Remington’s face is passive and stone-like. I can tell he’s trying to control his rage and emotions for my sake, so I continue. “Everything I did was a direct reflection on my father, good or bad. And I triedso hardto do it all just right, to make him happy. My mom was there to poke me along and try to keep just enough peace, but it was always tense. Cal was the perfect one, and I was constantly the problem.”
Pausing I take a deep breath.
“I didn’t like swimming at all, but the country club they were a part of had a pool. Lots of their friends had fancy houses with pools too, including us. Swimming was a requirement, but water always made me uneasy. Instead of getting me lessons when I was really little and making me comfortable, he just threw me in the water one day.”
Remington sucks in a breath. “Your dad?”
“Yeah, right into our pool. I was twelve, but he knew I never liked being in the water, could not really swim, and was afraid. He told me he was sick of me being an embarrassment, only hardly being able to doggie paddle around in the shallow end, never putting my face in, and I needed to get over it. He picked me up and tossed me right into the deep end. I thought I was going to die. Obviously, I didn’t. Somehow I managed to get to the side and pull myself out, and when I did ... he was gone. He walked away, left me in there all alone.”
I can feel the anger pouring off of him now, and Remington stands up and starts to pace in front of me. “What in the actual fuck!”
“He claimed that it never even happened. I was told I made the whole thing up, because afterward he did sign me up for swimming lessons. They were at the country club, private lessons with one of his friend’s older sons. He was in high school. I had to go twice a week ... for two years.” I let out a breath, not wanting to tell him more, but knowing I need to get this out. Nobody but my therapist knows this part of my life.
“I still wouldn’t put my face in the water after what had happened. I was terrified. I felt like I was suffocating, and it made me panic every time I got close. The instructor told me I just needed to relax, that he would h-help me.” I swing my sad eyes to Remington, and he is frozen in place.
“Lainey,” he whispers, knowing nothing good comes next.
“He t-touched me.” I can barely get the words past my lips. “I was s-so young, and I had no idea what was really going on. He told me that it was part of my lessons, that it was h-helping me get ready to be a good swimmer. My dad was paying for me to go to these, these private lessons, to be t-tortured and I couldn’t do any-anything.” A sob rips from my lungs and Remington is right there, where I need him.
“You didn’t tell anyone?” he asks softly.
“I told my dad that I didn’t like the lessons. That they made me uncomfortable, but he told me that he didn’t have time to listen to me complain. He told me I was b-beingungrateful.” The shaking in my body returns as I remember that day, the hopelessness and knowing I was utterly alone.
“What happened?” Remington cautiously asks.
“He went away to college. My ‘lessons’ stopped, and I obviously never learned toactuallyswim.” I wipe my eyes and sit back.
“Who is he?Wherethe fuck is he?” Remington’s voice is deeply menacing, and his eyes are full of pain for me, a promise of destruction for the person that tortured me.
“It’s okay—” I start to say but he cuts me off.
“The fuck it’s not!” he roars, making me jump. “This sick bastard hurt you, Lainey, a child. And who knows if he did it to someone else—is doing itto someone else?”
“He’s not,” I whimper.
“You can’t know that.”
“Yes, I can,” I say more sharply than I intend.
“How, how can you know that? Where is he? Has he tried to contact you?” Remington is up and pacing again, but my next words stop him in his tracks.
“He’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, he was involved in a drunk driving accident his junior year of college. It was his fault. I know because my dad is still friends with his dad. I was in high school, and we all went to the funeral. Maybe I am a horrible person, but all I felt when I heard the news that he was dead was relief.” I look back to the waterfall where it splashes the lake and mists over the surface of the water, hoping Remington can forgive me for my evil thoughts.
“I’m glad he’s dead too, but I wish I could have killed him myself.” His admission makes me suck in a shocked breath.
“What?” I look at him, gaping.
“It makes me absolutely furious to know that nobody was there to protect you, baby. That you suffered in silence because there was notone personin your life that you felt safe with. I wish I could go back in time, but I can’t.” He pulls me into his arms. “All I can do is promise to keep you safe from this day forward.”
“Thank you.” I hold on to him and weep, letting out years of pain that had been so tightly locked away.
After some time, I look at him and say something, trying to be brave by sharing another fear. “I don’t want you to treat me differently. I’m not made of glass. It took a lot of therapy for me to feel ready and capable of any kind of relationship. I just always allowed for really terrible ones up until I found you. And I also had to do a lot of work to allow myself to be, to be touched. But being with you ... It has unlocked something totally different for me. I don’t want me telling you all of this to change that or take it away.”
Remington spins me so that I am straddling his lap, placing his hands firmly on my waist. “The only thing I feel after what you told me is pure fucking awe for the woman you are, gratitude that I get to be the man you allow to hold you, touch you. And I promise to worship your body every day the way it deserves, the way you deserve, Lainey.”
