AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You have no idea what it’s like to come from a family like mine,” she started, running full speed before she could change her mind. “Your family is…” she struggled to find the right word. “Nice.”
“Natalia, I want to understand what you’re saying to me,” Samantha said like a hostage negotiator afraid to make the wrong move. “Would you consider sitting down more and shouting less?”
Natalia dropped her shoulders and ran her hands over the soft material of the robe. She hadn’t noticed her raised voice, but her throat burned with the truth of it.
Instead of taking the space next to Samantha on the couch, she took the armchair furthest from her.
“I want to know absolutely everything you want to tell me.” Samantha slid to the end of the couch, sitting on the edge of her seat and holding Natalia in a gaze so warm it was nearly unbearable. “Nothing you tell me is going to scare me away.”
The last shred of Natalia that believed in anything but herself flickered. She wanted Samantha to be telling the truth. But desire and fact were roads that didn’t cross.
“While your parents were celebrating you taking a girl to your senior prom, mine were busy kicking me out of my house for being gay,” Natalia said flatly, like the thirty-one-year-old memories didn’t still sting.
Samantha closed her eyes like she’d felt Natalia’s pain in her body. “I am so sorry?—”
“Don’t blow your sympathy load yet, darling, that’s the least of it.” Natalia’s jaw tensed. “I left at eighteen with absolutely nothing and had no choice but to go to a shelter.”
She refused to let her emotions bubble up in her chest, shutting it down before it slithered into her eyes. She hadn’t felt sorry for herself then, and she wouldn’t do it now that it was over.
“Natalia—”
“We’re still not to the good part, Samantha.” Her tone was the blade of a knife, sharp and unforgiving, but she couldn’t think about softening her delivery. “It only took me a year to get out of there,” she said, leaving out the miserable details. “And it wasn’t that place that made me unsuitable for romantic consumption. It wasn’t the shitty jobs I took until I managed to find a scholarship to help me pay my own way through college. Or my first rat and roach infested apartment — a very illegally converted garage without running water, but close enough to campus that I could ride my bike because the bus was unreliable.”
Every word Natalia uttered was another line creasing in Samantha’s forehead. She shuddered to think how the woman would crumble if she weren’t leaving out specifics.
“It wasn’t even that my parents died without making amends,” she said, voice faltering. “My mother made attempts over the years, but never with an apology for letting my father throw me on the street like garbage.” She swallowed her only regret and got to the point. “It was Kate,” she spat the name she hadn’t spoken in decades.
“Natalia, that’s a lot on its own.” Samantha looked like she was about to cry. Like she wanted to do something absurd, like reach out and comfort her.
She leaned back and crossed her legs, making it clear she didn’t need coddling. She never had. “I was nineteen and Kate was thirty.”
Samantha’s eyes widened. “That’s a… large gap in experience.”
Digging her fingernails into her palm, Natalia kept herself steady. “I was nineteen and naïve and alone and I had absolutely nothing in the world to hold on to but Kate. I had no idea what love was. How easy it is to confuse with something else when you’re desperate.” Natalia steeled herself, chin high. “I also had no idea how slowly abuse could start. How very easy it is to do things you don’t want to do. Because who the fuck was going to tell me?” She cleared her throat, body trembling against her will. “But I’m a quick learner, and I do not make the same mistakes twice. I vowed all those years ago that I would never be weak. That I would never teach someone exactly how to hurt me. Not ever. And if there’s one thing about me, Samantha, I do exactly what I say I’m going to do.”
“I don’t have the words for how sorry I am,” Samantha said, eyes like an agonized terrier. “But you said it yourself. Mistreatment is not love. That’s not what healthy relationships are like,” she continued, voice gentle.
“Taking care of myself has served me just fine.” She crossed her arms.
“I’m not going to disagree with you.” Samantha slipped off the couch and got on her knees, her hands warm on Natalia’s knees. “But I need you to know that letting someone in is not weakness. It’s the bravest thing you can do. Choosing not to turn away something good because of the bad things you’ve endured in the past—” She shook her head. “That takes serious guts.”
Natalia clenched her jaw, frustration rising as her attempts to push Samantha away failed yet again. She had bared her most shameful secrets, shown the ugliest parts of herself, but Samantha remained inexplicably gentle and open.
What did she have to do to make her understand? To prove they had no future? Samantha’s capacity to meet cruelty with compassion was infuriating.
Exasperated, Natalia asked again, “What do you want from me?”
Samantha rubbed her thumb over her skin, a loving gesture she must have picked up from her mother. As if Natalia needed another reminder that they were fundamentally incompatible. That they could never understand one another.
“What are you willing to give?” Samantha repeated, voice more fragile than a dried leaf and more likely to crumble under a careless thumb. “Because I’ll tell you what I’m willing to give.” She stood. “I’ll give you the rights to the book. And my trust for you to stomp under your very sexy shoes.” The corner of her mouth twitched into a momentary smile. “And with that trust comes my heart. For you to do with as you like. There is not a single thing you’ve said tonight that makes me not want to keep getting to know you. That doesn’t make me want you more. You’re even more resilient than I knew. And the fact that you’ve devoted yourself to making sure other queer kids don’t end up alone and fodder for predators… that just shows me exactly who you are. And that’s a person I?—“
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Natalia rolled her eyes, grateful that they were still dry. “You can’t sign your rights away because of my sob story?—”
“It’s not a sob story, Natalia. It’s who you are. And I’m so honored that you shared that with me. Over time, I hope I can earn your trust and know more.”
“Know more?” Natalia nearly laughed. “Do you have some kind of trauma fetish?”
Samantha sat on the couch again. “You know, Blanca has been giving me a really hard time since you came into the bookstore that night,” she started, absolutely nonsensically. “She’s been on me about not really putting myself out there after Sofia. She’s convinced that I’ve only allowed relationships with an expiration date stamped on the side. And then even my parents seemed to agree.” She ran her hand through her hair, making the mess worse. “And I hate being wrong more than anything. Like really hate it.” She smiled again. “But damn if they weren’t right. The loss I endured, it nearly broke me. And I haven’t been in any hurry to put my heart on the line.”
