Chapter 9 Malin
MALIN
I spend as much time as I can with Gracen over the next couple of weeks. I’m so relieved that there’s something about him that silences Ryan’s voice in my head that I don’t think about what it might mean otherwise or how my constant seeking him out could be interpreted.
A lot of the time I spend asleep. After many weeks of not sleeping because Ryan is angrier than usual, I take every opportunity to catch up.
Four days ago, I realized that it’s not just the peace Gracen offers, but I also enjoy his company.
I enjoy our conversations. Most of the time, they’re about nothing at all.
This realization alone silenced Ryan for quite some time, since I can’t recall a single time in my life that I’ve wanted to spend time with someone.
Maybe as a small child.
Can I really count the years I wanted to be in Ryan’s company?
Abused children are always looking to their abusers for approval in hopes that, with said approval, the abuse will stop.
Even though I didn’t view what Ryan did to me as abuse or wrong by any means, I loved the days when he didn’t touch me under my clothes.
Even as I got older and the touch hurt less, the days he left me alone were my favorite days.
When he’d just tell me I was his good boy, a perfect boy for all to see how they should behave. When I could watch him work and see him spread the word of God. Those were my favorite days.
But even that time when I wanted to be with Ryan, it was a different feeling than this. I can’t explain why. I don’t understand how it’s different. Is it because the expectations are different?
“Are there expectations at all?” I muse to the phone book on my desk.
“He wants your body,” Ryan’s voice says.
I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t touch me like you did,” I accuse.
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you. And you want him to touch you. Don’t you, aberrant boy?”
“Do I?” I wonder.
I stare at the names in front of me, absently reciting them in my head. Oppel, Oppelt, Oppermann, Oppliger… My thoughts turn inward as I examine what I feel. How my body responds. If it responds at all.
Glimpses of my cleansings with Ryan flicker through my mind. How my body responded then. Does that count? That wasn’t all on its own. Ryan made my body respond then.
Relationships perplex me because of the weird childhood I had. Most would say fucked up. I’m inclined to believe them, but I suppose I’m not completely free of the brainwashing. That’s what everyone says, because I still believe that Ryan loved me.
I was there. I know how it felt to be loved by him.
Ellory and Avory hover in my mind, and I think that maybe the only time I’ve ever wanted any kind of relationship at all has been with Ellory.
My therapists say that I’ve latched onto Ellory not because I’m truly attracted to him or in love with him, but because he’s the first and only person to have ever offered me safety. He saw what was going on right away. In fourteen years, he’s the only person who had ever tried to save me.
Hero worship. I’m not actually in love with him. I’m not actually attracted to him. I hero-worship him.
So what is it about Gracen that makes this different?
It can’t just be because he smells good.
And he does. He smells better than any other living thing I’ve ever been close enough to smell.
Better than any place I’ve ever been. The way his scent saturates me is absolutely intoxicating. Addicting. I want more.
“Hey, Malin.”
I look up and realize I’m not in my office anymore. I’m in the breakroom, standing in front of the fridge and staring inside. Huh.
“Hi,” I return to Jessica. I take a step back so she can get into the fridge when I realize that’s what she’s waiting for.
“What’s up?”
I take a step back and close the fridge, shaking my head.
“Guess I’m thirsty.” The cabinet to the left of the fridge is filled with different multi-use beverage containers.
Different sizes. Different style lids. Hot and cold; glass, metal, or plastic.
All with different departments of Van Doren Technologies branded on the side.
My house has a hundred of these, and yet, I grab another. There are probably ten in my office, but this one is nice. I don’t have this one.
Returning to the fridge, I fill my new cup with ice and then water.
Jessica is now sitting at the table, eating the contents of her food container as she watches me. Unsure if I’m supposed to stay, I join her at the table. She smiles and pushes another container toward me. There are berries inside, so I take a couple.
“How’s work?” she asks.
What do I even do for work? I shrug. That answer works for both of our questions. “How’s… law?”
Her smile widens. “I’d like to say the nastiness of this country is finally calming down, but I’d be na?ve to say so. Always busy.”
In a place where megachurch cults hurt thousands of people and are tax-free because they’re registered as a church? Yep, I get that. It’s incredibly stupid of people to think these things don’t exist because there’s not an instance around them.
“Are you due soon?” I ask, dropping my eyes to her belly.
Jessica smiles and rests a hand on her stomach. She’s the only person I’ve ever seen pregnant. None of the surrogates who carried my nieces and nephews has set foot on the Van Doren Estate. Then there are the kids who come from adoption. Sometimes they’re not infants when they join this family.
I wonder if all women are as cute as a doll when they’re pregnant, like Jessica is. I’m not sure if I understand what this ‘glow’ is all about, but she’s certainly beautiful.
“Three weeks,” she says.
“Girl, right?” I ask.
Jessica nods. “Yes. Rounding out with two boys and two girls. I like those odds.”
“No more after this one?”
“Oh no,” she says, laughing. “I’d like my body back now.”
“Is Myro happy to be done having kids?”
Jessica shrugs. “I think he’s happy either way. He likes the big family, but I think he misses having the ability to have privacy.”
I think about Ellory and Avory with their twins. “That’s probably why they have a nanny,” I muse.
She laughs again. “It’s absolutely why Avory and Ellory have a nanny.”
She nudges the berries closer to me, and I take another into my mouth. We’re quiet for several minutes.
“How are you, Malin?”
“Wicked boy,” Ryan answers. “It’ll take years to cleanse you now.”
His words make me shudder. “I’m fine.”
Her hand rests on mine, and I meet her eyes. Concern. Everyone is always so concerned when they look at me. I glance at where I imagine Ryan standing over my shoulder and see him sneer. No one is ever supposed to touch me. Not even innocent contact. I’m his alone.
Swallowing, I don’t pull my hand away, though my other is fisted in my lap.
“Are you?” she asks gently.
“I like Gracen’s company,” I say, hoping to change the subject. I hate when people ask me if I’m okay because they can’t see Ryan like I can, and it’s frustrating trying to explain him to them.
Jessica smiles. “He’s a good man.”
“Yes,” I agree. “He brings me peace.”
Ryan sneers. “He wants to defile you. He is a corrupt soul, and you let him touch you. You’re both going to hell.”
His words are loud enough that I miss the first part of Jessica’s response.
“…best about finding your person.”
I frown. Without the first half of that sentence, I have no idea what she’s saying.
“Does he know how you feel?”
“About what?”
She chuckles. “About him?”
“Oh, yes. I think I’ve told him that.” Perhaps not in those exact words, but more or less, right?
“I’m so glad that you’re getting to the point where you can find happiness with someone, Malin.”
She squeezes my hand and starts packing up her containers. They fit like a puzzle in her bag. I watch as she gets to her feet, struggling slightly, and then gently kisses the side of my head. Without another word, she leaves the break room.
Happiness with someone. Is that what I’m doing? Am I happy? I flinch away when Ryan sneers. I’m not sure I’d constitute this as happy. Ryan is giving me a headache, though.
With my new water bottle in hand, I leave the break room as well and head down the hall. I find myself standing outside Gracen’s office. His door is open because all doors are open. For a minute, I study him as he works.
He’s standing at his desk, one of his legs bent back so it’s balanced on the toe of his boot behind him. He leans over his keyboard, reading something on his screen. His hair is lighter than most of the Van Dorens around here, though not excessively so. His eyes are comparatively light.
His hair stands up, kind of coming to a point in the middle. As I stare at him, one of his hands goes through his hair, and I see why it stands on it. It’s the way he runs his hands through it. Is it intentional? Happenstance?
He has a full beard and mustache that vary in length. He keeps it neatly trimmed. His body is kind of elegant, shape-wise. He has some muscle here and there, but there’s also a lack of definition in other places.
And he’s hairy. Because his body hair is dark, it really stands out.
“You don’t look at another person like that, dirty child!”
I swallow. Perhaps it’s loud because Gracen turns his head to look at me. He smiles, and something happens in my chest. Does my heart skip? Is that what just happened?
“Hey,” he says, setting his foot flat on the floor with his other.
“Hi,” I answer and take a step forward. “Are you busy?”
“Eh. Come in if you’d like.”
I cross the room to stand beside him. I’m close. Too close to be appropriate, but Gracen wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. I rest my face on his shoulder, and Ryan’s voice vanishes.
“You bring me peace,” I repeat. If I haven’t said it before, I’ve said it now. If Jessica asks me again if I’ve told him how I feel, I can answer that I have with confidence.
“I enjoy being the person who brings you peace, Malin.”
“I like your company,” I add.
“I like yours,” he counters.
I pick my head up to look at him. His fingers trace along my jaw until he’s barely holding my chin. “Malin.”
“Mm?”
“Will you let me kiss you?”
Ryan’s anger is loud enough that I hear it over the barrier that being close to Gracen provides. However, it soon fades when my heart picks that moment to start pounding scarily fast.
“Yes?”
He chuckles lowly. “I’d prefer if you’re sure of your answer.”
“Oh. Uh. Yes. With a period. Not a question mark.”
His laughter is louder this time, but before I can determine if that clarifies my answer, his lips touch mine, and my breath is sucked from my lungs like a vacuum. I haven’t been kissed in a long time. Not since…
Gracen’s mouth moves gently against mine. His touch on my chin leaves, though his fingers move back along my jaw until they can tangle in my hair as he cups the back of my head. His tongue touches my lips, and for a moment, I’m taken back many years ago.
His tongue in my mouth was always gross. I’m prepared to hate this. I’m about to second-guess this.
But the way Gracen kisses me is different. There’s nothing even remotely the same about it. I feel different. I wrap my arms around Gracen’s neck and get lost in his kiss.