inched up the driveway at a snail’s pace. Until I glared
and swatted his arm. “He’s the fruit of
my loins,” I justified. “I’m protective over him.”
“I think I’m jealous.”
“Shut up.”
“What? He’s gotten to spend
nine months nestled in the cradle of those loins. I’ve only gotten
to spend minutes there. I think he’s the luckier of us two.”
“Your brain is seriously
warped.”
“You love my warped brain.”
Love was a big word to define
anything in our ‘relationship’ at this point. I wondered if that’s
what this was—a relationship. How loosely did he use the term? I
didn’t want to think about it too hard. I clung to the latter of
his suggestion and decided to take it one day at a time.
“What was it like?” Tate asked curiously.
“What was what like?”
“Pregnancy. Birth. It’s sort of
a miracle, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess it sort of is.”
I mustn’t have sounded very convincing because he turned his head
to steal a glance.
“You don’t think so?”
“I do.” I lifted my shoulder in
a half shrug, and turned to stare out the window. “But honestly, I
didn’t get to enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong. I love Levy, but I
wasn’t in a good place at the time.”
“There I go again, asking
questions. Making you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine.” I forced a
smile . It was weak and watered down by
the subject. “I came to terms long ago. Besides, you’re not the
first one to ask questions.”
“So what was it like?”
“The ugly truth or a roundabout answer?”
“Whatever you feel comfortable
sharing. We’re out to have fun today. I don’t want to spoil it with
my avid curiosity.”
“Oh, it’s in me. It lingers in
my soul like a little black stain. I think once that kind of
darkness touches a person it stays with them forever. Whether you
ask questions or not, there isn’t a day it doesn’t cross my mind.”
Tate stole another glance in my direction. The mischievous glint
was gone from his eyes. “I’m not broken. I know that’s what you’re
thinking.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just…that was
profound. And you’re so blasé about it. I wonder… Christ, I wonder
how did this happen to you, how did he get you under his thumb when
you’re so damn strong?”
“Do you really want to know all
this? Do you want to go there?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
I didn’t want him to look at me
differently. I couldn’t take that. But the question would always
remain at the back of his mind. He would look at me differently in any case . And if he was going to walk,
I’d rather have him walk now before I grew too attached. It was
obvious he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d invited himself to stay
another night. Whatever that meant.
I tried not to dwell on it.
“Where to start… Gosh, I don’t
know. I was young , n ot that I’m old now.”
I snorted to myself. I felt old.
“But I was eighteen , f resh out of high
school. I moved entirely across the country. I was adventurous, you
know? I wanted to travel the world. But it wasn’t as easy as I
thought. I knew no one there. I had no friends. And this great guy
approached me during lunch one day , a sked
if he could share my table. Naturally, I said yes. He was good
looking , c ourteous ,
s weet. He s wept me off my feet.
Before long, friends, a social life, even class eventually seemed
unimportant. He eclipsed everything else in my life.
“I suppose that was a
sign , b ut I was in love. You know what
they say —l ove makes us blind. So I
disregarded his jealousy , t he insults and
accusations , t he bruises. They started
off small , f ingertips where he would
squeeze my arm too hard. Slowly, they progressed , b ecame intentional, punishing , controlling in manner ,
but I stayed. I enabled him, accepting his excuses and his
apologies. Like I said, he was manipulative. It was always my
fault.
“We’d fight , really fight , and trust me, I used my lungs.
Things would escalate. Then one
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