I can’t lie to him. It's time I stop trying to hide.
“My mom. She found my college applications. I said some things she didn’t like, and she wanted to give me a… reminder that she could take my life as easily as she gave it.”
I don’t need to put into words what her hands did to me.
He gets out of the truck suddenly, and I think he is coming over to my side, but he doesn’t. He just paces in front of the truck. The headlights illuminate him as he walks back and forth. His hands run through his locks and down his face, over and over as if he could wipe all this from his memory.
After what feels like a lifetime, he comes back.
“How long has she been hurting you, Leo?”
“For as long as I can remember.” I hold his gaze. If I’m giving my truth, I need to see his eyes. They are incredibly expressive. I need to see him through them.
“Your legs?” He nods to my thighs. I know what he is asking. He has seen all my scars at this point, but I couldn’t tell him what they were from. Not then. Not in our most intimate moments.
“Her lighters.”
“Your belly?”
“Her cigarettes.”
“Your back?”
“Her belt.”
Silence fills the cab of the truck like a suffocating gas. I feel my lungs begin to burn as I hold my breath, as if that will make the wait for him to accept me or leave me easier. Why would anyone want to be with someone so unloved and scarred? My own mother couldn’t love me, and even though he has told me countless timesthat he does, does he mean it? Will he mean it after he has seen how truly damaged I am? Not only my body but my mind. I don't trust easily, I scare at the first sign of betrayal and judgement, I have deep insecurities. I am not blind to my own trauma's and how I have learned to cope with them. I know I cannot be easy to love.
He looks back at me now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The sorrow that coats his words hits me in the chest like a bullet.
“Could you not trust me?” Second bullet.
I reach and cup his porcelain face with my caramel hand. My favorite contradiction.
“I’ve never told anyone,” I try to reassure him, but I fail.
“I’m not just anyone, Leo. I’m yours.” His eyes are hurting. Like he is trying to take my pain and erase it.
I don’t know what to say, so I just lean forward and rest our foreheads together. Our moment. It’s the only way I know how to show him how much I love him. How sorry I am that I’m the way I am. How untrusting and scared I am.
“You can’t go back there. Ever.”
“I was going to ask Ski if I could stay at the shop. He has an air mattress there for me for times like this—”
His eyes fill with anger. “He knows?”
“Yes. But only because he found out. He caught me breaking into his shop years ago. I was looking for a safe place, and I had to tell him why I was breaking in. He gave me a key and told me anytime I needed, I could stay there.”
“But he didn’t do shit. He didn’t call the cops on your mom or report her?”
“I begged him not to. By the time I met anyone who cared enough to do that, I was too scared to leave her. I know what she does, I know what my body looks like, but… She is all I have ever had. And as much as I hate her, she is still my mother. Plus, I didn't want them to take me away. I don't want to go into the system. Please. Don't be upset with him. This was my choice and he was just respecting it.”
He is shaking his head, clearly frustrated with my answer. “I don’t understand. You're choice, his choice could lead to you dying. She could kill you, Leo!”
“You can’t understand something you have never had to experience, Ev. Your life is…good. Sheltered. Protected. Worth something…”
His furious green eyes pin me to my seat. “Your life is worth something, Leo.”
