Page 51 of Sunny Skies Ahead
It wasn’t him I was running from. It was the memory of the last time I let a boy get close to me. It was the memory of every time my mother or her friends told me that a boy liked me when I came home crying, talking about how mean he was to me. It was the knowledge that I would always carry this with me. No matter how many therapists I saw, or how much time I spent in nature or with friends, I would never fully outrun the memory of Jacob and his abuse.
The physical scars had long since faded. It was the mental and emotional scars that would never fully close.
I couldn’t tell Kameron all of that—not yet. But I could tell him how it ended.
“Everything came to a head at the Marine Corps ball that year. I had one too many glasses of wine, determined to have fun on the one night of the year I was allowed to. I still don’t know what I did to trigger him that night, but he grabbed me by the elbow and led me to one of the dark corridors leading to the ballroom. He was damn near shouting at me, telling me how much of a slut I was, how I was making him look bad. It’s funny, because he was far drunker than I was, but somehow I was the one making him look bad.”
I let out a mirthless laugh.
“He was louder than he intended, because someone from his squad found us. That man saw Jacob pinning my wrist behind me. I don’t know whether he saw the fear in my eyes or the bruises that already existed on my skin. It didn’t matter, because he stepped in immediately, telling Jacob to back off and get some air. I never knew his name, but I never stopped being grateful. Jacob didn’t come back to our hotel room that night. I felt bad about it at the time, but I’ve long since stopped being ashamed of the relief I felt whenever Jacob found a reason to avoid me.”
“Please tell me that was the end of it.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath of fresh air into my lungs and holding it until my lungs began to burn.
“I wish it was,” I whispered. I finally dared a glance at Kameron, who was staring straight ahead, his hands clasped together in a white-knuckled grip. “Hey.”
He turned his head to look at me. I could tell by the look in his eyes he was furious, but I knew somehow that he wasn’tfurious at me. He was angry at Jacob, at the memory of him that lingered behind my eyes.
“You don’t have to hear the rest,” I whispered. “It’s heavy stuff. I won’t blame you for needing a break.”
“You’ve carried this for years,” Kameron said, swallowing audibly. “Let me carry some of this weight for you.”
I let my hand drop from his face, reaching instead for his hand. He shuddered, but took it, linking our hands together. I didn’t realize how much I’d needed that touch, that grounding presence, until I found myself leaning into his chest.
“I didn’t see him much that week. Abbie and I texted sparsely, but I kept our conversations to a minimum. That was another thing that could trigger Jacob’s jealousy—long phone calls or text message threads with people that weren’t him.”
“Abbie’s your best friend,” Kameron said, his body tense. I held him tighter, pressing my face into his shirt, allowing myself this moment of comfort.
He was clearly trying so hard to keep it together for my sake. He wanted this moment to be about me and not him, even if he was infuriated by what he was hearing.
“Two weeks after the ball, they were scheduled to go to the field, so I wasn’t expecting to see him that night. When I got home from grocery shopping, I walked in the house to see Jacob sitting at the dining room table. I’d seen Jacob angry so many times. I’d seen him pissed beyond belief. But I’d never seen him so angry he was calm.”
I shuddered and pulled away from Kameron’s embrace. I wrapped my arms around myself, as if I could stop the cold dread sluicing through the very center of my being.
“Stop,” Kameron murmured. “I can’t—I want to know this, eventually. But I can’t tonight. Because every part of my being wants to find this motherfucker and kill him for ever laying a hand on you.”
Some of the tightness in my chest eased at his words.
Whether he asked me to stop for my sake or for his, I didn’t know. I also didn’t care. I’d spent enough time going over the events of that night in my head. I didn’t need to do it with Kameron, too. We could pick this conversation up a different day.
“I think the craziest part about that night is that I still don’t know what I did. That’s the thing about abusive relationships—once you’re out of one, you can spend hours ruminating over every little thing you did, trying to trace your actions to their reactions. I knew most of Jacob’s triggers. I did everything in my power to avoid pissing him off. I permanently walked on eggshells around him, even in my own house, and yet when I think about that night, I’m at a loss. What had I done to deserve it?”
“Nothing,” Kameron rasped. “You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
Something broke in me as I looked at him, the stars twinkling above us.
“I know that now,” I said, reaching for his hands. I interlocked our fingers once more, damning the consequences. He needed to feel grounded in the same way I did.
“Imogen,” Kameron said. The way he whispered my name as if it was something holy, sacred, was my final undoing. I leaned into him fully, tilting my face towards his and pressinga featherlight kiss to his lips. It was barely there, a whisper, an echo of the fire that blazed between us on the dock that day.
“I can’t pretend anymore,” I whispered against his lips. “I can’t pretend that I don’t see you everywhere. That I don’t want to feel you everywhere, too. I’ve thought about kissing you every single day since that day at the dock, and now that everything is out in the open between us, I don’t want to run. I don’t want to pretend like I don’t want you.”
Kameron pulled back the slightest fraction so he could look into my eyes.
“Am I dreaming?”
I let out a small laugh, holding his face in my hands, running my thumbs along the black beard growing there.
