Page 90 of The ABCs of You & Me

I step back, resting my hands on her upper arms and really look at her. She looks more tired than she had under the lights of the vet’s office. She offers a sleepy smile and then fights a yawn.

“Come on.” I take her hand again and lead her toward my bedroom. I expect her to slam on the brakes, but she follows without any hesitation. We stop at the end of the bed, and I turn and unzip her coat before sliding it off. She’s got a thin long-sleeved henley on, and I have to look away immediately when I realize she isn’t wearing a bra.

Tossing her coat on my dresser I gesture for her to lay down. Again she does so without hesitation. After removing my own coat, I join her.

“I should shower,” I say. “I probably reek.”

She shakes her head. “You smell surprisingly good.”

“Liar,” I tease.

“I’d never lie to you.”

I take a chance that if I ask her something right now she’ll be upfront. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“It’s dumb.” She shakes her head and rolls onto her back.

“Talking about dumb stuff is as important as talking about the serious stuff.”

I watch as she swallows, eyes glued to the ceiling, and I think she’s about to shut down. “Gregory’s girlfriend is pregnant,” she blurts out. “Due in October. It’s a boy.”

Her question from earlier makes sense now. “That’s not a dumb reason, Soph.”

She blinks rapidly, and I see a tear slip down into my pillow. I want to wrap myself around her but I stay put, giving her space to collect herself.

“Three years ago, I got pregnant.” The words tumble out of her. “It wasn’t planned, but I was so excited. I’ve always dreamt of being a mom. But Gregory insisted I terminate the pregnancy because he didn’t want kids. He acted like I’d gotten pregnant on purpose and twisted it so much that at the end I almost believed he was right. That I had somehow tried to trap him with a baby.”

Like with your own kids?

Do you want kids?

Crap.

THIRTY-EIGHT

SOPHIE

Once I start, I can’t seem to stop talking. I tell Foster about every shitty thing I can remember Gregory saying to me or doing during the five years we were together. Things I’ve never told anyone else and never planned to talk about. All the ways he didn’t know me, always obvious in the gifts he gave or the way he touched me. Gifts and touches I accepted with a big smile on my face or a perfectly timed moan. Bits of my story that leave me wracked with shame for staying and anger for allowing him to control so much of my life.

I’m a solitary figure standing in a field of waving red flags in every single chapter Gregory was in. If I knew my friend was in that kind of situation, I would have forcibly removed them. Instead, I dug in because there was no way the logical part of my brain could be right about any of it. I was studying this kind of thing; obviously I’d know better.

Foster hasn’t said a thing, and he hasn’t moved a millimeter. When the last word finally leaves my mouth, he looks as if he’s going to set fire to the world. Like he’s going to avenge my lost years and somehow bring them back to me to redo.

I wait in the silence of the room for him to say something, but he just stares at my shoulder. It’s not until I finally roll onto my side that he looks up at me. I expect to see wet eyes, but I only see the anger burning within.

“I never wanted to be this woman,” I admit. “I was that woman on campus with a sign, yelling ‘fuck the patriarchy.’ Then I let the patriarchy fuck me. I think I’ve stayed quiet because I’m embarrassed.”

Foster’s eyes snap to mine, somehow hardening even more and causing me to recoil. When he notices, his face immediately softens.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed of. You’re human, and you’re going to be impacted by the same stuff as the rest of us. Your education doesn’t negate that. Life still happens, and it’s always harder to see and admit things to ourselves.” His left hand cups my cheek, and it warms me to my bones. “Thank you for telling me. I wish you had nothing to share, but I’m honored you felt comfortable enough to share things about your past with me.”

I sigh, feeling suddenly lighter for sharing things that have been weighing my heart and mind down. Pieces of debris left over from an emotional atomic bomb finally swept away.

Reaching up, I mimic him by laying my hand on his cheek, which earns me a tiny smile. “Thank you for being a safe place for me.”

“Always, sunshine. I’ll always be a safe place for you.”

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask.

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