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“Come on.” Holden reached for my hand and lowered his voice. “Let’s go back to the room and talk. Tell me what’s really bothering you. Besides, we have an audience.”
Glancing around, the curtains slammed shut as I glared at the nosy couple staring out their window.
“Come on.” He didn’t let go of my hand as he guided me back to the room. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. “What’s going on?”
“I hate secrecy, and it bothers me that you didn’t admit to them how I am in this with you.”
“I didn’t think it was that big a deal. I’m sorry.” The bed made a nasty squeak when he sat, and a hollow echo when he patted the spot beside him. “Tell me why that made you cry?”
My fingers wiped away the tears, and the bed bounced as I fell into beside him. “I left Toronto because of secrets.”
“Oh?”
The ache was spreading, the pain still raw and fresh. My hand covered my chest, and my breath came in raspy inhales. Everything was hurting, splitting wide open. The scars hadn’t had a chance to fully heal yet.
“My ex, well, he kept secrets. Many of them. I thought I knew him; I thought I knew my friends, but I was just naïve, stupid, or foolish.” A deep breath expanded my chest, but I kept my focus on the floor, staring at the circular patterns. “He cheated on me. The whole time we were together.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.” He was quiet and apologetic, but he didn’t move away like I was diseased.
“The worst part is my friends knew it too. All of them. Every. Single. One. No one bothered to tell me, or send me a text or an email, nothing. They were part of the secret, and I only happened to find out by mistake when he was caught red-handed.”
That mental image burned brightly in my head. Naked. Together. On his couch.
Now that the words had started rolling, and the proverbial dam busted, I continued with my story. “He made me believe I was special, and repeatedly told me how much he loved and worshipped me. He asked me to move in.” Which I’d eagerly accepted so I didn’t need to live in my car. “He worked long hours and was often away, and in my stupidity, didn’t think anything of it. I thought we were in love. My shifts at the café were sporadic, so when I got off work early, I came home, planning to make him a nice supper, and well, you can figure out the rest.”
“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Holden squeezed my hand.
“When I told the person who I thought was my best friend, she admitted she already knew and had little to offer in the way of sympathy. In fact, she said she was surprised I didn’t already know. How’s that for a kick to the gut?” I dared to look at Holden, who had a serious expression shadowing his features. “Once again, I had no place to live, and no friends to confide in. I had nothing.”
“And that’s how you wound up at the airport?”
“No. Not entirely.” But I wasn’t ready to open that door. I’d said enough. More than enough.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“How could you?”
He tenderly held my hand, his thumb tenderly rubbing my knuckles. “Please don’t go. Stay with me. Let me make sure you get to the airport in Victoria.”
He was so sincere, and his words were like butter.
I smashed my hands against my face and buried into it. “Maybe I’m just tired and because of that, I’m over sensitive about you not telling your grandparents.”
“Maybe. Why don’t you lay down? That’s why you got the room, right?”
I looked at the crisp, white pillow. It appeared fluffy and comfortable. “Actually, I got this for you. Are you going to sleep?”
“Are we both sleeping on one bed?”
My options were limited. “Tell you what, you sleep and stretch out, and when we’re back in the car, I can crash for a bit.”
“Nonsense. We’re both grown adults. We’ll sleep back-to-back if that would make you more comfortable. Do you trust me?”
For some reason, deep down I knew he wouldn’t murder me, or worse – take advantage – while I slept. Slowly, I nodded an affirmative, and crawled under the blanket to put a barrier between us as I curled into the pillow, keeping my back to the middle of the bed. He did the same and before he’d stopped shifting around, Mr. Sandman had pulled me under.
* * *
The best dream comforted me like the velvety blankets in the cheap motel room. Holden had snuggled against me, my back toasty warm, his arm draped over my stomach. His deep breathing was rhythmic and steady.
