Page 8 of A Constant Love

That was exactly how James and I’s first kiss happened. Back in those days, he wasn’t a monster…or rather, he just hadn’t showed it to me yet.

Back then, he was sweet and thoughtful. Hell, he was nervous to even give me a sweet little peck on the lips. Never did I think he would do anything to hurt me. My naivety thought he and I would continue to live in our own little innocent bliss until we grew up, got married, and left that town in the dust. In those days, he was everything I thought I wanted.

But jealousy turned him into a crazy, unhinged man…a man I no longer recognized.

Before James and I got serious, I was the type of girl who just seemed to get along better with the boys. My favorite activities included four-wheeling, mudding, fishing, and camping. Needless to say, most of those things interested the boys more than the girls.

Plus, I was never one for drama. Gossip always just pissed me off, and all of the guys I hung out with were nice enough never to ask too many questions about my mama, aside from the occasional, “How’s she doing?”

James was one of the guys I hung out with regularly, and one day, he got the courage to just ask me out. Despite never thinking of him in a romantic way, the thought of going on a date with him gave me butterflies, so I agreed.

From that day forward, we were inseparable, but those times of fishing and mudding turned into more normal dates…movies, school dances, dinners.

For a while, he was still laid back about me hanging out with some of our mutual guy friends, but after we introduced sex into our relationship, everything changed.

Suddenly, he didn’t want me so much as talking to those guys, and if I did, he would get mad and accuse me of fucking them. Then he’d give me shit until I’d promise not to do it again.

Instead, he wanted me to start hanging out with more females and even convinced me to join the cheerleading squad. He insisted it was because he wanted me there cheering him on during his football games, but I knew it was so he could keep an eye on me to make sure I wasn’t fucking someone else. Heaven forbid he ever put any trust in me.

The only males I was allowed to hang out with were ones in his inner circle…ones that made it very clear they were his friends, not mine. The same friends who took part in raping me the night James took out his rage on me.

In my teenage years, I had no idea what a narcissist was…or the fact that I was dating one. Before James ever laid a finger on me, I had no clue he was abusing me in so many other ways. He cut me off from my friends and family by wanting my constant attention…making the time during my mom’s last couple years with her very slim.

He would get mad about the slightest things, forcing me to apologize, but when I got even slightly upset about anything, he would pin it back on me, making me believe it was my own fault.

He would make me feel pretty when he wanted something from me but was always quick to remind me that he could find someone prettier.

Every time I would be at my breaking point and ready to walk out the door, he would show up with flowers or some other sweet gesture and tell me how much I meant to him. It wouldn’t take long for me to fall right back into his trap.

When I would be unreachable, he would freak out and call every single person I knew until he found me. But when he would turn his phone off, it was because he needed guy time. Turned out he was taking that time to fuck my female ‘friends’ on the cheerleading squad.

After what he did to me, I took all of our good memories and buried them deep in the recesses of my brain. Clearly, they were beginning to make appearances in my dreams instead.

Over the years, I focused on all the bad in our relationship, so I would never mourn any of it…aside from all the time I wasted. It was easier to look back with disdain and hatred rather than sorrow and pain.

My phone chimed on the closed toilet seat next to the tub, and I sat up to glace at the text message.

Hope you’re being a good girl and keeping that pretty mouth of yours shut.

James.

My teeth clenched together as anger welled up inside me. I was angry that he was doing all of this, but more so, I was angry there was absolutely nothing I could do about any of it.

This time though, instead of reading the message and crying or going into a panic attic, I just sat there…still and quiet…because at that moment, I felt nothing but numbness.

No, instead of crying, I sat in my now lukewarm bath water, mourning the metaphorical death of the sweet boy I shared my first kiss with.

Chapter 7 – Sam

“Well, baby girl, do you like it?” James asked as he looked at me with trepidation.

My eyes focused on the room around us. We were standing in his bedroom, but he had transformed it into something magical.

For starters, he had actually cleaned it. Every time I had been in this room in the past, there were dirty clothes and dishes scattered everywhere. Now, it was pristine.

There were a few candles lit around the room creating a soft glow, and there was some soft music playing. Country music…of course. James was a country boy through and through.

“Jimmy, it’s wonderful!” I said while wrapping my arms around his neck for a kiss. “When your parents go out of town, you really go all out, huh?”

---