As she met his gaze, she realized he understood. He slowly shifted his hand back and cradled her cheek. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . .” He paused, clearly uncertain of what to say, much like she was in uncharted territory. She hadn't planned on becoming involved with a man so soon. Hadn't imagined how to handle someone seeing her ruined body. “It's okay. Just don't touch, okay,” she said and then quickly added, “Please.” He hadn't meant to trespass and truth be told, she had liked her time with him so far. “I won't, Jasmine. I understand,” he said, only he couldn't. He couldn't understand what it was to look at yourself and see those wounds. Or worse, look at yourself and not understand what was going on inside your head when fear took over and nothing, absolutely nothing, could make it right. “I'm tired,” she said, only it wasn't just about getting sleep. She was tired of the constant battle inside her lately. A battle that had left her for a moment when she had lost herself with him.
