Page 85 of Naive in Love

I pause, wanting to tell him but barely understanding it all myself. “I’m not sure how to explain and it make sense.” He remains unmoving, his features perfect. “It was all little things I guess, but when you put them together, I guess there was a pattern. He was always in control.”

“Go on,” he prompts. “I’m listening.”

“Caleb was really good at turning situations around and making me to blame. His logic seemed to make sense but was completely unfair to me. I would be mad at him for something he did, and then all of a sudden, I was to blame, and he was forgiving me for whatever he did. He was a master at that. Then I would walk on eggshells so I didn’t upset him, trying to avoid fights.”

Ethan does not show any emotion as I’m explaining. I begin to wonder if I am making more of the story. Is it bigger in my head?

“What did he turn around on you?”

I think about all the times we fought, looking for a good example. I close my eyes, scared of judgment. “I guess you are a good example. I stopped telling him when we would hang out because he would get mad. Yet when I would get mad about Emily, he would say that they were friends and I was overreacting. But he was never overreacting when he was mad because of you. Or my clothes. He would get mad because I wore something he didn’t approve of. Guys would flirt with me, and I was to blame because what I wore, or I looked in their direction, or some other insane reason like that. But when he flirted with girls at the bar, he was only increasing his tips. He couldn’t stand I chose to live with Lena. He said after the first weekend that she was a bad influence. Most things were small like that, but it was a constant thing.”

Ethan brings his hand up, brushing loose strands of my hair back away from my face. I hadn’t opened my eyes, frightened of judgment.

“Baby girl, look at me.” I open my eyes slowly. “I kinda figured as much. I just didn’t realize how bad it was.”

His belief in me and everything I went through sends a wave of relief. It triggers me to continue with things left unsaid last night.

“I know you said no apologies, but I do have to apologize. I knew I had feelings for you almost from the beginning, but I never admitted it. The girls knew and would ask, but I would deny it. I didn’t…or couldn’t believe you could have feelings for me because I didn’t think much of myself. My insecurities were dictating my actions. And it didn’t help that I was always walking a tight rope with Caleb. Juggling his moods was a full-time job.” I take a deep, cleansing breath, letting go of all the negative thoughts about myself.

Another lesson through all of this is that I need to believe in myself. I am good enough. I do not have to settle just because someone chooses me. I have to choose them in return.

“We are here now. I am happy with where we are. Whatever it took for us to get here, may not have been fun, but got us here.”

“Are you sure? No regrets?”

“Maybe one.” The pause lasts forever. “I couldn’t protect you. You still got hurt.”

“But it wasn’t your job to protect me. I have to protect myself. While I love you for wanting to, I have to do it.” I say it with as much conviction I can muster.

“Yes, you do have to do it on your own, but if you are with me, I want to be there for you. However you need me to be.”

I place my hand on his scruffy cheek, wishing we could clear this hurdle. “Let’s move on. Leave the past and our mistakes there. Be happy we’re here now. Please.”

“Anything you want.” He closes his eyes, rubbing his face against my hand. “Let’s get ready for bed, baby. It’s getting late, and we have classes tomorrow.”

* * *

I waketo Ethan’s long, deep breaths. I am tucked in his embrace. Opening my eyes to his perfectly chiseled chest is too tempting for me not to touch it. My hand begins to explore his defined stomach, tracing the lines and ridges. His muscles tense under me.

“Mmmmm. What time is it?” He murmurs, his voice filled with sleep.

I lift my head, glancing at the clock.

“Crap.”

“What?” he asks, refusing to open his eyes as my hand is still lazily running along his chest and stomach.

“We have to get up. We’ll make it just in time for class.” I groan as I drop my head back down on him. His hand begins to rub my back, sliding up my arm to tangle in my hair as his fingers expertly massage my scalp, an instant relaxer.

The conviction I had about getting up just a moment ago leaves my body.

“Didn’t you just say something about getting up?” he teases.

“I know. I know. But if I’m going to move, you need to stop massaging me. It feels too good to want to move.”

“Now you know how I feel, then.” He brings his free hand on top of my hand running it all along his chest and stomach.

“Oops. My bad.” I place a kiss on his chest, savoring the feel of him before I get up and make my way to the bathroom.

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