She rejects my words, that head of hers shaking vehemently. “I’m not strong enough.”
I frown, irritated by the lack of belief she holds in herself. “Not possible,” I condemn, forcing myself to stand tall. “Because even if by some reason you falter, you’re forgetting your reinforcements.”
That offers her pause, the incessant shaking of her head stopping, confusion settling in its place. “Huh?”
“Me,” I declare. “At your back. Holding you up and helping you push those fucked up fears down. I’m an impenetrable wall, baby, and I’ve got your back.”
Her face softens. “Why don’t you let people know that you’re good? Why do you force us to only see the villain?”
Scratching at the hair along my chin, I shake my head. “We’re not talkin’ about me, Camryn.”
I watch her inhale deeply. “I fell in love when I was eighteen,” she starts. “My first year of college. That stupid teenage love that you’re convinced will last forever. I thought he was my everything.”
“How long did it last?”
“The relationship?” she tests and I nod.
“Four years. Eighteen months of young, happy love. Two and a half years of pure vitiated hell.” There’s no emotion in her voice. No feeling of love or despair, or hostility or heartache. Just… nothing.
“I was isolated from my family, the few friends I’d made in class abandoned me because he was such a dick. I was just too blind to see it. At first anyway.”
My anger starts off small, tiny stab wounds of fury poking at my shoulders. Typical predator, he needed her weak to feel powerful.
“By the time I realized how poisonous he was, I was pretty much as alone as any one person could be. I was ashamed at the position I’d put myself into. I was so fucking stupid.” Her head shakes in disgust. “I pushed Codi away. I pushed my dad away. They stopped calling, thinking I was too busy with my new life to care about them.”
She swipes at the tears falling down her cheeks without permission, not wanting to give him the ability to make her cry anymore.
“He controlled everything about my life and in the end, I let him.” Too ashamed to look at me as she speaks, her eyes focus on the floor, the soft mumble of her voice almost too low to hear. “When I ate, what classes I’d attend, what I did socially, when we’d fuck.” Her voice splits open, cracking along the word like a lashing across her back.
He starved her when he felt the need.
Isolated her because he could.
Dictated her life because he tore her down for her to think his wants were hers.
He raped her because he could overpower her.
I’d kill him if I ever have the chance.
“I’d fight.” She finally looks at me, her tone begging me to believe her. “Sometimes. I’d fight sometimes. He’d hit me. I think he enjoyed it more when I fought. When he could subdue me.”
It catches her then. The pain she’d been avoiding by slicing her leg open. Face falling into her open palms, her sobs overwhelm her. The agony she’d caused herself by holding it in letting go like a dam wall breaking, a tidal wave of truth surging forward, destroying everything in its wake.
“I was nothing. He knew it and he made sure I did too.”
I don’t move. My body itching to comfort her, but her shame strong enough to keep me at bay. She doesn’t want my pity. She doesn’t want my comfort. She needs this. She needs to cleanse herself of the toxicity he injected into her life. To share the ugly parts of her soul and know that doesn’t make her less of a person. To release some of the burden and know that someone else will hold it for her. That I’ll hold it for her.
She cries for a long time. Her tears brimming like the crest of a waterfall; unrelenting and freefalling. I like that she’s comfortable enough to cry in my presence. She hasn’t attempted to stop, to flee or apologize. It’s the most real version of Camryn I’ve seen, that anyone has seen.
She’s breaking and healing in front of me and it’s the most courageous thing I’ve ever seen another person do.
“How’d you get out?”
The back of her hand rubbing along her nose, she sniffs ungraciously. “Codi came to visit. One of his friends took a liking to her.”
Her head shakes, the fear of her thoughts spiking.