The abruptness of his motion startled her, and she clutched at her head. A stray thought suggested if she could just throw up she’d feel better, but she didn’t trust it. When he came back wth the clothes, she glanced at him, then back to the pile of fabric, and frowned slightly before shrugging.
She did turn her back to him while she pulled on the clothes, wondering what he saw. Then she curled herself back into the corner of the couch, in the smallest possible ball, obedient to his will.
Derek waited for her to appear before he brought a book into his hands. He had picked the least depressing one that he had in his collection. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t very cheerful. He looked over to her with a raised brow. “What’s wrong?”
She made a kind of facial shrug, accompanying it with the lift of a single shoulder. She didn’t know how to explain it to him, this conviction that if she wasn’t good enough, if she didn’t behave the way he wanted, he would withdraw his welcome. She still couldn’t figure out why he even cared.