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“I do trust you,” I say softly. “Is that weird? It’s not like I know you that well, but I trusted you from the very beginning.”
“I felt that,” Cree replies just as softly. “All the more reason for me to make sure I never betray that trust even if I get a little rough with you.”
“Trust is a hard thing to come by.”
“And impossible to regain once lost,” Cree replies without hesitation.
I glance up at him, wondering if he’s experienced such a loss. He speaks again before I can ask.
“You’ve had trouble trusting in the past, haven’t you?”
“I guess so.” I glance away, my heart feeling as if someone just filled my chest with ice water.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Cree says softly.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Maybe not to other people, but yeah.”
“Can I tell you why?” I ask, immediately wishing I hadn’t said anything.
“Of course.”
“It’s also about why I’m afraid of water.”
He reaches over and takes my hand but doesn’t say anything. I stare at our hands as I take a couple of breaths.
“It’s my father,” I say quietly, and Cree tightens his grip on my hand a little. “It’s not really his fault, but it is. I mean, he couldn’t really…” I huff out a frustrated breath, unable to form the words. “I just can’t trust him anymore. I want to, but I can’t.”
Cree remains silent as he strokes my palm with his thumb, and I try to pull myself together. My chest feels tight, and the burning sensation behind my eyes threatens to let loose the tears.
“No matter how much therapy we’ve all been through, I can’t get over it,” I say quietly. I’m being vague, and I know it. I take another deep breath. “I was a daddy’s girl, and he was supposed to always protect the family. We did a lot of outdoors stuff—hiking, camping and such—and we were canoeing down a river…”
My voice cracks, and I have to stop for a moment. I press my lips together and close my eyes briefly, anticipating Cree’s questions, but he says nothing. After a minute, I open my eyes, determined to get it out as quickly as possible.
“My brother drowned,” I say softly as I stare at the floor in front of me. I continue in short, choppy sentences. “We were in a lot of rapids. The canoe tipped over. It was an accident. He was twelve, and I was eight. We both fell out when a wave hit us. My father grabbed me, but he couldn’t reach my brother in time.”
Finally, Cree speaks.
“Oh shit, Kas.” He lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around me instead, pulling me close to him. “Yeah, I can understand why you would be afraid of water.”
I sob against his shoulder, no longer able to keep it all in. I feel Cree’s arm leave me for a minute, and then I feel the rough touch of a rope around my back. He entwines us both, creating a second embrace around me. He doesn’t tie any knots but holds the end of the rope in his hand, binding us together.
I begin to relax, the fear and panic washing away as I feel our connection through the fiber of the rope enveloping. I imagine the energy flowing from his body to mine to his again like the electrical impulses that pass from one neuron to the next, bringing messages of peace and safety. My tears end, and I can breathe more easily now.
As I calm, I look up at Cree and try to smile at him. He releases the rope, and it drops to the floor around us. With a quick move of his hand, he tosses it off to the side, then brushes tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.
“I don’t like talking about it,” I finally say. “It’s why I was so quiet in high school. I never really got over it.”
“I’m so sorry.” He holds me tightly. “I wish I knew what else I could say.”
“That’s when I lost trust in my father. It’s not fair to him, but I can’t help how I feel. I’ve avoided water ever since then. I wouldn’t go anywhere near rivers, stayed away from rain puddles, and I didn’t even take baths for years, only showers.”
“With everything you just told me, I’m…well, I’m touched you trust me at all. Thank you for that.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” I say. “Really, Cree, I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time.” I blush, afraid I’ve said too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “It’s good to trust someone again.”
“I’m glad it’s me,” Cree says. “I suppose that’s selfish, but it’s true.”
