Page 131 of Hale Yes
“When I got upstairs, I saw immediately that something was really off. All my clothes had been hung on one side, and women’s clothes hung on the other. I recognized them as Kayla’s.”
“Shit,” I mumble, and he nods.
“Very shit,” he replies. “That’s when I realized what was off about my living room. My coffee table was gone, and it had been replaced with Kayla’s little spindly-legged one. She had effectively moved herself into my apartment while I was gone.”
This tale had officially gone dark, and I clenched tightly to his hand.
“I went downstairs, and she was coming out of my kitchen wearing an apron and one of those dresses that looked straight out of a 1950s sitcom.”
“She broke in?” I ask incredulously.
“She had a key, which I took back from her after we broke up. Apparently, she had copies made.” He winces. “I know now I should have had the locks changed, but hindsight and all that.”
We each take a sip of wine before he starts talking again.
“I asked Kayla what the hell she was doing in my house, and she informed me—very calmly, I might add—that she was taking care of things for me like a good wife should do. I was just flabbergasted and so damn angry. We’d never even gotten close to the marriage level, at least in my eyes. I told her she needed professional help, and she started to cry. That kind of shit used to work on me, but I was beyond caring. I yelled at her to get out.”
Helix’s head moves side to side as if he still can’t believe what happened next. “She told me she couldn’t have this discussion right then because she had dinner in the oven. So she wiped her eyes on her frilly apron and went back into the kitchen. I was standing there trying to figure out what the fuck was happening.”
I stay quiet, though I want to rage on his behalf. His voice takes on a raspy quality, rough and scratchy.
“I finally followed her into the kitchen and found her holding one of my huge butcher knives. She told me my heart belonged to her, and she planned to take it.”
My free hand slaps across my mouth, and I curse into my palm. This bitch had gone completely psycho.
“When she lunged at me, I tried to dodge.” Helix’s eyes came to me. “I often wonder what would have happened if I’d just punched her. My instincts have always been to never lay an angry hand on a woman, but I still wonder if my life would have turned out differently if I’d done more to protect myself. Then I feel like a horrible person for even thinking it.”
Squeezing his hand hard, I say, “There’s a difference between abuse and self-defense, Helix. You shouldn’t feel bad for thinking about it. Hell, I wouldn’t have blamed you a bit if you’d cold-cocked her.”
His smile is sad. “That’s what Phoenix said. And my therapist. I saw Dr. Shannon for two years afterward. We talked a lot about toxic masculinity and society’s standards for how men should act. Like the whole thing with the restraining order. I let myself be shamed into dropping it becausea real mandoesn’t need outside help in a relationship.”
“Utter bullshit,” I grumble.
“Yeah, I know that now. I’ve grown a lot since then.”
My eyes flick to his shoulder, hidden beneath the cobalt-blue of his shirt. “Is that what happened to your shoulder?”
Helix nods and stares at the fringe ringing the rug beneath the coffee table. “Yeah. When I dodged, the knife went into my shoulder, severing my coracoclavicular ligament.” His chin trembles, and it hurts me to the depths of my soul. “It ended my swimming career.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I can’t help myself. I throw my arms around Helix and let him bury his face in my neck. His arms are strong and warm around me, and I realize how much I’ve missed his hugs.
We cling together, me whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” over and over into his thick, dark hair.
“No, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I should have told you way earlier about all this, but it’s not easy for me. My entire life changed that night, and it’s not something I like to dwell on. But it definitely caused trust issues.”
He pulls back, and I see a tear hanging on his bottom lashes. Helix swipes it away with his thumb before using his index finger to wipe beneath my left eye. I hadn’t even realized I’d been crying too. Then he smudges his thumb and forefinger together, melding our tears together. It’s such an intimate thing to do, like some kind of weird blood pact but with tears. I don’t dislike it.
“I just wanted you to know everything, Nicolette. Yes, I screwed up, but I never stopped loving you, not for a second. I understand if you can’t find it inside yourself to forgive me, but I’d like to try and make it up to you.” His blue eyes search my face. “Will you let me try?”
Oh my heart. It pounds and it hurts and… it starts to heal. Just the tiniest bit. But I still feel the need to protect it from further damage.
“You hurt me, Helix. You didn’t trust me. I’ve told you how I’ve always felt I was written in the margins of my own life, and what you did shoved me back to the margins.”
“I know.” He cups my face, and another tear falls from his eye. “I can never apologize enough. If you say it’s over for good, I’ll respect that, but if you think there’s even a chance you could forgive me, I will fight for you, Nicolette, because you don’t belong in the margins. You’re front and center of my life, and I want to prove it.”
Helix drops to his knees on the rug and sandwiches my hand between his. “I will do anything in my power to get you back, Nicolette Bell.” His lips quirk up the tiniest of bits. “Short of stalking. After what happened to me, I understand boundaries, so if you set them, I will follow them. I love you with my entire heart, and if there’s a glimmer of hope, I will grab onto it.”
