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Me: Did you see my IG?
Willow: Hell yes! You’re an official rock star, Sis. You look amazing btw. Everything but ink.
Me: Got that, too!
Willow: *wide-eyed surprised emoji* WTF?
Me: Connor had a tattoo artist put a design on me in Richmond after the concert.
Willow: A design, of what? Did it hurt?
Me: IDK. I’ll see it when we stop tonight. He wanted to give me something so everyone knows I’m his. And yeah, hurt like hell.
Willow: Know you’re his what? If ropes and floggers are involved, I need DETAILS ASAP!
Me: LOL. No! I’m his girlfriend.
Willow: *heart-eye emoji* Aww.
Me: IKR
Willow: Happy?
Me: So. Happy.
I smile at the message. I am happy. I like this feeling of knowing someone, and having someone know me. That thought brings a dark cloud to my mind. Miss Insecure shakes out her umbrella. Connor really doesn’t know me, though. He doesn’t know what happened. How pathetic I am. I can only hope when he finds out, he’ll still want me, flaws and all.
My Inner Sex Goddess scolds me, and Miss Adventure wags her finger at me. I know I need to tell him, but I’m so scared. Afraid of what he’ll think. Terrified that all the happiness I’m feeling now will dissolve in the light of the truth of who I really am — a failure.
When we stop for burgers and shakes at a takeout diner a few minutes later, I swallow my pride and share a bit more of myself with him. Connor trusts me with his whole story. I can tell him one thing, right? Just one. That will be enough. He doesn’t have to know it all. Just this. This will be enough. I’ll say it, and it will be done. Rip the Band-Aid off.
“After I left New York, I had a really hard time with things. It took me a long time to get through it. There were lots of pills — anti-depressants and anti-anxiety pills and so many doctors. Each of them had me on something different. I hated the feeling they gave me, so I quit cold turkey. I shouldn’t have done that. I was sick for so long. Every day, too nauseated to eat, too weary to sleep, too sad to even cry anymore.”
Connor puts down his half-eaten burger and reaches across our small table to take my hand. He says nothing. His eyes are soft and pleading with me to tell him more. “I know that feeling,” he says softly. I nod. I know he does.
“I got a job for an advertising agency based out of Chicago, where my parents live. The agency transferred me to Atlanta after a couple of years, and I really loved it. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was moving past everything that — well, everything that had me feeling down for so long. I was working to become an account manager and eventually have my own team. But then, my boss, Morgan Wright, propositioned me in his office one night. Said that if I wanted to move up in the company, I needed to be ‘a good girl’ and prove myself to him. When he started to unbuckle his belt, I ran. I reported it to HR the next morning. The manager just shook her head at me. He’d beat me to it. He’d already been in a few days before and told her his version of offering me an ‘advancement opportunity’. He said I’d cornered him and threatened to report him for sexual harassment if he didn’t give me a promotion. I couldn’t believe it! I quit that day.”
Connor’s grip on my fingers tightens while I tell him the story of Morgan Wright, the shitbag. Connor’s jaw clenches, I know he’s angry.
“I didn’t encourage him …” I supply that critical bit of information, quickly hoping to diffuse his anger.
“Of course, you didn’t, Raven.” Connor pulls his fingers from my hand and rakes them through his hair. It’s long and loose today. “What an asshole. You did the right thing. It wasn’t safe for you to be there around that fucker.”
“Thanks. It’s been a few weeks, and apparently, he’s put the word out that I’m a risky hire. I’ve had interviews, but no offers.”
“No wonder you didn’t take vacations for so long,” he says with total empathy. “Come here to me, baby.” Connor pushes himself into the passenger seat up front and I curl into his lap, our fast-food dinner all but forgotten.
“Fuck, Lainey. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” His tone is not one of pity, but of understanding. “You’re wonderful, though.” He kisses me softly. “Really, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, Raven. I promise, I’m going to help you get past this. We’re going to relax and have fun, right?”
I nod slowly.
“I promise you, you’re going to be all right,” he says before kissing me again.
I give him a smile. How many times did I hear those words from my mother? Or the students and teachers at Juilliard? Or Jemmy? Jemmy used, “I swear,” and “I promise” as much as he did “hello” and “goodbye.” Deep down, I never believed any of them. I always knew they’d all turn around and hurt me again in exactly the same way. Their words were hollow and empty, and I could hear the echo of my pain ringing through them.
Connor’s voice is different. There’s something behind it the other voices never had. Not even my mother’s voice. It’s love. Connor Rose loves me. And he’s not going to break this promise. His words are solid and sure. My heart knows it.
* * *
