Chapter 21
21
BAILEY
I probably should have let him pick me up at my door but I just couldn’t wait to see him any longer. After Ophie and I talked on Thursday, I decided that if it felt right, I would share a little more about my past with him. While I hadn’t known him very long, there was something about him that made me feel like I could trust him. Not only with my story but also with myself. Something in my gut told me that he wouldn’t hurt me or look at me any differently once I told him about what happened to me two years ago. The feeling of safety and genuine care that radiated from him was undeniable. There were a few times I tried to sneak a peek at him as we drove, but every time I tried to take in his striking jawline or strong arms, he would look over at me and I would look away, feeling embarrassed that he caught me staring.
We had been driving for almost half an hour, crossing over the Ravenel Bridge into Mount Pleasant—the next closest part of Charleston—when we turned right off of the main road. I looked at him, confused, because I knew there weren’t any restaurants in this part of the city. Only a park and some old docked battleships that tourists would go and explore on their annual vacations. He simply smiled at me and gently squeezed my thigh where his hand had been resting the entire drive over. If he slips his fingers just a few inches higher …
When we pulled into a parking spot, he hopped out of the car and came to my side to open the door for me. Out of all the guys I had been with before, Hank was the first to open every door for me every time without fail—a true Southern gentleman through and through. He extended his hand toward me as he opened my door and I took it, letting him help me out of the car. Once he closed my door, he went and opened the tailgate. I looked around the park and took in all the people walking around and enjoying the summer evening. I loved Charleston during this time of year. Once the sun went down, the temperature was warm but enjoyable. The dress I’d picked was perfect for this kind of evening.
“You ready?” His voice behind me pulled my attention away from the people and towards him. I spun around to find him carrying a large wicker basket in one hand with a blanket draped over his other arm. I hadn’t noticed them since they were in the back of the SUV behind the row of seats.
“Hank.” I took a breath, my brain putting together what we were doing for our date. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you to dinner on the water like I promised,” he mused before turning on his heels and walking towards the park.
I trailed behind him as we walked towards a patch of grass and some trees scattered around in a seemingly disorganized manner. When we reached the trees closest to the water, he set the basket down on the grass and laid out the blanket under a tree. Then, he moved the basket to one corner of the blanket and sat down. He reached his hand to me and helped me take a seat next to him. I watched as he pulled out two plates, silverware, and plastic cups from inside the basket. Under the cutlery, he pulled out plastic containers that were full of food. I looked at him and couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re taking me on a picnic?” My eyebrows raised and I bit my bottom lip. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.
“I hope that’s okay,” he said, opening up the containers that held piping hot food. As he did, my nose was filled with the smell of spices and chili peppers. I looked in the containers and gasped. Each one was filled with what looked to be home-cooked Mexican food.
“Did you make all of this?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice which caused him to laugh.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” He looked at me with a grin that I wanted to cover with a kiss.
“I don’t know, I…I’ve never had a man cook me dinner before. Not to mention the whole picnic thing. I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” My heart fluttered in my chest. Setting the container down, he leaned in and kissed me.
“You deserve to have someone be nice to you, Bailey. I consider myself lucky to get to be the one who is.” I felt my cheeks get warm at his words.
“You know, for an ex-soldier, you’re kinda a big softy,” I teased, resting a hand on his cheek.
“Only for you,” he whispered through a soft smile close to my lips before pulling away.
We started eating and he explained each dish to me as we did. I loved how he explained them in great detail but loved even more how he spoke of how he learned to make them. He told me stories about how he and his mother would spend hours together in the kitchen cooking after school. How she would help him reach the counter by letting him stand on a chair and how she would refuse to speak anything but Spanish to him as they cooked. It made my heart hurt to think of all the memories he didn’t get to have with her because he lost her at such a young age. The memories he did have though, he shared with a fervor.
“And we would laugh and laugh,” he said, chuckling to himself as he took another bite of his food. As he did, some of the rice from his spoon fell off, landing on the blanket and nearly missing his pants. Without even skipping a beat, I reached over, picked up the spilled food, and popped it in my mouth. What could I say? It was too good to waste.
“Blondie,” he said, studying my face, “you have something on your…” He wiggled his finger near the corner of his mouth.
“Oh!” I went to wipe it away but he stopped me by grabbing my wrist.
“Here, let me get it.” Holding onto my wrist he pulled me closer until my face was in front of his. Since he was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, I had to sit on my knees to lean down to get close enough. Wrapping his hand around the side of my neck, he pulled me in and licked the side of my lips before pushing his tongue into my mouth, kissing me without shame right in the middle of the busy park. He pulled away from me and looked at my mouth, “There, I think I got it.” I rolled my eyes at him as I leaned back to sit on my butt again.
“I like hearing you talk about your mom, I can tell how much you love her. I’m sorry you lost her so soon.” I wasn’t sure if it was my place to say it, but I wanted him to know that he was safe to talk to me about her if he wanted to.
“I do love her. Even though she’s been gone for twenty years, I still love her more than anything.” His eyes were cast down toward the blanket. He seemed to be lost in a memory.
“I don’t mean to pry but…how did she die?” I played with the hem of my dress and worried I’d crossed a line. I didn’t want him to feel as if I was trying to be nosy, I just genuinely wanted to know more about him and his story.
“She died in a car accident.” His voice came out flat and void of emotion. His eyes met mine and I watched him with bated breath, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully for me, Hank kept talking. “My father killed her when he was driving home drunk. They had gone to dinner downtown and…he had too much to drink and…” His eyes fell to the blanket again. My hand reached for his in a desperate attempt to comfort him through his pain. His thumb swiped back and forth across the back of my hand but he didn’t look at me.
“It changed him, losing my mother. He had never been an overtly happy man before she died, but after she was gone, nothing was good enough for him.” He kept his eyes cast down toward the blanket as he shared his story and my heart squeezed in my chest. “Everything I did was wrong. Everything I did was a reason for punishment. He took all of his anger out on me, as if I was the one who killed her. Stupid bastard.”
“Hank…” I started, unsure of where to take my words next.
“Even now, twenty years later, his anger is embedded into my skin. A permanent reminder of what I lost and what I gained in return. A mother who I loved and a father who would only leave me alone after he beat me until I bled.” My breath caught in my throat hearing him share this about himself.
“The scars on your back…” My voice came out hardly above a whisper. I could feel the tears in my eyes as I thought about Hank as a little boy having to survive that kind of childhood.
“He loved using his belt.” He pursed his lips together and shook his head, blowing out a long breath as he did. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump this on you tonight. You asked about my mother, not about my scars or my childhood trauma.” He tried to laugh it off but I wouldn’t let him.
“Hank,” I moved so I was closer to him and took both his hands in mine, “we all have scars, even me. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” I licked my lips and took a breath. Was I really going to tell him now? I felt like I had to since he had shared so much with me. His act of bravery had inspired me to be brave and share a piece of myself with him too. He watched me intently, his deep brown eyes never breaking away from mine. When he cocked his head to one side, I took that as my invitation to keep going.
“Two years ago, while I was finishing up at an event I was working at…” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my heart rate which was reaching an unhealthy beats per minute, “I was attacked. Not just attacked, I was raped.” I couldn’t look at him any longer, the shame filling my body made it impossible. I hadn’t even realized I started crying until a big, wet tear splashed on the back of my hand. He gently wiped it away with his thumb, his hands slowly starting to squeeze mine with more power.
“Bailey, I?—”
“No, let me finish.” I needed to get this out before I couldn’t anymore. “I was raped outside of the event hall I worked at. It was the end of the night and I was trying to help by taking out the trash. The guy came out of nowhere and had me on the ground before I even knew what was happening. I tried to fight back but he was too strong. He had a knife, he…he threatened to kill me.” My words broke between sobs and I tried to catch my breath. Talking about this never got easier. It felt as if it was happening all over again every time I told the story. He sat up and pulled me closer to him, wrapping his body around mine like a shield.
“Bailey…” he hushed me as I cried into his shoulder right in the middle of the park. Anyone looking at us would think he was breaking up with me and not that I had just bared the ugliest part of myself to him.
“That’s why, the other night,” I hiccuped, “I haven’t been with anyone since that night. Not like that. I just got scared, that’s all.” It came out as an apology even though deep down I knew I had nothing to apologize for. For a few months after my attack, I went to groups with other women who had been through the same thing. We were often encouraged to accept and believe that what happened to us wasn’t our fault. That we hadn’t asked for it or deserved it. Even now, two years later, I was working on believing that.
“Shhhh, you don’t have to explain.” He pulled away from me and cradled my face in both of his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.
“I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.” The words slipped from my lips, exposing my deepest fear by sharing this part of me with someone else. That they wouldn’t want to be with me because I was soiled.
Dirty.
Damaged.
The fear that I would be viewed in the exact way I felt after a piece of my dignity and soul were stolen from me.
“Hermosa? 1 ,” his voice was low as he tipped my chin up so I had to look at him, “that’s the furthest thing from what I want.” He leaned in and kissed my tear-stained cheek, sending a wash of warmth over my skin. It was hot and humid outside but every piece of me felt cold and frozen.
“I think about you every day and I miss you as soon as you’re gone. I would spend every minute of every day with you if you’d let me. Knowing this about you doesn’t change any of that.” He was speaking into my hair as he had pulled me into a hug, his arms keeping me safe as they hung onto me. “If anything, knowing this about you makes me care about you even more. You are so strong, Bailey, stronger than I even knew. Thank you for sharing this with me.” I couldn’t help but laugh because no one had ever thanked me for telling them about my attack. Leave it to Hank to continue to be a gentleman, even when talking about this.
“Thank you for letting me share. There aren’t many people who I tell about this, but something about you makes me feel safe. Like I can share anything with you.” I burrowed my nose into his neck and breathed him in.
“Can I ask you one thing?”
“Of course,” I pulled away from him so I could wipe my eyes. We sat facing one another on the blanket and were so close that our knees were touching. He held my hands in his like a lifeline.
“Did they catch the guy? What happened to him?” His eyes were filled with concern. As I studied them closer, I saw something in them I hadn’t seen in them before.
Anger.
I bit my lip before speaking, knowing that my answer wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear.
“I don’t know what happened to him. Once he was done with me he ran off. He was wearing a hoodie and it was dark so I couldn’t see his face. I filed a police report but nothing ever came from it. Ophelia, my roommate, was the one who convinced me to file it even though I knew there wasn’t much the police could do if I couldn’t identify who attacked me.”
Flashes of that night came back to me as I spoke. How the stranger had left me on the ground, my dress pushed up and my tights ripped. How I walked home in a haze, not even bothering to get my stuff from inside the event hall. How, after hiding in my apartment for three full days, Ophelia came pounding on the door and wouldn’t leave until I let her in. When she saw me for the first time, covered in bruises and dried blood as I was still in a state of shock, she forced me to go to the police station. I’ll never forget how her hand trembled in mine as she sat next to me and I told the officer what happened. How her eyes filled with tears as my own slid down my face. The words of the county doctor still ring out in my head from time to time, ‘It’s a good thing you haven’t showered, we might actually get some evidence even though it’s been a few days. You’re very lucky.’
I didn’t feel very lucky.
“Hey.” The warmth of his voice and his calloused hand on my cheek pulled me back to the present. “You wanna get out of here? Let’s go back to my place, I’ll give you something to change into and we can just hangout. What do you think?”
I searched his face to see if I could see any difference in how he looked at me now that he knew my secret. His brown eyes burned just as bright as they did before and his smile made me feel just as safe. My fear of him seeing me any differently after knowing what had happened to me was slowly being replaced by a sense of safety and comfort.
He didn’t think I was damaged or broken.
He just wanted to make me feel safe.
“I think I’d like that very much, soldier.”
1 ? Beautiful