I hadn’t been assaulted. I’d simply gotten caught being unfaithful. He even turned my father against me. Convinced him it was the only way to save face with his church.”
“You didn’t do what he asked of you, right?”
“No.” She offers me a soft smile. “For the first time in my life, I did what I believed to be right, instead of what someone demanded of me. The following Saturday night, while Sawyer was at the church rehearsing his sermon for the following day, I packed a bag and left.”
“Where did you go?”
“I called the only person I could think of. The only person I knew would help, no questions asked.”
“Who was that?”
“My roommate from my freshman year.” She blows out a laugh. “When you think about it, it’s kind of depressing. The people you’ve known all your life are the first to toss you out, but the ones you barely know will help you without judgment. And that’s what she did. She offered me her couch in her apartment in Atlanta without a hint of judgment. Just sympathy and compassion. So I jumped in my car and haven’t looked back since.”
I nod, my chest aching at everything she endured. Not only that night, but in the months to follow. How everyone who was supposed to help her and stand up for her abandoned her. It’s no wonder she pushed me away. If I were in her shoes, I probably would have done the same thing, worried I’d hurt her like everyone else in her life.
I slowly face her, struggling to come up with something meaningful to say in response. I’m sorry seems too trivial. Too inconsequential. So I do what she wanted all those years ago.
“Can I give you a hug?”
Her shoulders fall as she chokes out a sob, the sound echoing in the still evening air. “I’d really like that.”
Releasing my hold on her hand, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. I kiss the top of her head, rocking her gently.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I murmur.
A new wave of tears washes over her as she melts into me, clutching onto me as if I’m a life preserver, the only thing keeping her afloat.
“Thank you.” She nuzzles further into me, inhaling a deep breath before pulling back.
I cup her cheek. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes, Londyn. If you need time to figure things out, to learn to trust me, I’m okay with that. We can take this as slowly as you need. Just, please, don’t push me away again. I won’t abandon you like everyone else. I swear to you.”
“I appreciate that.” She smiles warmly at me, then stands, taking a few steps away. She peers into the distance, indecision covering her expression as she crosses a single arm over her stomach. “But I can’t ask you to wait for me.”
I rise to my feet, eating up the space between us. “But—”
She spins toward me. “It was your kiss that made me realize this.”
“My…kiss?”
“Yes.” She smiles slyly. “Your kiss.” When she clutches the lapels of my jacket, a thrill trickles through me, my pulse increasing. “It made me realize what I want.”
“And what’s that?”
“Everything.” Her gaze locks with mine. Then she drops her hold, stepping back. “But I’m messed up, Wes. For the past several years, I’ve made it my mission in life to do everything to prevent feeling the absolute helplessness I did that night. That I did for months to come afterward. I took self-defense classes—”
“That explains the boxing photos on your Instagram,” I remark.
She playfully pinches her lips together, a single hand on her hip. “You’ve been stalking my Instagram?”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “Maybe. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she admits, her expression softening for a moment. Then she steps toward me again. “But I need to work on myself. I thought by taking self-defense classes, by having no-strings sex again, I was taking back control. But they were just bandages on a wound that’s still festering. For five years now, I’ve ignored the source of the problem because the idea of allowing myself to be vulnerable again scares me more than snakes or heights combined. So I can’t stand here and ask you to wait for me, to be patient while I sort out my shit. That’s not fair to you, or to me. Because I don’t know if I’ll ever sort out my shit. I hope I can. But if I’m to finally heal from