to burn the world down at seeing me like this and hearing what happened.

I suck in a shaky breath and wipe the tears from my face with the backs of my hands.

"I will not let this go." Warner's words slice through the air like lethal blades of ice. "I don't care that she is your mom. I will not let her get away with treating you like this. You need to give me a reason not to turn this car around and pay her a visit."

I should've been terrified by the violence in his eyes, but I felt safe. I always felt safe around him.

Warner closes his eyes. I reach out and trail my fingers down his neck. He was shaking with anger, and I truly believed he would turn this car around if I didn't calm him down.

"Because I just want to be here with you. I want to change into some ugly Christmas sweaters and try to enjoy the rest of the day. I hate that I ruined your Christmas...-" My words trail off as I try to get them out. I wanted to say more.

Warner's eyes shoot open and he looks angrier, I guess I didn't help much. "You did not ruin my Christmas. I am glad you told me what happened and having you finally trust me enough to let me in and not push me away is the best gift I received today."

He lets out a long sigh and finally unlocks the car doors. "I guess seeing you in an ugly Christmas sweater is enough for now."

He walks around and opens the passenger door for me and before I can stand on my feet he swoops me into his arms bridal style.

"I can walk" I squeal but I relax into him anyways. The thought of walking doesn't sound very fun. I just wanted to lay down and pretend none of today happened.

I snuggle into his chest and close my eyes. In Warner's arms, I am able to just focus on how warm his body feels against mine. I can listen to his heartbeat and at this moment I feel safe. I truly feel like my mom's words can't reach me. But I know this feeling won't last...it never does.

_____

I open my eyes to the darkness, fuzzy-brained and not quite out of my dream yet. Warner is lying next to me, in exactly the place he's supposed to be. He's got his elbow bent on the pillow, palm under the back of his head, watching me. His other hand is draped across his stomach. "Hi," I whisper

My pulse speeds up as I remember the events of yesterday, how he found me and what I told him. He spent his Christmas looking after me, he drove us to the dorm and stayed with me all night comforting me. He saw me ugly cry and let me snot all over his nice shirt. And not once did he look disgusted, not once did he try to leave.

He sits up, leaning over me. My vision is adjusting to the dark enough to clear the shadows from his face, and now I can see him.

"Hi", he whispers back and presses his lips gently to mine.

I loop my arms around his neck and tug him closer, in case he has any ideas of retreating after one kiss. He smiles against my mouth, closes his eyes and I melt into the feel of him against me. He breaks the kiss so he can travel down and kiss my neck. "You're so beautiful" he murmurs against my skin.

I pull away and look him over. I know every microscopic detail of his face. I know the shape of his brows for every emotion. He is the most beautiful man I've ever met. How many times had my gaze passed over him, not realizing he was looking back at me? Always watching. Listening.

"Thank you." A tear slips over my cheek, which he kisses away.

I'm falling apart and I think that Warner sees.

His hand is warm as it passes through my hair. His eyes are so tender that my muscles involuntarily relax, fingers uncurling. He buries his face in my throat and inhales. "You need help, Juliet."

My name trembles in the air. And speech has never been so hard to find. I knew this was coming but I still wasn't ready.

"I know" my voice is barely a whisper but he hears it and his body relaxes.

"You can't get better because I want you to. You have to get better because you want to. Because you deserve better." His voice is trembling and I'm glad I can no longer see his face because the sight of it would make me break down more.

He was right. I needed to do this for myself but it was so hard.

"I don't want to feel like this. Sometimes it just feels like such a burden" I whisper

He looks at me, his eyes so open and trusting that my heart ached. "Then let me help carry it."