Chapter Thirty-Seven
Fallon
I’m gently closing the spare bedroom door when the sound of someone clearing their throat comes from behind me.
Luke is leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway.
He is in a pair of loose sweats and a hoodie, with damp hair as if he's just got out of the shower.
Even after a night of drinking and drama, he still manages to look irresistible.
His lips lift into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
I haven’t missed the fact that he hasn’t asked me about what Layla said earlier.
Although we haven’t had much alone time since we got home.
He hasn’t pushed, hasn’t pestered, hasn’t mentioned it at all.
And that fact alone makes my chest squeeze even tighter.
I know it isn’t because he doesn’t care, it’s the opposite.
He cares so much, he won't lose me by pushing me away.
“Come on, baby, let's get you ready for bed,” he whispers, as if Layla can hear us.
He takes my hand and leads me into his room, where he has already lifted out my favourite t-shirt of his to sleep in, and a large fluffy towel.
He thinks of everything. I make quick work of showering and scrubbing the monstrosity of smeared makeup covering my face, just needing to crawl into bed with my man.
The moment I slide inside the covers, his arms are open, ready for me to curl up against him.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” I say, around the lump forming in my throat. “It definitely didn’t end how I expected.”
His chest rumbles with a short laugh, “You're telling me.”
“Are you tired?” I ask.
“A little, but never too tired for you.”
I smile against him, before pushing away to lie on my back. Staring up at the ceiling, I gear myself up, ready for what needs to be said.
“When I was in college, I fell in love, and it didn’t end well,” I breathe out.
His arm tenses beneath me at my words, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“The man I fell for… He hurt me… more than anyone ever has before. Not just physically, but emotionally. The emotional abuse was far worse.” I take a deep, shaky breath before I can go on.
“He used the fact that my dad walked out on us as a ploy to get closer to me. Helping me to do the things he knew my mother couldn’t.
Like showing me how to fix a tyre or helping me with my studying.
He would tell me how gorgeous I was, and how he couldn’t believe I had never had a boyfriend.
He couldn’t believe that I was seventeen and had never had sex before.
How could such a beautiful, funny, smart girl not have given her body to another? ”
I can feel how his fist clenches and unclenches against my side, so I drop my hand to cover his, threading our fingers together.
“Who was he, Fallon?” His monotone voice asks.
But I ignore the question and carry on.
“At first, it started as extra tutoring, because I struggled a lot with English literature. Then he would bring me gifts, expensive gifts.” I laugh humourlessly.
“When I look back, they weren’t expensive at all, but to me they were.
He started with my favourite snacks, sometimes flowers, and then it was jewellery.
I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
How could such a man like me? Want to take care of me?
” I shake my head, knowing how bad it must sound.
“The only person I ever told what was happening was Maya, and she didn’t like it.
She told me it didn’t feel right, and that he was using me.
Of course, silly young Fallon got angry at this and stopped speaking to her. ”
A lone tear escapes my eye, landing on the arm curled beneath me.
“Fallon,” Luke's voice croaks out.
“So, when he asked me whether I wanted a lift home, of course, I said yes. That’s where he took my virginity in the back of his car.
Can you believe I thought it was romantic?
From that point on, I started to lie to my mother about where I was going, where I was staying, and who I was with, because I was always with him.
It wasn’t long before his true colours started to show. ”
“Fallon,” Lukes says again. This time, there's more force in his tone. “Who was he?”
“It was just four months until Maya realised what was happening. He hid it well at first. The bruises were either on my arms, thighs or stomach. Nowhere that anyone could easily see. He was so angry all the time, and I never found out the reason for it. Sometimes it was because I had to go home earlier than he expected, or I failed an exam we’d studied for.
Sometimes because of the way one of the boys in class looked at me.
There was no rhyme or rhythm. I think he just enjoyed hurting me, controlling me.
” My voice is numb now, coming out more as a rehearsed speech than the horrible memories that they are.
“But she was too late. I was pregnant, Luke, and he hurt me that badly that I lost the baby.”
“Oh, Fal…” His voice sounds pained this time.
“I will not let Layla go through this alone. I would hate for anybody to feel the way I did back then. I have to help her. She sought me out for a reason. I want him behind bars for what he's done to us.”
He squeezes my hand once more as I take a large breath.
“His name is John Tatum. He was my college principal.”