Page 59 of If Only You Hurt

“I’m really sorry you went through?—”

“Don’t treat me like a victim, Laney. You’re sounding like everyone else. No one understands what it’s like going through something like that and trying to piece together the life we are left behind with. That day caused me to completely change everything about myself. I walked on this earth, completely shattered, until I met you.”

“Tad, we’ve lived through something horrific, you’re right. And I think it’s incredible you’re standing here with me. We both are able to give life another chance.” I speak as calmly as I can, hoping not to anger him further.

“You sound like a fucking shrink!” I probably do because it’s something I was told very early on when I first survived the shooting. But saying it in this instance, I feel it to my core now that I have perspective from that event. Had I given up years ago on myself, I wouldn’t be able to have what’s about to happen next: a life with Grant and our child.

“The last thing I want you to think is that I’m psychoanalyzing you. I’m being honest. It took me many years, but each moment I got to live, I now see what a gift it is. It’s not a burden.”

“Speak for yourself. It has been a burden for me. But then I entered this yoga studio and took your class. You greeted me and gave me that big smile. I was told to try a class to see if it would help. And sure enough, of all people to teach the class, she is none other than a survivor herself.

“Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. It was simply an attraction that first moment we met. I went home and googled your name, learning more about your yoga journey. It took some time, but I found your name buried in web postings of the shooting in Wyoming, and my heart nearly burst, it was beating so hard. Don’t you get it? We are meant to be.”

I remember my therapist telling me that becoming obsessive could be a coping mechanism after surviving a trauma like I had. I started to show signs of it when I first started practicing yoga. I would practice multiple times a day, diving into it to the point that I ate, drank, and slept yoga. It wasn’t until she saw my behavior sway toward becoming obsessive that she asked me to start weaving in different activities to keep my mind occupied. That’s when I picked up romance books, and from there, I’ve branched out to walking, going outside to spend time with my family, and doing other activities to keep my mind occupied in a more healthy manner.

“Tad, I’m so sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. You’re so incredibly sweet, but?—”

Tad slams his hand against the wall, startling me. I can’t help the tear that escapes, and I feel my hands begin to tremble. This isn’t the same person I’ve gotten to know in my classes throughout the last year.

“Stop, Laney. You’re not understanding me. We are together. Not you and Grant. That’s not how this is supposed to go. I saw everything so clearly the moment I realized we shared so much in common. You are supposed to be with me. You are mine. You’re not his. He will never love you the way I can love you. There’s not a part of me that wouldn’t sacrifice myself to ensure your happiness. That’s what our love would be. It would be divine. You’d forget all about Grant the moment I showed you how I could love you properly.”

I hear how much he believes his words, completely ignoring the fact that this idea is ludicrous. I bow my head in defeat because no matter what I say, he will not let me out until I start to play into this little game he has conjured up in his head.

We stand there, me trying to absorb the situation I’m in while he’s seeing me as his only salvation.

I feel the lump only growing bigger in my throat because what I’m about to say is so far from the truth, but it might be my only salvation out of this situation. I need to get myself to safety, and I need out of this studio to achieve it.

“You’re right, Tad. Grant can’t give me the life you can give me. I was hiding my feelings from you because I felt trapped with Grant, like I owed him.”

At first I think he’s not buying my words. But then he begins to nod, liking how I’m bringing him up while taking Grant down with my confession.

I continue, “If I ever saw my future with anyone, it’s with someone like you. We can get out of here, you can raise this baby as your own, and we can begin anew.”

I speak softly, hoping somewhere deep inside, he will understand that my safety is key right now to ensure the wellbeing of my child first and foremost.

“Exactly, Laney. That’s what I’ve been trying to say. I’m so glad you see it clearly now. Grant is no good. I hate that he got you pregnant, but I can raise that baby as my own. We can do this together. Nothing in life needs to be as difficult for our child as it was for us. We can make sure of it.”

I’m nodding, unable to formulate words as it feels like bile is making its way up my throat. I feel disgusted at myself for what I just said. But I need to keep focused on getting out of here, hoping that once we get outside, someone will be walking by, and I can catch their attention and get away from Tad and his crazy idea of a future together.

I begin to walk toward him, slowly to ensure he won’t see through my lies, moving my hand out for him to grab. The moment he grasps my palm, I want to vomit. I feel disgusted by this man because he’s claiming he loves me by instilling fear in me.

I understand he’s in a fragile state, something I can relate to more than I’d like, but at the same time, it’s hard to see past the hurt he’s causing me. The potential damage he could be posing to me and my baby.

He pushes the door open, and we begin to walk, me trailing ahead of him while he’s got my hand in his. I’m a few steps away from the front entrance of the studio when I feel him tug on my arm, pulling my body back. I turn my attention back on him, even though all I want to do is get outside on the busy street.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re playing me, aren’t you? You really think I’m that dense?”

Right when this realization dawns on me that my plan may go to shit, I hear a firm banging on the window of the glass door. I swing my gaze back toward the front of the studio and see Becca and Shane at the door. The panic when they see me standing inside with Tad and the doors locked seems to increase their need to get inside.

“Laney, open the door!” Shane yells, his gaze jumping from my eyes to Tad’s.

I look back at Tad, trying to have the same even tone I had in the yoga room but failing as fear begins to creep up with each second that passes.

“They’re going to break the door down. I need to let them in.” I look up at him right then and see the defeat in his gaze, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.

“No, Laney. I’m sorry. But I finally have the ability to have peace and love in my life. I’m not giving that up.” He grabs my upper arm and begins dragging me toward the back door. I can hear Becca screaming while I’m trying to resist him.

He turns his body toward me, trying to get a better grasp on me, and that’s when I find the opportunity to knee him in the balls.

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