30. Phoebe
30
PHOEBE
I cannot believe this. Believe him. Believe me.
Come on Phoebs… it will be fun. You know you want to.
The memory fills my head. Todd’s voice. Needling yet sounding sincere. I was a fool. Why did I trust him?
Vapas’ arms become rocks, anchoring, and making me feel safe. And from this island of safety he creates, I can stop holding back and ignoring the past. It floods through like a rising tide, which I’ve only seen in old Earth vids. Memories like waves that crash against the rock that is him.
Todd manipulated and used me. He made me feel less. Yes, it was subtle and yes, it was wrong, but also, I went along. I never said no. I could have, but I was so scared he’d leave me. And I so desperately didn’t want to be alone.
He had my heart but that was never enough, not for him. He wanted my soul. And when it went too far, when I couldn’t take it anymore, he took what he wanted without hesitation.
It doesn’t matter that I didn’t say no. I tried to, but he kept twisting my words, twisting what I said to suit him. Gaslighting me. Saying I did things I didn’t do. Manipulating my emotions. Then when he was done using me, taking all I had to give, he left.
I see it, now, in a way I never could before. All this time I felt I was wrong. I was the one who didn’t do enough for him, couldn’t make myself okay with all his perverse needs and desires. But it wasn’t me. It was him.
I should never have gone along with any of it. That was my mistake. Thinking my love for him made it okay. That it would all work out because we really loved one another. That he loved me every bit as much as I did him.
I believed. Even after he left, I held onto hope. Hope that he would come back. That all I had given him and all he had said to me wasn’t a lie. Leaving me stuck in this headspace where now I can’t give or receive the love that I desperately want.
Yes. I can. The past is over.
My tears run dry and I’m here. Safe, or as safe as I can be. What Vapas just did, pulling back when he was right there, again. His strength of will, it speaks volumes as to the man he is. And that man is the one I thought he was.
The kind of man I deserve.
“Vapas,” I say, easing my death grip on his waist and drying my eyes.
He runs his hands through my hair and when I look into his face, all I see is love. My heart skips and then it feels as if my chest will explode.
“Yes?” he whispers, his voice soft.
“I am sorry,” I say. He opens his mouth and I know he’s going to protest. He doesn’t have to say the words because I know him and I know what they will be. Before he can I place my finger on his lips. “No. Listen. Please.”
He nods solemnly. I step out of his arms and walk over to my chair at the table. Looking around I spot the bottle of alcohol and the mugs. They lie halfway across the room where they rolled after he flung them off the table. I smile and go to retrieve them.
The bottle remains intact but one of the mugs has a new chip. Shrugging, I carry them to the table. Vapas remains where he was, watching in an easy, unexpectant silence.
After pouring some into both mugs, I motion to his chair, inviting him to sit. He does so without breaking the moment. I need to tell him. Talk this out and hope he will understand.
He will. I know he will. That’s who he is. The man I deserve.
“I was with a man, he was my…” I trail off because there isn’t a word for fiancé in Zmaj. “My intended?”
“Your mate?” he asks.
“Yes and no,” I say. “He was, but we weren’t… committed. Humans are different than Zmaj and… well, I think Urr’ki. I don’t know but your dragoste seems very similar to their ‘treasure’.”
He grunts shaking his head.
“They are nothing alike. Zmaj,” he spits the name, “you do not own your dragoste. She is your partner, your heart, but she is her own. Treasure. Bah.”
My smile spreads so wide it makes my cheeks hurt.
“I never thought of it that way.”
He shrugs, shakes his head.
“Zmaj are stupid,” he says. “They know nothing.”
I’m not going to argue the point with him. The entire reason the other girls and I were sent here was to better understand Urr’ki culture. Our human leader, Rosalind, is looking for common ground between them and the Zmaj. All in a hopefully not vain attempt to stop the coming war.
“We humans… we don’t have dragoste,” I say. “Well, we do, sort of, but it’s more of a fable, or so I always believed. We did have rituals though, around a couple coming together.”
“Rituals are good. They tie you to the past while creating the future.”
I frown, thinking that through. It’s not something I’d really thought about. Even calling dating and engagement and marriage rituals now only occurred to me because I don’t know any Zmaj word that encompasses the concepts without adding in other meanings.
“Perhaps,” I muse. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
He nods sagely.
“This is known.”
“I will take your word for it,” I tell him with a smile. If nothing else, all the back and forth in getting my story told is making it seem less… bad? The conversation, and more than that the connection we share, makes this terrible thing that happened to me seem more like it happened to someone else. I’m definitely not the same person I was then.
He reaches across the table and clasps my hand between both of his. Staring into my eyes he leans closer.
“I am sorry,” he says. “This is your story. I do not mean to interrupt.”
“I—” can’t say more, choking on the emotions that swell my throat and make my heart beat faster.
I close my eyes, take a breath, and then exhale slowly before I open them again. My sight is blurry with tears, again. Right there, with one sentence, he sets himself apart from every man I’ve ever known. I have never felt anything like what I’m feeling for him before.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, nodding emphatically. “Better than okay. Truly.”
“Good,” he says, patting my hand. “That is my heart’s truest desire.”
“Ah, good grief, stop,” I say, unable to hold back my tears.
“What? I am sorry,” he pulls back. “I do not mean to offend. Please…”
“No, not offend,” I say, laughing and trying to dry my tears on my sleeve. “Just… you’re too damn good. How the hell can you be so perfect?”
“I am far from perfect,” he says.
“Are you? How?” I ask.
He frowns deeply, looks around the room, and then meets my gaze.
“I often have gas,” he says quietly.
“You what?” I ask, in shock at the unexpectedness of the answer.
He shrugs and his skin lightens which I’m pretty sure is the Urr’ki equivalent of blushing. I burst into laughter and he looks mortified.
“It is true,” he says, hanging his head. “I have many faults, Phoebe. But, I swear to you, I will always try to be better. Anything I do or say that bothers you, tell me. I will strive to be the best I can be. For you. You make me want to be better.”
The sincerity with which he speaks penetrates, tearing down any remnants of walls that I had left. I want him to know everything about me and to know everything about him.
“Vapas, I promise,” I say. “I will always be honest with you.”
“Good,” he says. “I ask no more. But your story. Please, tell me.”
It seems, not pointless, but as if all the weight of it is gone. Still, I started down this path and how can I do less then give him the truth?
So I do. I tell him all about Todd. How he manipulated and used me. Got me to do things that while I never said no, I didn’t want to do. Things that compromised my sense of self-worth. How he used sex more as a weapon than as something for pleasure.
Vapas listens intently. He doesn’t speak except for the occasional growl and spasm of his hands tightening over mine. When I finish he sits in silence, staring intently. With any other person at any other time, it would be uncomfortable. I would think I’d said too much, been too honest, or too raw. But not with Vapas.
“Phoebe,” he says, soft and gentle in tone, “you are strong. You have endured much. I swear to you. I will do all in my power to protect you. You will never know such pain again. You will never be used like that again. And if ever I find this… Todd…” he spits his name, “he will regret everything he ever did.”
I swallow hard, trying to get the lump in my throat to go down. Tears swell, but they are ones of relief. I mouth words, unable to make the sounds, but he gets it. He gets out of his chair and gathers me into his arms, holding me tight.
Then someone shouts outside the hovel door.