Page 48 of Nothing To Lose
"Might be a while," he says. "That was intense."
A while turns out to be the next morning in the shower, but he's in a hurry. He has to stop by his apartment before he heads to school, and he wants to be there early to discuss his project with the professor. I'm really tempted to play with him while he's dabbing concealer around his bruises, but I behave myself. Meanwhile, I'm staring at his ass and making plans for it later.
* * *
It's tooquiet without Tyler here. Or maybe empty is a better description, since he's not particularly loud. I'm the loud one, constantly running my power tools.
How is it that I've been absolutely fine here on my own for this long, but I spend less than two weeks with this guy and I'm lost without him already? I'm going to need to rein in the neediness before I chase him away.Who even am I?
My phone pings, and I get unreasonably hopeful that it's Tyler before I remember he barely ever turns his phone on. I guess to avoid his father. My blood pressure rises when I see its Anders.
Anders: the building behind me has cameras too and uses the same service we do. request is in, it will take a couple days to get the footage.
Me: thank you
I hope he's wrong,but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I've spent hours trying to remember any little detail of what I saw that I could take back to the police. But whenever I try to look back and focus on the details, I keep seeing blond hair and a grey pea coat, and I'm not sure if that's actually what I saw, or if my brain is filling in gaps. I can't even remember what I told the cops. All of my attention was, and still is, focused on Tyler. Even before I knew it was him in that alley, he was my only focus. I had to make sure he was alive, had to get him some help, had to be there when he woke up so I could see with my own two eyes that he was okay.
This is only the second time I've spent more than a few hours away from him since that day. I recognize that I'm forming an attachment, and that it might not be healthy or have the healthiest origins. But having him here settles me for multiple reasons. The most pressing being that I can’t be convinced he's not in danger if I don't see proof otherwise.
If his date—Guy—was the one to hurt him, why isn't Tyler turning him in? Why did he lie to the police about it? Why is he covering for him, making excuses, and still lying about it now?
Why is he lying to me about it? And does it change anything between us if he is?
15
TYLER
My reflection shows nothing of the guy I was twelve days ago. Part of that has to do with the last vestiges of the fading bruises. No matter how much concealer I use, I can still see the darker splotches of skin under the makeup. The coverage is good enough that no one else can tell, but I know what's there. I still see the proof of it every day in the mirror. Once the last of the scars are gone, will I be able to forget? Will I be able to close my eyes without remembering what it was like to not know if I'd ever open my eyes again? Will I be able to let my boyfriend tackle me playfully and grope my ass without panicking?
Boyfriend.
That'sthe difference that people can see. All around me, people have been smiling and making conversation, treating me differently than they ever did before. It took me half the day to realize what’s changed, and it’s me. People are smiling at me because I'm smiling. They're talking to me because I'm greeting them in return, not avoiding eye contact and shrinking into the background.
People are treating me with a different level of respect because I've learned to respect myself. The world is a different place when you walk through it with even the smallest amount of confidence. I recognize that I owe the difference in me to Isaac. Not because I need a man to make me worthy, but because in our short time together, he's taught me that I already am. I always was.
I don't recognize the man in the mirror, but I like this version of myself so much better.
This version of me wouldn't have escaped through a back door because his date was embarrassing him.
This version of me wouldn't have gone anywhere with the asshole when he showed up half drunk.
This version of me wouldn't have agreed to the damn date in the first place.
This version of me would have smiled back the first time the tall, tattooed hottie looked my way.
This version of me would stand up to my father.
Or not.
Because when I run into him less than an hour later, as I'm getting in my car to leave campus, I can feel myself shrink in on myself. I physically feel myself grow smaller, like Alice In Wonderland, just being in his presence.
"It seems you've recovered from your mysterious illness," are the first words I hear from him.
"Hello, Father."
"Where have you been?"
"I don't know what you mean."
