Unraveling (Second Chances) - By Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,57

closer. “I’m so, so, sorry that you had to go through that. No one ever should.”

“Now, you understand why I am the way I am,” I whispered into his chest. “Why I don’t want to be touched, why I won’t let anyone close to my heart, why I’m afraid to love again.”

“Why have you let me get close to you, Katy?” he ran his hand down my arm to further drive home his point. “What’s different about me?”

“Everything.” The one word filled the room, echoing around the both of us. I could feel Jared taking it in, absorbing it. “Everything is different about you.”

21

WE LAY THERE, IN THE QUIET, neither one of us saying anything, our breathing the only orchestra.

We didn’t need words to understand each other. Somehow, some way, we were connected.

I stayed curled against his side, a smile curving my lips, because I didn’t want to pull away. I wasn’t ready for more with Jared, but feeling him against me… it was nice. It made me feel normal, something I hadn’t felt in two years.

I had believed that I was ruined forever, that I would never want anyone to touch me, ever.

Maybe that would have been the case if Jared hadn’t come along.

Jared had changed everything.

He made me feel again, without a single touch.

His words, his actions, brought a spark back in me.

“Thank you,” I said, breaking the quiet.

“For what?” his chest rumbled with his words.

“For being what I always needed, for making me feel again,” my cheeks flamed at my words. Here I was, practically confessing that I loved him, moments after telling him that my ex-boyfriend raped me.

“No, Katy,” he turned and folded me against him, so that we were face to face. “You are what I’ve always needed. Before you came along,” he smoothed my hair back from my forehead, “I didn’t know what I was missing. I didn’t know what I was capable of.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

“Of loving,” he whispered.

“Why would you think that?” I looked at him quizzically.

“A deal is a deal, right?” he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, running his fingers forcefully through his hair. “You’ve told me about your past, it’s time for me to tell you about mine. I want us to trust each other,” he turned back towards me, cupping my chin. “I want to know you, inside and out, and I want you to know me. I think we both deserve that, the truth. I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what?” I asked, as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, causing me to tremble.

“I’m scared you won’t look at me the same way,” his thumb dropped from my lip and I shivered from the loss of heat.

“Jared,” I whispered into the dark room. “I just told you I got raped. I think I can handle your past.”

“You’re right,” he said, softly. “If anyone can, it’s you. You have to understand though, I’ve never told anyone. Not even Karlie knows the whole truth.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said, bracing myself. “And I know you won’t tell anyone what I’ve told you.”

Jared got up and closed the door, before lying back down beside me.

He looked up at the ceiling, pulling me against him. I rested my palm over his heart and the steady thumping centered me.

“My dad… wasn’t a good man. He was an angry, violent, drunk. He beat my mom until she was black and blue and did the same to me. So many times, the teachers at school would ask me what had happened and I’d lie. I’d tell them I fell down the steps or that I was just clumsy. I came up with so many excuses for him, because he was my dad and I didn’t want him to go to jail. He… he raped my mom one night. I heard it. She kept begging him to stop and there was nothing I could do. I was only seven and too scared to call the cops because I thought he would kill us. I was terrified. Nine months later, Karlie was born. He lessened the beatings while she was pregnant, but didn’t stop them.

“When Karlie was born, I convinced myself things would get better. Oh boy, was I wrong,” Jared covered his face with his hands. “Karlie cried all the time and it made my dad so angry, he’d take that out on my mom and me. The beatings got worse and worse. It went from some bruises and a black