When I shiver, he absentmindedly slips off his favorite leather jacket and holds it out. I drape it backward over my shoulders and pull my knees under. Almost a Levi hug. It smells just like him.
Uncharacteristically, he slumps in his chair and stares at the wall behind me. He’s silent but his eyes speak for him, morphing to horror. My favorite light in those eyes fully extinguishes.
“Levi. Please talk to me?”
When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Do I … do I remind you of him?” He won’t look at me. “Is that why you never ride in my front seat? And the time you did—” He manages to glance over and then away again. “Is that why you hated me before you met me? I thought you were nervous around me because … Is that why you don’t want me to … to touch you?”
I don’t have words.
“All this time.” His voice wavers. “I’ve been making this worse for you?”
Uh, God? What do I say? I don’t know what to do here.
I shrug his jacket to my legs. “Levi, look at me. You’re nothing like him. You’re kind and gentle and patient. You listen—You listen when I say no. You’re not like him.”
With effort, he holds my gaze.
“When I first saw you …” I’m not sure how to say any of this. I want to get it right, for his sake. “There were some broad similarities. Confidence, popularity with girls, that sort of thing. That’s why I avoided you, even though I was immediately—” I shouldn’t finish that sentence. “Uh, even though I normally would have wanted to talk to you. I don’t know if it would be different with someone else. I haven’t so much as shaken a guy’s hand since … since that. I don’t ride in any guys’ front seats. Except with family. There are other … triggers. Rain, doors slamming, yelling, that kind of thing.”
He nods slowly. He’s been paying attention.
“But I do have more flashbacks with you.” I study my hands. “If someone brushes by me in the hall, I’m fine, but if you touch me … sometimes it’s really bad. I’ve wondered if … strong attraction was part of all of this. That’s why I considered going out with Matt.” I squirm in my seat.
On one hand, the dam of secrecy has finally been smashedto bits, and a flood of relief splashes into every crevice inside me. On the other hand, dragging Levi into this mess is unbearable. I don’t want to leave him with my burden. I won’t let him take an ounce of blame for my pain. It’s my brokenness, my dysfunction.
“I hate this part of me,” I say. “I hate that I’m broken.”
That light bulb is back above his head. “You didn’t tell me because you’re ashamed?”
Ashamed. That feeling has never been named in my head. I’m ashamed? “Um. Maybe. That sounds”—my voice catches and answers my question—“right somehow. About what happened and about getting stuck.”
“But none of that is your fault.”
“I mean”—I fight the tears threatening to make this awkward for everyone—“it is though. And I deserved much worse.”
“No.” His face is stern, his voice indignant. “It’s not your fault. You deserved—How can you say that?”
“I take responsibility for my actions. I knew I shouldn’t date him. My parents had a bad feeling about him. I knew deep down. I didn’t know that would happen, but I could have prevented it. I could have done so many things differently. And my dress. I?—”
“Kit, no. No. You cannot take responsibility for”—jaw clench—“for his choices. It’s not your fault. No one could ever deserve that. No.”
I swipe frantically at the spilling tears. “It’s not fair that God spared me. So many girls deserve better and suffer far worse. It’s not fair.”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand it either. But they don’t deserve that and neither did you.”
The jacket falls to the floor and we leave it there. I hang my head, cover my face, and sob. I can’t manage to do anything else.
I finally brave a glance up, wiping my face. His expression full of care makes me think maybe it’s okay. I bend down for his jacket and squeeze it like a teddy bear, clutching the soft leather.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Levi’s face scrunches up. “That you have to remember it all the time. I’m so sorry I’ve been showing up everywhere, asking more of you …” He trails off.
I shake my head as my chest aches. I wish I could take it back. It was better to struggle with it myself than to be the cause for the pain on his face. I thought if he understood he would leave for good, not that he would leave for my good.
“You said it was impossible. I should have just listened.”
“No, I was being so confusing. I loved spending—” The chapel door creaks.
Levi dons his imperial look for a split second before thinking better of it. He sends me a rueful smile and turns. “Come on in, man. We can head out.”
