Page 78 of Here In Your Arms

He nods as a response and we’re quiet again. It feels stilted, and I’m not sure why. I felt fine when we got here, so maybe there’s something on her mind.

I wish she would just tell us what she’s thinking.

I’m not about to force her to talk, but it’s killing me to wait for her to start the conversation. After another moment of quiet, she heaves a large sigh. She looks up at us in turn, her face apprehensive.

“I need to tell you guys something, but I’m nervous about it.”

“Okay, we promise to listen,” I tell her, giving Wes a loaded look to keep his mouth shut.

“So, you guys are aware of my ex. I told you about him.”

“Yup, we can see him right over there,” Wes quips.

“Dude!” I admonish him.

“It’s fine. He is right there,” Rory concedes.

She shifts uncomfortably, but clears her throat and continues. “I might not have been one hundred percent honest about how bad our relationship was. I didn’t want you to worry, but after showing up at the girls’ night Morgan brought me to, it seemed like I should tell you guys all of it. I don’t want you to hear it from someone else.”

“Who else would tell us about it?” I ask gently.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure anyone other than Claire realized how bad he is. She might tell you some, but I don’t know who else knows. Seems better not to risk it.”

“We’re here if you want to tell us now, but if you’d rather wait, then that’s okay too,” Wes says, gently taking one of her hands in his.

“You guys have to promise not to cause a scene. I don’t want to risk my job.”

“We promise,” I tell her.

“During our relationship, he was abusive. I’m sure he would still be today, but I suppose that’s a moot point. It was emotional abuse, but I think he was starting to get closer to physical before I left.”

She stops to take a breath, her eyes downcast, and I can’t help but reach other the table to take her other free hand. Looking up, she smiles at both of us, and I squeeze her hand in reassurance. It feels a little silly to be leaning this much, so I scoot my chair a bit closer to her to hold her hand more easily.

Rory’s voice hitches as she continues. “He beat down my spirit. Kept me feeling small. At first, I was just so damn happy to be seen. I thought I was special. It started with small comments, small changes to how he regarded me. He gave me the nickname ‘E’, saying ‘Aurora’ wasn’t special enough, so he changed it to ‘Eos’ then shortened it further to ‘E’. He made it sound special, but looking back, he made my name as small as he wanted me to be.”

My soul aches for this woman who has brought so much joy into my life. She’s connected me and Wes in a way that we haven’t done before. She loves snuggles and just wants to be with her people. How could anyone try to make her small? She can’t be; she’s too amazing. Part of me wants to be angry, but what good would that do? It’s not going to make her magically better and if I’m learning anything, it’s that my anger may make things worse. Rory doesn’t want someone else’s anger; she has her own simmering deep down. She just wants us to be here with her.

“He would belittle me in public, grab me by the wrist, and lead me around. Sometimes he left bruises. Anything that could possibly be marked as my fault was. If the weather turned nasty, it was because I wasn’t ready soon enough. If his car broke down, it was because I distracted him too much from doing his regular maintenance. I stopped trying to make things better after a while.

“I think it came to a head shortly after he scared Claire. It was a couple months after that, I think. He scared her at my apartment and things escalated after that. He pushed me to stop working, to get rid of my apartment, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. One night, he got so angry that he twisted my arm back behind me so I couldn’t move while he screamed at me. He threw me to the ground after and my hip and arm were bruised for a while. That’s when I left.”

Rory’s description of how she was treated sounds clinical coming from her. At first she was showing some emotion, but now by the end she’s almost detached. I decide not to worry too much about it. We’re at her job and I’m sure it’s hard to talk about. I squeeze her hand gently and lean over to kiss her on the cheek. She turns and gives me a small smile.

“Why don’t you come over tonight, sweetheart? I know it’s a late night for you, but we’d like to be able to hold you,” I tell her.

“Definitely. I don’t care how late into the night it is. I want to hold you in my arms and remind you that you’re safe and loved,” Wes agrees.

She smiles and blinks back her tears, and I can almost feel the gratitude pouring off her. “That sounds wonderful. I should be there around one then.”

“We’ll keep the bed warm for you,” I promise.

“Hopefully not too warm if I’m not there for it.”

“Just imagine all the naughty things we’ll get up to while we wait for you.”

“You’re incorrigible!”

I smirk in reply, giving her nothing else.

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