Page 63 of True Honey
Inside was shabby, the walls had seen better days and were covered in paint and chips. In the center of the room sat a couple pairs of overalls and glasses. Along with a large garbage can full of well loved tools.
“A rage room,” I said to her, closing the door behind us before she could turn and run.
I knew the thought of it would scare her, hence the surprise. I had run through my speech to her about a hundred times before waking her up that morning preparing for this exact moment.
“Silas,” her voice broke on my name.
“I haven’t lied to you once since we met,” I said to her, stepping forward to block her path to the door. Her eyes looked around the room and her heart was pounding so loud I could hear it echoing off the walls as she started to panic. “So I’m not going to start, I’m sorry that I yelled at you yesterday. I was overwhelmed, stressed out and distracted but it wasn’t your fault and the glass breaking was bad timing. August told me…”
“Told you what?” I watched as she froze.
“He told me about your ex, breaking dishes…yelling.”
“Bradley never hit me, I’m not some—” Drew started but I cut her off.
“I didn’t ask,” I said calmly, seeing the fear in her eyes. I wanted to. I wanted to know just how bad it was under some stupid pretense that maybe I could fix it for her. Fix everything. But for now, I’d try to just fix this. “I just wanted to apologize for making you feel so small. It wasn’t my intention and I promise I’ll be more careful going forward.”
“I’m not some broken doll,” Drew argued but there was no fight to her voice.
“Alright spitfire, listen,” I said with a smirk on my face. “I brought you here because I wanted to show you it’s possible to break the cycle.”
She watched me carefully, surprisingly letting me continue as she processed everything she had heard so far. I could tell she was internally losing her mindbut she was trying to hide herself behind walls she assumed I couldn’t tear down.
“I grew up walking on eggshells,” I said and she raised her brow. “Oh I know what’s going on in there.” I tapped my temple with one finger.
“Boo hoo, the handsome rich doctor had a mean dad. I was and will always be a business tool to my family, maybe not my mother. But I was never a child, and I’ve heard the sound of shattering glass more than you know.”
Her eyes softened at my confession.
“I’ve watched my best friend attend baseball games covered in bruises, watched his mother shield her sons until the day she died. I’ve watchedmyown parade around like she was invincible even in the face of every man in her life trying to tear her down.” I inhaled slowly, people had no idea. “Found out I had a brother whose life was…” I swallowed hard. “Watched a man lose his wife and a team of young boys lose a woman so special to them they’re still mourning her death. They’ve gone through hell, we all have.” I said quietly. “Before you throw that rock, knowmyhouse is made of glass too.”
“So you’re a hypocrite?” Drew asked when I went quiet, but it wasn’t malicious.
“Sure, something like that. I judge people too quickly based on assumptions, and I’m sorry that I scared you yesterday. But this, this is how you get over that sound. It’s how I did. It’s the only place I could just come and let everything out that I had been holding on to. All that anger, all the grief, all the fear of not being good enough.”
Drew wet her bottom lip as she thought about what I said. I don’t know if I got through to her or if I was totally off base but I held my breath and waited.
“Give me the bat.” Her voice was shaky, quiet—but her hand was steady and that was all I needed.
COURTNEY
Iwas shaking, absolutely terrified of what came next. Silas helped me into a pair of coveralls and I pushed the safety glasses down over my face and took a deep breath.
“So I just break stuff?” I asked him and he nodded, zipping up his own and grabbing the sledgehammer from the bin he rolled it in his hand.
“You just break stuff,” he said with a bright smile.
Just not your heart.
No, that’s special.
Silas watched closely as I stepped toward the table. The gloves were a little too big, every fibre scratching at my skin. He had laid everything out of the table and stepped back so I could pick what I wanted to break.
It felt silly, absolutely ridiculous that he wanted me to take out my anxiety on the poor chip plate in front of me. I stared at it, remembering every time Bradley hurled one across the house, the sharp shatter echoing off the walls.
Figure yourself out Drew.
Smash.
