A split second of violence made by my body, despite my unwilling mind, forever changed the course of my life.
She gasped and brought her hand to her mouth.
“I-I couldn’t handle the guilt. I’d not gotten used to my body yet, before high school it started growing and never seemed to stop. I felt like Mr. Hyde but never got back to Dr. Jekyll. Not a single part of me felt comfortable. And then the one area where I felt like I at least served a purpose was the place where I ended up almost killing someone. It made me sick. It ate me alive. I didn’t even like football. I was just good at it.”
“I’m so sorry, Owen.” Her hands reached for me but then dropped back into her lap when she saw I wasn’t done with my pacing.
And now that I started sharing, I couldn’t stop. I tossed my arms out as I walked a few feet in front of the bed.
“And the worst part was that nobody even seemed to be mad at me or tell me to back off on the field. If anything, people just confirmed that I was in the right position and pushed me harder. My dad made a joke about it and said it was all part of the sport. Nobody cared that I could have killed somebody.”
I hadn’t ever talked about this, and saying it out loud made it seem so much smaller. In my head, it was a dark shadow that loomed over every choice I made or decision that came without thinking. But once I spoke, it diminished in size—the opposite of saying the name of a boogeyman. Freedom shrunk its form.
“That’s so awful,” Bee said. “You were both just children. They should have protected you both.”
I swallowed down the gulp of pain at those words. We were children. I could see that now, now that the shadow was out of my head. I was a child, and so was the boy that I’d hurt. But looking back, I’d never felt that way. People saw me as an adult because of my size. I had always been a weapon to be wielded.
I still was.
“I was all set to ride that sports scholarship to college, but I couldn’t play after that. I couldn’t even put my pads on without throwing up.” I glanced at her, desperate to see what she thought of that, but all I found was a patient nod of understanding. “Back then, nobody understood. Except Ivy. She was there. She let me come to her class during lunch. I didn’t hang out with the team after I stopped playing. I was exiled. Those first few days, when I wasn’t sure if the kid was going to live or die, I had nobody except her. She would let me come to her classroom and let me cry silently in the corner—” I gasped a shaking breath in and out, thinking of that tormented version of myself. “She never shamed me or even tried to force me to talk. She’d just pat my shoulder or give me a book to read and let me be sad. It became a routine after that. To hide in her room and she let me mourn. I will never forget what that meant to me.”
I clenched my jaw so hard, and my nostrils flared. My vision blurred, but I wouldn’t cry anymore. I just needed to get it out.
“I will do whatever it takes to protect Ivy. When I dropped out of football, I lost my chance at any sort of real education. But I just couldn’t play that sport anymore. I couldn’t sleep without hearing the snap, that crunch. I hate feeling like I can’t control this body?—”
She got up and came to me then, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around my middle from behind and put her head on my back. I was thankful for her comfort but found I couldn’t meet her gaze yet. She’d probably expected some big, strong man who never cried over something over ten years ago.
“After that … violence was all I represented but never wanted. It’s like I have this mark on me that everybody else can see that just says, ‘Beware, capable of pain.’ That’s why I needed to tell you. What I’m capable of. The man I am.”
She let out a breath, and I felt it through the fabric of my shirt.
“I know the sort of man you are.” She squeezed my sides. “Turn around.” I did, and she stood on her toes to cup my face. I could melt into her soothing caress. “You are strong when you need to be, but not violent. You apologized before when I made doing your job extremely difficult. A man who, even when picking me up mostly against my will, managed to do so gently.” She took a breath, her gaze flicking back and forth between mine with ferocity. “And you even got me extra clothes and those cute chile socks so I wouldn’t be cold. You sacrificed your own comfort to warm me up. You continue to be a wall of patient strength even as I berate and attack and annoy you without so much as lifting a finger in retaliation.”
“I sort of like it,” I admitted with a shrug.
Something dark flashed behind her already dark eyes. “And if you wanted to scare me or hurt me, you could have done so a hundred times over, but not once have I ever thought of you as violent. You are beautiful and gentle.”
Embarrassment and flattery burned the tips of my ears.
“I know you’ve been told of all the horrible things you’re capable of,” she said and ran her fingertips from my hand and up my arm. “And I know other people’s perception of us can shape us more than we want or know or wish, so, if that’s the case, if you need a set of eyes to see yourself through, then you can borrow mine for a while. Because I think you are wonderful. Let yourself see you the wayIsee you.” And the look she gave me caused everything I ever thought I knew to fall to the ground, and in the ruined ashes of my mind, there was only Bee and her outstretched arms.
I let out a sigh so long it felt like the first time I’d really breathed in a decade. “Bee.” I bent and pulled her into my arms.
“So few have shown you love and gentleness throughout your life, yet you seem to display it so fully for others like me and Ivy while not thinking yourself capable,” she said. “Imagine the sort of love you’d bring people if you believed you could. Imagine the pleasure to be shared if you were simply instructed how.” Her blacked-out gaze met mine, and desire flared in me.
A deep, unidentifiable, guttural sound of need came out of me.
“Prove everybody else wrong,” she said, stepping closer; her sweet smell filled my senses and shot awareness through my whole body. “Let me be right.”
“What do you mean?” I asked her.
“Show me how gentle you can be.” She stepped back, and my eyes roamed over every inch of her as my flannel fell from her shoulders.
She stood before me, fearless and breathtaking. Her eyes were dark and patient, her lips freshly licked. She was a temptation like nothing else. Her breasts, her hips, the angle of her neck into her shoulder. Every inch of her was a feast for my eyes, and I couldn’t stop looking.
Show me they’re wrong. Show me how gentle you can be.
I couldn’t make any promises, but I could try. I felt safe to go slow and be what she needed.
