Page 58 of A Breath of Life
“Go on, D. I’m listening.”
He didn’t go on. Not at first. He traced the pattern on my shirt, tongued the cut on his lips, and pinched both eyes closed as though the mere thought pained him.
“Do you know…” He shook his head and started again. “In all my life, I’ve only ever… Fuck. Before you…” A noise of frustration rose from his throat. “Goddammit. I can’t do it.”
I rested my hands on his upper arms, bracing against the strained muscles under his T-shirt sleeves. “Yes, you can. Before me,” I prompted.
“Okay. Before you… I only ever had one boyfriend.”
Gasping playfully, I clutched my chest. “Diem Krause. Do you mean to say I wasn’t the first? Here I thought I’d won the lottery convincing you to date me.”
The words were lighthearted, aimed at bringing his anxiety to a manageable level, but Diem’s pained expression didn’t change. I instantly regretted acting so flippant over a topic that was clearly serious.
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
“I never loved him, Tallus. Not like you. I’m not sure I even liked him. It was…” He clenched his teeth, jaw ticking as his throat worked. “Unhealthy. Destructive. Familiar.”
Abusive, he didn’t say, but I read between the lines. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this story. Hadn’t he been through enough?
“I was young, barely out of high school, and thick into my fighting days. Angry like you wouldn’t believe. He was much older. I was a big kid. Six and a half feet by the time I was eighteen, but he was… seasoned.”
Diem sighed heavily and shook his head, trying to pull from my hold. “Never mind. This is stupid. I don’t know what I’m saying. You don’t need to hear this, and I don’t want to go back in time. Fuck Dr. Peterson. He doesn’t know shit.”
I locked my legs around Diem’s waist, keeping him in place. “Don’t do that. It’s clearly troubling you, and whatever it is, I can handle it. I’m listening, Guns. There’s no rush.”
It was a rare day when Diem felt safe enough to wade into the past and share his dark secrets. Whatever this was, it must have felt important. He’d never openly spoken of a past relationship, but I’d caught hints that one existed. I’d suspected. I didn’t want him to quit sharing because he thought I couldn’t deal with the truth. His pain was my pain. If he had to endure it every day in the confines of his mind, I wanted to be there to support him. To share the burden. To hopefully provide an ounce of relief.
Lowering his chin, the shadows in the room engulfed him. He spoke while fiddling with the ends of my tie. “My entire life to that point had been a toxic sludge of abuse by my father and abandonment by my mother. Boone was great, but he always looked the other way, and Nana…” A soft sigh escaped him. “She tried. I don’t blame her.”
“What was his name?” I prompted when he got lost in his head.
“It doesn’t matter, and I’m not going to speak it. I don’t want to get into details, but I can tell you that much of ourrelationship—if that’s what you want to call it—revolved around…” He paused as though struggling to catch his breath or find the right word. “Around nonconsensual activities.”
“Christ, Diem.” I tugged my tie from his hands, stopping his incessant fiddling, and forced his chin up.
His pained gaze drifted over my shoulder, refusing eye contact.
When he spoke, his voice was flat and dead of emotion. “He took my father’s abuse to a level I didn’t know existed. By that point, I figured pain was a normal part of life that I would never escape. I’ve always believed I’m a worthless human being.”
“You’re not.”
“His taunts echoed my father’s. His words were the same. When you believe your life holds no value and that you deserve what’s being done, you don’t fight back. You take the punishment because you must have asked for it. By that point, I was already on a downward spiral. Drinking and drugs were a huge problem. I’d cut my thighs to shit to purge the vileness I was told lived inside me. I… I wanted to slit my wrists and was fairly certain I would find the courage one day. If I didn’t kill myself, maybe I could provoke him enough that he would do it for me. I wanted someone to put me out of my misery.”
I barely recognized Diem’s voice any longer. His hollow tone chilled me. He talked but was far, far away. Lost in the past. In the pain.
“That bar fight I told you about. The one where I nearly killed the guy and wound up in rehab, thanks to Nana. That’s how I got out. It took months of rehab before I found an ounce of self-worth and decided I didn’t want to die. That’s when I swore that I would never again be someone else’s punching bag.”
Diem grew silent, but I sensed he wasn’t done. He was merely ordering his thoughts before continuing, so I let him. Why he’d chosen today to unveil this secret, I had no idea. It felt like it came out of left field. The beating had triggered him badly. The loss of control, I assumed. The powerlessness of the ordeal. It must have unearthed a flood of memories.
His haunted gaze met mine. When his hands landed on my thighs again, they trembled. “You’ve given me so much, Tallus.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before you, I didn’t know what happiness looked like. I didn’t think it was a real thing or possible for someone like me. I didn’t know what constituted a healthy relationship. No one has ever looked at me the way you do. I know you try to be patient.”
“I’ve failed lately.”
“No. It’s me. I don’t respond well when under stress. I know that. I’m trying to change.”
