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“Is that why you have hardwood floors throughout the house? Because of your mother?”
A small smile tugged his mouth. “The sound makes me think of good memories, before everything went to hell. It’s amazing how one moment can change your entire world and course of fate.”
“I understand what you mean.” For Jack it was his mother’s death. For me, it was the night Brock snuck into my room.
“Will you tell me about the squeaking door?”
He glared at the water, watching it run down my back, and continued to sponge my skin.
“All the doors in my father’s house squeaked to high hell. When he stumbled through them, drunk usually, I knew what was coming.”
“He hurt you.” I didn’t ask, rather stated.
“Usually, I was just in the way. But a few times, it got bad. I was eleven the first time I tried to defend myself, and he choked me until I passed out.”
“Oh, my God.” I grabbed his free hand.
“That was when I really understood that my own life was in someone else’s hands, and I hated it. He thought he’d killed me. When I came to, he hugged me. Cried. Swore he’d never hurt me again. It was the one time I believed he gave a shit,” Jack scoffed. “But his promise didn’t last long.”
Tears danced along my eyes, and I unwove his fingers from mine, skimming them along my lower lashes. “Don’t cry for me. I don’t want it and I don’t need it. I’m telling you this because you asked, and because I trust you.”
That made me want to cry for a different reason. Jack was so strong and intense. It made sense how growing up in that situation causes confusion and guilt and anguish. He couldn’t control what happened to him any more than I could. Yet, somehow, we’d found solace in each other.
“I’m sorry for what you went through,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry for what you went through too, baby.”
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“It’s getting better,” I said with a soft smile. “You make it better.”
“I’m glad. I just…worry.”
I was hearing that word a lot lately. Coming from him, it made my chest hurt.
“What do you worry about?”
“You,” he said. “If I’m what’s best for you.”
“You are.”
He grinned and ran his thumb along my lower lip. “I’m glad you think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Not always.”
I sat up further, leaning over the side of the tub to face him. “Why? I know there’s a lot to work through. I know there are details and pasts that we both have that we haven’t shared. But I want to get there. I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of worrying, and I’m tired of you worrying. I just want to be happy. With you.”
The truth rushed my brain. I couldn’t really let go and be happy while being so close to Brock. I wouldn’t run, but he needed to go. Because Jack was what I wanted. A future where I had pride and wasn’t scared of who was haunting me was what I wanted.
“There’s so much between us. Said and unsaid. But can you just believe me when I tell you that I…”
He frowned. “You what?”
With a heavy breath, I said the one truth I could, “I love you.”
His face flashed with shock. I’d never seen Jack so caught off guard. But then sadness washed over him.
