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“Messy family.”
“Poor baby.” She sighed. “Anyway, security couldn’t come, which left me and Doreen—who’s in her mid-fifties—to intervene. I did my best to cool things down, but the guy …” She gulped. “The guy wasn’t having a bar of it, wasn’t listening to reason.”
He saw a tear trickle down her cheek, and he pressed the pad of his thumb to wipe it away. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to,” she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. “I couldn’t leave the poor people out there. It didn’t seem right, no matter what our protocols are. There were people trying to leave, others calling the police, while Doreen kept calling security. So I left the secured area, like the man was screaming at me to do. I thought … I thought maybe I could calm him down. But before I knew it, he’d grabbed me, and had a knife at my throat.”
“Oh, Lexi,” he breathed, his pulse hammering loudly in his ears.
“I froze. I knew self-defense, and I’ve done plenty of training courses. I should’ve known better, but I just stood there, scared. So, so scared.”
He tucked her closer, smoothing her hair, praying for peace.
“The security guards finally came, and he threatened to cut me if they came closer.” She drew in a shaky breath and didn’t continue.
“And someone came closer.”
She dipped her head. “There’s something surreal about seeing your own blood slipping through your hands, spilling on the floor.”
“Lexi.”
“It seemed to shock the guy. I don’t think he meant to do it—he was in a drug-induced psychosis—but all I remember was being on the floor, hands on my throat, people screaming, wanting to scream, strangers holding a towel under my chin while I wondered if I’d ever talk again.”
“I’m so sorry.” He physically hurt for her, like every cell inside him felt her pain.
“What’s weird is that I didn’t ever feel like I was going to die. It seemed impossible. I was a nurse, I was a Christian, I knew God had good plans for me. So even in that horrible, horrible moment I didn’t think I’d actually die.”
“What happened to him?”
“The police came. Between them and the security guards, they got him restrained. He’s in jail, waiting for a court appearance. I don’t think they’re in any hurry to release him.”
“Will you have to be there for that?”
“Maybe. One day. When I told the police I was coming here, they said I could do video testimony if necessary. We all hope he’s going to plead guilty. Then it goes away.”
“But not for you.”
She exhaled and rested her ear against his shoulder. “I don’t have the same nightmares as before. But it was tough, those first few weeks. The surgeons said it was a miracle, that if he’d pressed a millimeter harder I would’ve lost my voice, that if I hadn’t grabbed my throat like that I probably would’ve died, because I lost so much blood.” Another shaky breath escaped. “It was hard afterwards, to not think about that, that I could’ve easily died.”
“God saved you.”
“Yes.”
Silence fell, the sound of leaves rustling in the light breeze. The stars continued with their gentle vigil.
“So that’s why you wear scarves and turtlenecks.”
She nodded. “I found that people don’t really see me anymore, they just see this.” She pointed to her throat. “They see the scar and think they know me.”
“I see you,” he said softly.
“What do you see?” Her words were barely breath.
“I see someone courageous and kind, cheeky and yet full of compassion. I see someone beautiful, inside and out.”
“It’s dark, huh?”
He smiled. “I see someone I’d really like to kiss again now.”
