Page 48 of Come Back for Me
“How about we go on the porch, that way she doesn’t overhear if she wakes up.”
“Sounds good.”
I release a deep breath through my nose and follow him out. We sit on the porch swing, and I shiver from the drop in air temperature, but I have so much to say, I don’t give myself a second to think about it.
“I want to tell you that I really have no idea if it’s possible. I’d like to explain, if that’s okay?”
“Of course.”
I plan to bare my soul and hope I make it out of this without crumbling.
“I met you the night before I married Kevin. In some part of my brain, I knew I didn’t love him and shouldn’t marry him, but I felt like . . . I had to. I truly believed he loved me and was just protective—maybe a bit jealous and insecure. It was the way he talked to or about me, you know? I convinced myself that once our relationship was secure, he’d be too. I was wrong. In my heart, I knew it wouldn’t matter and I shouldn’t do it. I went to the bar that night because I was lost and that was the last place my parents were. They meant everything to me. They were . . . they were killed in a hit and run close to the bar a week prior, and I’d been a mess since their death. My entire world was gone just like that and I thought, well, I thought that if I could feel them then I’d know what to do. But then you said hello, and I was so lost. It took one word for my entire life to feel as though it had been righted. You were so wonderful, and you looked at me like I was special and beautiful. We danced in that bar, and I wanted one night that every girl dreams of. Even if it could only be that solitary night? Even if it was so wrong?”
“But it didn’t have to be that once.”
He’s right. If I hadn’t left before he woke, I might have never married Kevin. Even if Connor had still left, maybe I would’ve found the courage to walk away, seeing what I could’ve had. I was so naïve and didn’t want the morning sun to wipe away the night we shared in darkness. Instead of facing the possibilities, I settled for what I thought was my only option.
I hadn’t really thought Connor could have been more because he was just as happy spending that night wrapped in anonymity as I was.
“I think we’d be lying if we said that was true. You were running from something too, if I remember correctly.”
We used each other to escape the reality of our lives. As much as I would like to believe there could be more, it wasn’t true. And I’ve done enough pretending to know the difference.
He looks out at the horizon and grips the bottom of the swing. “I was.”
“You’re not married, so it couldn’t be that.” I attempt a little levity.
Clearly, it didn’t work because he now looks as if he’s haunted by something.
“The night we met . . .” He trails off.
I reach out, placing my hand on his, and his other hand covers mine. The shiver I experience this time has nothing to do with the cold. “The night we met?” I struggle to keep my voice even.
Connor’s face shows no emotion, but the air around us feels heavy. It’s strange, and yet, I remember this same exact feeling the night we met. It was as though I felt his touch so deeply that I would never be the same. Our hearts became tangled as we bared ourselves in ways that I didn’t know were possible.
“It was so much more . . .”
“I know what you mean.”
He shakes his head, breaking us both from the odd connection. “My father was an abusive drunk who beat the shit out of me and my brothers.”
A piece of me shatters from that one sentence. “Connor . . .”
“No, I don’t talk about this well, so let me try to get it out.”
I press my lips together tightly, giving him the silence he asks for.
“When my mother died, he became a completely different person. He drank constantly, and when the alcohol stopped numbing the pain, he decided to spread it around. My brothers took what they could to protect me since I was the youngest and by far the smallest.”
My chest aches, but I hold in any sound as he keeps talking.
“When they left, it became a lot harder to avoid him. I learned that running made it worse. When I came back, I paid for it.”
I wrap my fingers around his, giving him whatever support I can lend. I can’t fathom the betrayal he must’ve felt when the one person he needed the most was the person breaking him. He’s been so steadfast in his support for me, giving me what I needed without asking, and I have no idea if it’s hurt him at all.
Did he relive what he endured?
Does he look at me and see a weak woman, even though he’s the one telling me how strong I am?
