Page 13 of Prairie Nights

“Wow, you’re just going for it, aren’t you?” she asked, looking away and letting out a nervous giggle.

Hayden shrugged, offering her a smile as he leaned back against the backrest and gestured for her to go ahead.

Whitney leaned forward and folded her hands in front of her, letting out a long, nervous exhale. How do I go from holding everything in to spilling my guts to a man I’m romantically interested in? She had held it in so long that she was struggling to formulate the words to start the conversation.

As if reading her mind, Hayden leaned forward and put his hands on hers, the warmth of his touch calming her and letting her know it was okay. “Whitney, you can tell me anything,” he assured her. “I won’t pass judgement; you can trust me.”

Whitney sighed and swallowed hard, feeling a lump of emotion forming. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath as she spoke. “I guess I’ll start from the beginning.” She said in a shaky voice. “I was married for seven years, five together and two legally separated. I got married when I was 23. I met Paul when I was working at a neighbourhood coffee shop and in my last year at university. He would always come in and was sweet and charming. He asked me out every day for months, so I finally said yes, and we started dating. Paul was five years older than me and more experienced in life, but I was completely head over heels for him back then and before I knew it, we were engaged and planning a wedding.” She explained. “I moved in with him before we got married and that is when I remember the abuse starting.”

“Abuse?” Hayden questioned, contorting his face in disgust. “Did he hit you?”

“No, but sometimes I wish he did.” She confessed. “At least if I had cuts or bruises, then I would’ve had physical proof of his abuse. He was emotionally and mentally abusive towards me.” She shared meeting Hayden’s eyes. “It started with small comments or criticisms. First, making rude or crude comments about my looks, what I wore, and so on. Then he started isolating me from my friends and limiting my contact with my family. It wasn’t until I left him and started going to therapy that I understood that those seemingly small things were part of the abuse.” Hayden shook his head and encouraged her to continue with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “About two years into our marriage, living with him had become a roller coaster. I asked his sister about his moods, and she shared with me that Paul had been diagnosed with manic depression years prior and that was likely why he had such extreme mood swings. When I found out, I confronted him about it, asking him why he never told me. I asked him simply because I wanted to help him. Perhaps there was medication, or some type of therapy he could go through that would help. I didn’t know.” she shrugged. “I even asked my mother about treatment for him as my mother was a Psychology Professor.”

“Makes sense.” Hayden said. “You loved him and wanted to help him.”

“Exactly, or at least, I thought so, but the more I talked about it the worse the abuse got. He would take out his frustration and anger on me by calling me horrible names, attacking my looks, my weight, my character. Nothing was off limits. He couldn’t keep a job and started flipping from one career to the next, blaming the reason for his inability to keep a job on me.” Hayden shook his head, his mouth setting into a grim line. “Honestly, I don’t know how I survived those years; my self esteem was in the toilet.” she confessed. “In the last year of our marriage, he started accusing me of cheating on him. If I would say hello to someone while we were out, or stop to talk to a neighbour, he would accuse me of sleeping with them. He was relentless with it, calling me a slut or a whore.” Hayden met her gaze with empathy as she continued. “That part was so hard for my young mind at that time. He was my first for everything. He was the only man I had ever slept with and had pledged my love and life to him in marriage. And even with all of that, he didn’t believe me.” Hayden let out a long breath. “Finally, after five years of dealing with his abuse, he came home one day and told me he was done with me. He said I had one day to get my things out and go.”

“What did you do?” Hayden questioned, his eyebrows knitting together as he frowned.

“Well, I called my parents, of course, which was terrifying for me. They had always been unconditionally supportive and did whatever they could to make Paul feel like part of our family. Despite that, I knew they felt Paul was not right for me and could see that things weren’t good in my marriage. When I called them, they came, no questions asked.” Whitney smiled in reflection. “In some ways, looking back, I think they were relieved that I was leaving him. That I had found my way out of the relationship.”

Hayden shook his head again, letting out a long-pained exhale, Whitney sitting back and doing the same as their eyes met.

“I literally have never told anyone that much about those years.” she confessed a sense of calm washing over her at sharing her entire story. “Even Ever doesn’t know everything.”

Hayden intertwined his fingers with hers and glanced down at their joined hands. Leaning over the table, he brought her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. “I want you to know I don’t take your trust in me for granted,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

Whitney gave him an appreciative look, then continued. “I’ve never hidden my past from others, just simply given them the short version when they asked. After Paul and I split, so much stuff came to light. He’d been seeing someone for months behind my back before he asked me to leave, and after that girl broke it off with him, he tried everything to get back together with me,” she continued. “It got to the point of stalking me, so I had to get a restraining order against him.”

“And he’s been contacting you again?” Hayden asked to clarify. “Doesn’t that go against the restraining order?”

“Unfortunately, the restraining order has now lapsed and yes, he has attempted contact.” She confirmed. “I really don’t know how he got my info. I assume somehow through the agency, as my info is public on the website. But I don’t think he knows where I live or anything like that, even though he claimed in his messages that he knows where I am.”

Hayden ran his hand through his hair and let out a long breath. “Do you think he’s going to try to hurt you in any way?” He asked, a look of worry on his face.

“Physically, I don’t think so, but mentally I’m sure of it. His messages so far have been full of insults and his usual name calling.”

“So that’s the reason you left Toronto so quickly?” Hayden asked, putting two and two together. She nodded and took a drink of her water. Hayden met her gaze, a gentle reassurance on his face. “He’s not going to hurt you, Whitney. Not on my watch.”

Whitney stared at Hayden. This amazing man sitting across from her promising her his protection. Her heart felt full and a deep sense of peace came over her, making her feel truly safe for the first time in a week.

* * *

After dinner, they made their way to the arena and found their seats near the home team bench and settled in.

“Wow, Hayden, these are great seats!” Whitney exclaimed excitedly, her eyes darting around, wanting to take everything in.

“Are you okay here for a bit?” he asked with a mischievous wink. “I promise I’ll try to be quick.”

Whitney nodded and watched him go bounding up the steps two at a time. She relaxed into her seat and took in the view in front of her. The arena was huge, a giant jumbotron over the middle of the ice, flashing stats and info on the players. Music played loudly amongst the chatter of the growing crowd to pump everyone up. The seats in their section were filling up fast and before long, 15 minutes had passed, and Whitney was beginning to worry about where Hayden was. Hayden hadn’t been gone long, but she wanted him near her, his simple presence making her feel secure and cared for.

A whistle sounded, and she followed the sound to see three guys sitting in the seats behind her, not there when she and Hayden had arrived. The man in the middle leaned down to her, his breath warm on her hair.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Are you here alone?” he asked, his hand touching her shoulder and lingering unnecessarily.

She flinched from his unwanted touch and turned to give him her fiercest glare.

He put his hands up and laughed. “Don’t be so jumpy, sweetheart. Just curious.”

---