Page 36 of Journey to Love

“We went our separate ways shortly after that,” I continue, taking a breath to steady my shaky voice.

“How come?” Jacob asks, his genuine curiosity evident in his tone. His interest in my story brings a small smile to my face, a glimmer of warmth amid the vulnerability of the moment.

"Honestly, I don’t know, our group kind of separated, and we all lost touch with each other," I answer, and Jacob nods in understanding.

"But the separation between me and Paul didn’t last long when we ran into each other on my 17th birthday, right before I was about to start my senior year of high school," I continue, a hint of nostalgia creeping into my voice. "I was at the mall with a huge group of my friends who decided to do a small shopping spree for me as a birthday gift. That’s when Paul ran into us as he came out of a store. He was so excited to see me that he picked me up and spun me around."

"Sounds like a happy time," Jacob adds, his voice filled with empathy as he listens to my story.

I let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, it was at that moment, and shortly after, we decided to date. My mom somehow convinced my dad to allow it despite Paul being 19 and me 17.” Jacob chuckles a little and then nods for me to continue.

“Things were great, Paul was so sweet and caring, we talked on the phone a lot.” I pause and take a breath, preparing myself to keep going. “A year into our relationship, he told me he was in the Marines. I was happy for him; both my dad and grandpa are veterans, so it wasn’t anything that would shock me.” I say with a shrug, noticing Jacob's attentive expression as he listens carefully.

“But then my dad started getting suspicious about Paul, asking if I was sure he was in the Marines. I didn’t see why Paul or anyone for that matter would lie about being in the military.” Jacob raises his brows as if to ask how I didn’t know about the term “stolen valor”. I hold out my hand as a gesture that I know what he’s thinking, “no, I was a naïve 17-year-old who didn’t know anything about people pretending to be military,” I say with a chuckle. Jacob lets out a small laugh along with me, then says, “well, it can be easy to miss if you’re not looking for it.”

I smile at his understanding, then continue, “Anyway, I started asking Paul the same questions my dad was asking me. At first, Paul would brush them off and say things like he’ll tell me later or that he has it locked away somewhere, whenever I asked for physical proof.” Jacob wipes a tear from my cheek, I didn’t realize I began to cry. I breathe again and keep going.

"But as I asked more questions, things changed. Paul started yelling and screaming at me. We argued about where he was going at night. I began working while attending college, eventually switching to online classes because Paul got angry whenever anyone else talked to me." Jacob's gentle touch on the back of my hand offers comfort as I continue. "We never visited his house, and after my parents became suspicious, we stopped going to mine. So..." My body trembles, and Jacob moves closer, wrapping his arm around me. "It's okay, Anya. Take your time," he reassures me.

"So he would take me to motels after I got off work. I'd pick him up in my car from the mall, and then he would demand to drive," I explain. Jacob's curiosity prompts him to ask, "He took you to motels, not hotels?" I affirm with a nod, "Yeah, we didn't have a lot of money to afford hotels every day." Jacob's next question surprises me, "Well, at least he paid for them, right?" I let out a bitter laugh, "That's what I thought too, until I noticed all my tip money would be gone after dropping him off home each night." Jacob's expression shifts to shock, but instead of judgment, he offers comfort by rubbing my back, silently encouraging me to continue sharing my story.

"I'd let it go each time because I didn't have any bills to pay for at the time, but then when my parents started to take away my phone and car because I refused to stop seeing Paul, I found myself needing my money more and more," I continued, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Did he not have a job?" Jacob asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

"I thought he did, but every paycheck and tip I received, he would end up taking. After a while, I did confront him and told him to stop taking my money," I explain. Then, I recount the next part with a shaky breath, "That's when things went from bad to worse. He... he... he would..." I struggle to compose myself as tears stream down my face. "He would yell, and then... then I would yell back," I say, my voice cracking with emotion. "When I yelled back for the first time, he backhanded me and told me to never talk to him that way again," I confess, burying my face in my hands and crying harder.

Jacob pulls me closer, holding me gently as he whispers soothing words. "Shh, it's okay, baby. I'm here," he assures me, rubbing my back and stroking my head until I finally calm down. "I'm sorry, this part is always the hardest to get through," I apologize, wiping my tears away.

"Anya, you never need to apologize for sharing how you feel," Jacob says tenderly, cupping my face in his hands before kissing my forehead.

His kind words and understanding give me the courage to continue. "I stayed with him for a year after that, thinking I could help him. I was in college for psychology, so I figured I'd practice with him and help him get better. But it never did. He would berate me and tell me that no one else would love a slut like me," I recount, my voice trembling with the weight of the memories. "When he would hit me, it would only be in places no one ever saw because he made that mistake once and people kept asking questions. I wasn't allowed to be around him until my bruises and cuts healed after that," I explain, the pain of those memories still fresh in my mind.

"Then when it came to sex, I stopped wanting it from him because that was all we ever did when we would go to the motels. Anytime I told him no, he would get angry and hit me, then hold me down on the bed and force himself on me," I recount, the words heavy with the weight of my past trauma.

"I kept letting it go on until one day I had had enough. He took me to a motel that was run down and dirty. Apparently, I was a dirty whore, so I only deserved dirty motel rooms. His words, not mine," I clarify bitterly.

"It went as it always did, but this time he didn’t care where he hit me. By the end of it, I had a black eye, my wrist was bruised from him holding me down, a bruise on my back from his elbows digging into me, and a deep bruise around my neck from when he choked me till I blacked out," I manage to say before breaking down in tears once more.

Jacob pulled me onto his lap and held me until I couldn’t cry anymore. Then he cupped my face, his touch gentle and comforting. “Anya, I am so sorry that you had to go through that, and at such a young age. Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said, his voice filled with genuine empathy. He pulled me into his chest, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, finding solace in his embrace.

“I’m sorry I freaked out on you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Just when I heard military, all those horrible memories came flooding back, and I got scared that I would be going through that again.”

I felt Jacob tense up, and I pulled away from his chest to look at him, searching for his reaction. I noticed pain in his eyes, and my heart ached at the thought of causing him any distress. “Anya, I would never hurt you the way that he did. I understand why you reacted the way that you did, and—”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were him, I—”

Jacob gently interrupted me, his touch soothing as he stroked my cheek. “I know. Let me finish, okay?” he said softly. I nodded, allowing him to continue.

“Like I said, I understand your reasons, and if you need me to provide you with any proof that I am not lying about who I am or me going into the military, I will do it for you in a heartbeat, no questions asked,” he reassured me, his words filled with sincerity and understanding.

As I lean back into his sturdy chest, my smile spreads across my face, a physical reflection of the warmth and contentment that fills me. I close my eyes, sinking deeper into his embrace, listening to the steady thump of his heart. The same heart that I had almost broken with my panicked words earlier. But now, as he wraps his arms around me, I feel safe and secure again. "Jacob?" I whisper, seeking reassurance.

"Yeah baby," he responds, his deep voice laced with affection.

"I'd like to be your girlfriend still if you still want me to be."

He tightens his arms around me in a gentle squeeze, his love for me evident in every touch. "More than anything," he replies, causing a surge of joy to fill my chest. I lean up and press my lips to his, the kiss quickly deepening as our longing for each other ignites.

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