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“Umm,” I hesitate, not sure if I should answer this question.
“I’m not asking as his person, Thea. I’m asking as yours,” he clarifies, making my stomach flutter. He’s looking at me thoughtfully, oozing with silent support and I eat it up. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone to lean on.
“I did resent him for a while. It was really hard dealing with my mom by myself. We were both so sad all the time and it ruined most of my high school experience, but once I went to college I realized why he had left. It was freeing to get away from the memories. Undergrad was some of the best years of my life. Then…” I stop, not sure what to say.
“Then, what?”
“I came home for the summer before grad school and everything changed.”
“About six years ago,” he states, not needing to ask.
“Yeah.”
He turns onto his back suddenly, but I hardly flinch. I’m not worried if he’ll respect my boundaries. I know he won’t touch me and that knowledge is freeing. I can relax in his presence and honestly, I’m so comfortable that I don’t want to move.
“I want you to tell me, but only when you’re ready.” He looks at me so genuinely, with so much care in his eyes, it makes me want to tell him but I can’t. Saying the story out loud is terrifying.
“Can I try something?” He speaks again, letting me off the hook.
“Like, what?”
“I want to brush your hair.” He sits up, letting me see his entire upper half unobstructed for the first time and I think a little drool escapes me. He’s perfect. Every muscle I had imagined on him is firm and sculpted. Even in the dim room, I can tell that his shoulders are broad, and his stomach is lean.
The sparse blonde hair on his chest is lighter than his other hair and almost invisible but gets slightly darker as it gets lower beneath his belly button.
“Uh, sure,” I answer without thinking, too distracted by his body. It takes the entire length of time for him to get my brush off the dresser and to sit back on the bed for me to realize what he asked, and what I agreed to. “Wait.”
“I won’t touch you. If you aren’t ready, I understand.”
Of course he understands, he’s the most kind and caring person in the world. He would never do anything to harm me. I can do this. I’m safe. I repeat that mantra over and over as I sit up and face away from him.
“Ready?” His voice is barely above a whisper right behind me.
“Yeah.” I squeeze my eyes shut, picturing him behind me. The brush makes contact and I still. It’s Jesse, he won’t hurt me. I repeat it in my head, but it’s not helping.
I try grounding myself instead. I’m in my room. I can see my dresser. I feel my bed. I can hear the whirring of my air conditioning. Jesse is behind me. Jesse is brushing my hair. He won’t hurt me. He cares about me.
Except, it doesn’t work. My thoughts are being carried away faster than I have a chance to control them. The image I have of him behind me starts glitching in my head. It fades in and out, replacing itself with the memory of the face I never want to see again.
I thought I could do this but the initial trickling of fear starts to escalate. Before I know it, my muscles are tensing and my anxiety is turning to panic.
“Stop.” The brushing immediately ceases and I take more than a few calming breaths before I can speak again. “I’m sorry.” I breathe out, burying my face in my hands, embarrassed. I’m so weak.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.” His regretful voice sweeps over me and with it a calmness. Hearing him speak instantly eases my fear, bringing me back to the present and out of the past.
I can do this. I have to.
“I think… I want to keep trying, but I need a second.” I get off the bed to turn the light on, brightening all the dark shadows that have taken over. Seeing him even more clearly now that the light is on, I try not to melt where I’m standing.
The distraction works to soothe the rest of my nerves and I forget for a moment why I stood up. He cocks his head at me when I don’t stop staring at him.
“Sorry.” I’m not sorry.
“You’re allowed to look, Thea.” He laughs and although his smile is at my expense, I soak it in.
“Right. About that… Will you come over here and sit on the floor with me?” I point to where my floor-length mirror sits.
“I’ll do anything you ask, Sunshine.” I can tell that he means it and my cheeks warm.
