14. Heals Something
14
Heals Something
Trevor
This is going to drive me insane.
I swear, I’m thisclose to hiring a private investigator to figure who the fuck it was who… raped Chelsea.
The word makes me want to vomit, but if Chelsea has learned to stomach it, I will too.
I reread the texts from my buddy BK—Blake Klein—one of the few on the team I trusted, mostly because he was like me. Down to earth. Cares about his family. And he had the same girlfriend all through college. They met at freshman orientation and fell for each other. There were a couple of other guys on the team who were similar, and they were the ones I gravitated toward. Sure, I was friendly with most of the guys because that’s how you make a team work. Being fuckheads to each other only destroys the team morale and ability to trust each other and play well together. I let shit slide—playing girls or talking about them in the locker room—when maybe I shouldn’t have for the supposed wellbeing of the team.
Look where it got me. Most of them stopped speaking to me after my accident. Like I never existed. Poof. Ghosted. Not that I cared—about most of them at least. The only one that actually hurt was my roommate freshman and sophomore year—until I left—DJ. I thought we were good friends, but he was the first to fuck off out of my life after my accident. But maybe these texts from Klein explain why.
BK: I’ve been poking around the team, trying to find out any dirt I can, but I’ve come up empty. I’ve even discreetly mentioned it to a few of the gossipy ball bunnies, but no one has heard anything.
BK: I guess it could’ve been a senior from last year and it get swept under the rug or pushed to the side. Which would be extremely fucked, but D1 sports have done worse in the past. Aside from asking Coach, I don’t have any ideas. I won’t do that, though. It might push things too far.
BK: Unless you want me to.
Me: No. If it was swept under the rug, he’d have to have known, which makes me sick to think about. A grown man protecting a rapist. Fuck that. I appreciate you looking into this for me, though. There’s every chance the police never looked into it. You should see the statistics on how frequently cases like this are blown off by police departments.
BK: That’s some serious fuckery. If someone had done that to Sasha… nah. I can’t even think about it.
Me: Believe me, I understand. Again, I appreciate you checking it out.
BK: No prob. I’ll keep my ears open in case I hear anything.
Me: Thanks. So… how’s the team this year?
I’ve purposely stayed away from any info about it. Not that there are any games yet, but I don’t keep up on social media with any of the guys on the team. If we don’t text, I don’t know about it.
BK: Shitshow. So many newbies who need to be broken in. Oh, and get this shit. Guess who tried out for your spot on the team?
Me: Who?
BK: None other than your former roommate.
Me: DJ? Seriously? Did he get it?
BK: LMAO no. Coach offered him a second-string center field position. Dude couldn’t play well on the team if he tried. He declined the offer, then bitched about it for a month. I don’t even know why he still hangs out with all of us. I thought it was because of you, but he’s held on like a stage 4 clinger.
Me: Wow. And really? You’re going to hate on clingers? Isn’t that how you got your girl?
BK: Shots fired. Damn. And we’re both clingy, thank you. Maybe a little co-dependent, but whatever. We’re happy. I’m actually starting to think about proposing.
Me: That’s awesome, man. Wish you the best.
BK: Back at you. Let me know if you’re around Cuse and we can get together.
Me: Sounds good. Later.
BK: Later.
With a sigh, I flick my phone screen off and stare up at Chelsea’s building. I wish I could solve this for her. Fix it. I know I can’t retroactively protect her, but I want to. My mind wanders, and I wonder what could’ve been if Chels and I had met at freshman orientation like BK and his girl. Maybe neither of us would’ve ended up here. Maybe neither of us would have gone through hell over the last year.
I snap myself out of that useless train of thought.
I wish I could’ve been with her longer, protected her from everything she went through, but I’m grateful to have her now. She’s stolen my heart in a way I never could’ve expected, and it’s forcing me to face some of the trauma and hurt I’ve buried deep inside for years, but if that’s the price of falling for a goddess of a woman like her, I’ll pay it over and over again.
With my frustration fading, I get out of my car, ready to see my girl. She’s done nothing but text me flirty things since last night, and I get the sense she might want to play a little today. I don’t know what to expect, but I’m here for whatever she wants to give me.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and head up to her apartment. I walk in without knocking because we’re officially at that place now, but the first thing I hear is Chelsea grumbling. I find her pacing the small kitchen, tapping furiously on her phone before dropping it roughly on the counter while muttering something under her breath.
I set my bag down, then walk over and wrap my arms around her. “Okay, who hurt you, and where can I find them?”
She laughs and loops her arms around my neck. “I love when you say sexy things like that.”
I quickly kiss her, then reach over and tap her phone with my pointer. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
She sighs and unlocks the phone, then slides it into my hand.
“Had a lovely conversation with my supposed friends back home, and I’m just… mad. I’m mad at them. I’m mad at myself.” She waves a hand. “Just read it.”
Apparently, it’s a bad night for texting.
I scan the texts and my blood pressure immediately rises.
Bridget: Tell me you’re coming to my EPIC 21st birthday party. I just saw you RSVP’d as maybe. Maybe you’ll come to the hottest party of our lives?
Chelsea: I’m sorry. I have a friend’s wedding to go to this weekend.
Bridget: Since when do you have other friends?
Lex: I think you mean why does she NEED other friends?
Chelsea: There’s no such thing as too many friends. I’ve made some great ones here, and I already agreed to go to their wedding.
Bridget: Ugh. Are these your boyfriend’s friends?
Chelsea: They’re my friends. Anyway, I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I hope it’s amazing.
Bridget: Well, duh. All my parties are. You’re the one missing out on all the fun.
Lex: Chelsea doesn’t like to have fun anymore, remember?
When I set the phone down, Chelsea throws her hands up and starts pacing again.
“I responded maybe because I was going to see how the timing worked out with the wedding, in case I’d have time to stop by, but after all that, I don’t even want to. I want to respond no, I don’t like having their kind of fun anymore, since their kind of fun involves getting shit-faced. Like I want to drink and party after a guy drugged my drink at a fucking party. Which they have never been able to understand! And that just makes me mad at myself because I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t freaking care.”
She yells in the direction of the phone, and again, I pull her into my arms.
“How long have you been friends with them?”
She snorts at that. “Most of my life.”
“So you have a lot of memories with them?”
She nods against my shoulder. “Yeah. Some really great ones.”
“It’s okay to have mixed feelings about that. I’ve been through similar stuff with my childhood best friend, and I haven’t cut him out. I’ve distanced myself, but he hasn’t even noticed we’re not as close anymore. Some people struggle to see outside of their own selfish wants and needs. That’s no excuse, but it’s understandable why it’s hard for us to shut down a lifetime of memories. It’s okay for you to take your time and figure it out. It’s also okay to yell at them if you want to. Or be honest about your feelings.”
She laughs weakly. “Here I was expecting you to tell me to cut them out or tell them to fuck off because they’re not really my friends.”
That makes me laugh. “I get how complicated it is. But for the record, no, they don’t seem worthy of your friendship or seem like good friends to you. You were the one to remind me I can’t make anyone else’s decisions for them. I’m not always great at that, but I’m trying to do better. That said, if I meet them at any point, I will be pleasant, but I won’t be patient. If they say that shit in front of me, I won’t hold my tongue. Because seeing you hurt sets off the irrationally angry and ferally protective side of me. I’ll cut a bitch—with words, unless you’re physically threatened.”
Her smile is bright as she presses onto her toes to kiss me. “There you go, saying sexy things again.” She shakes her head and shoves her phone away. “Enough of all that. It’s taking away from the surprise I have for you.”
“You have my attention.”
“Good,” she purrs, grabbing my hand. “Come with me.” She leads me down the hall to the bedroom.
“Bedroom surprises?”
She shuts the door behind us, then leads me over to the bed and pushes me onto it.
“Consider it a late birthday gift.” She pulls a box from the bottom of her nightstand and sets it on my lap. “Open.”
My brows lift, but I don’t say anything. I have no idea what to expect. She climbs onto the bed next to me and watches as I lift the top and lift some tissue paper out of the way.
Oh. Oh, damn.
Staring back at me is a Fleshlight.
“Chels, what…”
“So, when we were down in New York City, a few of us stopped by an adult store and picked things out. I have plenty of toys, but I bought this for you.” Her lips press into my neck, her breath tickling my skin when she speaks again. “You have been so patient with me, and I want you to have something special to take care of yourself with. I hate how many times you’ve walked out of here with a hard-on.”
“While I appreciate this, and it looks fun, my cock is not your responsibility. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“And this will help you do it.”
She kisses up my neck and across my cheek, turning my head so my lips meet hers.
My cock presses against the zipper of my jeans, way too excited by this turn of events.
“What do you want me to do with it?”
“Use it.” She leans over and pulls something from the drawer. “While I use this.”
She holds up a vibrator, and I pull her onto my lap, my hands skating up her back as our lips collide in rough kisses.
She pushes me back, so I’m lying flat, and meets my eyes. “I’m ready to be naked with you. Like this. And maybe for you to touch me a little.”
I push past the urge to ask if she’s sure. Only she can decide that. I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to undermine her.
“Then I’m yours.”
She gives me another hard kiss. Then it’s a frantic race to get our clothes off. Get naked.
We’ve seen each other—held each other—like this before. But it’s never been moving toward sex.
There’s a flash in her eyes, the briefest hint of hesitance, but she quickly pushes it away, her eyes drifting over my body. Then there’s a different flare in her eyes. Lust. But instead of flitting away, it burns deeper, until we’re side by side on the bed.
She adds some lube to the toy for me, then hands it and the lube to me.
She watches raptly as I squirt some into my hand and stroke my cock a few times.
“Mm. It’s hard not to touch.”
“You can if you want.”
She shakes her head. “Not yet.”
But as if in consolation, she leans over and kisses me, then drags her lips across my neck as I line up the toy.
She flicks her tongue against my earlobe, then rolls back, lying half on her side as she watches me slowly push the toy down my length.
It holds my cock so tightly, I almost come when I’m halfway in. Plus, Chelsea put so much lube in. Once I’m fully seated in it, I have to hold it in place for a minute, letting myself adjust.
“Holy shit. That is so hot.” Chelsea bites her lip and slips her hand between her legs.
“Back at you.” My voice is gravelly and thick, and the haze is already settling in. I turn to her and watch, then slowly slide the Fleshlight up before pulling it back down.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
My abs tighten and I break out in a sweat.
What the fuck is this thing?
It doesn’t feel as good as a pussy. Nothing feels like that, especially when an emotional connection is added in. But this is a damn good replacement for a hand job.
Even better when I’m watching Chelsea pinch her nipples and fuck herself with her fingers.
“Are you okay, baby?” I whisper, cautiously moving the toy faster.
“I’m perfect. Keep going. Watching you keeps me out of my head.”
Her words snap the tether of my control, and I buck into the toy, working it hard and fast over my cock.
It’s so good. So tight.
I keep my eyes on her, gripping the sheet with my other hand.
Even though I’m getting myself off—with some help from a toy—I feel completely out of control.
“Faster,” Chelsea whispers.
So, I move faster. I’m not used to it. Normally, I’m the one in control. The one giving orders. The one with my hand twisted in a girl’s hair and owning her body. But right now, I’m at Chelsea’s mercy, and that… is a turn-on I wasn’t expecting.
“Keep going, Trev. You’re doing so good. I want to see you come again, then I want you to watch while I come, screaming your name.”
Fuck.
“Chels… I’m—” I can’t get the words out before pure pleasure ripples through me. I claw at the sheets, my orgasm ripping me to shreds. Black clouds my vision as I collapse against the bed, slowly pulling the toy off as my cock pulses one last time.
Chelsea’s whine and the low hum of a vibrator are the only things that pull me back to the moment.
I set the toy on the bed, rolling onto my side as I watch her. Her beautiful face is already slack with pleasure. She reaches to pinch her nipples with her free hand, but I grab her hand before she gets there.
“Can I do that?”
Her gaze snaps to mine, then she relaxes and smiles.
“Yes.”
“Fingers or mouth?”
A groan.
“Both.”
I don’t wait for any further invitation. Diving forward, I capture one of her nipples in my mouth, while stroking my hand over her neck, down her chest, then cupping her heavy breast and massaging it. With my other hand, I tweak her other nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger while I palm her breast.
“Yes. Just like that,” she hisses.
When I casually graze her nipple with my teeth, she arches off the bed and her free hand tangles in my curls, holding them tightly as she rides the vibrator.
“Trevor… fuck…”
I lift my eyes to her gorgeous face, just in time to see her lips part and her head drop back.
Her body spasms as she moans, going higher and higher, her breaths growing shallow as she comes undone.
Slowly, her body melts into the bed and she pulls the vibrator away, one last aftershock pulsing through her.
“Oh my god. That was amazing.”
I run my lips up her chest and over her neck. “You’re beautiful like this. Skin flushed. Splayed out and completely comfortable in your body. Fucking stunning.”
Her hand, still tangled in my hair, drags me to her lips again.
“As usual, you’re more eloquent than me. I just wanted to say you were hot as fuck.”
I laugh at that, but she bites down on my lip, then I’m halfway on top of her, kissing her like I’ll never get enough. Because I don’t think I will. I’m a complete goner for this girl.
“Mm, I’m already looking forward to doing that again. And again.” She peppers kisses across my cheek. “You might want to leave the toy here.”
Arching a brow, I flash her my most troublemaking smile. “Liked it that much?”
“Every second. Plus, I have a high sex drive.” She pats my cheek as she moves to sit up. “I hope you can keep up with me.”
“Sounds like a challenge I’m definitely up for.”
“We’ll see just how up you are.”
We both laugh at that. Seeing her playful side come out more and more is one of my favorite things.
I was worried she’d be uncomfortable with dirty talk, but she likes to play as much as I do. And while it may take time for her to be ready to try different things in the bedroom, the trust we build with each new experience makes it even hotter. Going slow like this is totally underrated, but I’m loving it. Our relationship is deepening in time with our sex lives, and there’s something to be said for how the connection grows in both ways at once.
“Shower?” Chelsea asks.
I smile as I sit up. “Definitely.”
I’ll never say no to more intimacy with my girl. More building of the trust—safety—between us.
I can’t take away what she’s been through, but I can make sure she never feels anything but safe, worshipped, respected, and… that other word. The one neither of us has mustered yet, but that we both seem to be feeling.
I’ll give her all that and more for as long as she lets me.
Then a thought trickles through my brain that almost makes me stop moving.
Forever would be fine .
It’s scary as fuck, but it would be.
Forever would be fine with me.
Chelsea
Mornings at Promise are one of my favorite things. Sunday mornings tend to have that calm, soulful quiet about them that brings me peace. Of course, at some point someone will come in—not a guarantee, but a likelihood.
It’s barely been two months of working here, but I’ve learned a lot. Rae has been an incredible leader, and my boss, Kristen, is warm and supportive. She seems to see the same things in me that she sees in Rae, because she’s put me on somewhat of an accelerated track as well.
Rae and I have been talking about creating a Promise support group on campus, and Kristen contacted the campus counseling center about working with them to host it. They said they’d be happy to have a counselor available or we could just use their space to run it. Kristen essentially put Rae and me in charge of it all.
I’m not complaining because any way we can reach more women is a good thing. The more women we reach, the more we can help find their way out of the darkness. And that’s only part of what the support groups do. They also help women feel less alone and heal, while building strong friendships and support systems. Empowered women empower other women.
I wish Bridget and Lex understood that.
The only response I managed to their texts last night was to reiterate that I’m sorry to miss the party, and tell Bridget I wish her the best birthday. Neither of them responded.
Fine by me. Amanda, Rae, Hyla, and the rest of the girls have shown me what true friendship means, and I refuse to settle for less. I don’t intend to cut Bridget and Lex out of my life, but I won’t keep trying to maintain a friendship with them that only hurts me.
Especially not when I have so much good in my life.
I’m enjoying school, I love Old Lake Town, I’m making great friends, and of course, there’s Trevor.
Trevor, who has spent every night at my apartment since Thursday, when I gave him that toy. The orgasms since then have been countless, and with each one, I let him explore a little more. I haven’t let him touch between my legs yet, but I’ll get there. I’ve gotten more comfortable touching him, too.
I’m just… happy. I like the direction my life is headed in, and I’m hopeful in a way I’d forgotten how to be for a while.
After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I finish working on some social media graphics and then go to the document of outreach ideas and start reading through it. I only have about an hour left here, then—for once—I plan to spend most of the day alone. I’ll probably have dinner with Robbie, but Trevor and I agreed it’s best for him to not spend every night at my apartment. As fun as it is, we want this to keep growing naturally and not lose important pieces of ourselves along the way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone on the camera—a girl around my age—at the front door. She pushes the button that goes to our security office, then the front door buzzes open. The outside door is locked for safety, and the security guards are the ones who unlock the door after someone pushes the doorbell outside.
Once they come in, there’s a small entrance area before the glass door that opens into the reception area of Promise. I glance at the other screen and watch the girl hover by the door for a minute.
There’s a swish of nerves in my stomach. This is my first time being out front alone when someone has come in, and even though I’ve done this with Rae or Kristen or one of the counselors by my side, I’m still nervous. I want to get this right.
I suck in a breath and look back at the screen. She’s still standing there, uncertain. I debate getting up and going over to the door, but as someone who has been through it, I know it’s a decision she has to make for herself. If she’s not ready yet, that’s okay. We’ll be here when she is.
She looks back at the outer door again, then finally pushes herself forward and opens the glass door. My stomach twists with anticipation and anxiousness.
When she finally steps all the way inside, I stand.
Her eyes dart to me and she swallows hard.
“Hi. I’m Chelsea.”
She looks around the space, and I slowly make my way around the counter.
“Do you want to tell me why you came in here today?” I ask, my voice calm despite my insides roiling. But there’s something inside me propelling me forward. An innate protective instinct. I want to help. I want her to know she’s safe.
She bites her lip and tears well in her eyes.
“Let’s sit.” I gesture toward a small table in the corner, and she follows me over to it.
I grab a cup of water from the nearby cooler and set it on the table, which already has a box of tissues on it.
“Do you want to tell me your name?”
“Chloe.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Chloe. If you want to talk, we can, or we can just sit. Either way, I want you to know you’re safe.” My voice almost breaks, but I keep it together.
There’s a phone on the table in case I need to call one of the counselors out, though I’m sure one is monitoring the camera feed for this room. It’s how they know if someone else needs to come out here, and if no one else is, it’s how they keep an eye on the interns. We go through some online training before we start here, but overall, we’re tossed in the deep end. I think that’s mostly because we’ve been there and we’re all studying counseling, so we have a frame of reference. A lot of this job is learning as we go, and as our counseling coursework picks up, we’ll sit in with the counselors more.
Out front, the job is to calm, diffuse, make sure they know it’s a safe space, and offer options.
“I need help,” she finally says.
“Then you’re in the right place. If you want to tell me more, I can direct you to the right help.”
Tears slip down her cheeks.
“I—I—my tutor…” That’s all she gets out before choking back a sob.
Watching for her reaction, I rest my hand on her arm. When she doesn’t flinch, I let the weight of my palm settle there.
“Take your time. There’s no rush. This is a safe space.”
She takes in a shuddery breath, then starts again, relaying her story through choppy breaths and broken sobs. Her tutor decided he needed something in return for helping her, and when she didn’t want to give him what he wanted, he held her down and took it.
Hearing her say the words sends a wave of nausea through my stomach and chills up my spine. And anger. I’m coursing with violent, reckless anger.
Then she starts to do what every rape or assault victim does and blame herself.
Under the table, I curl my hand into a fist, my fingernails digging into the skin.
“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
She looks at me with big eyes. “I—”
And then the words I needed to hear for so long—the ones I still have to repeat to myself every day—pour out.
“You feel ashamed right now, but you shouldn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. I know the weight of that shame is heavy, but it isn’t yours to carry. Only one person deserves that. Him. You deserve love and support and peace.” I slide my chair over and wrap an arm around her back. “We can help. If you want to talk to someone, we have counselors available right now, and we have a nurse practitioner available to give you an exam. We can also contact law enforcement if you want us to, but we don’t have to. Just know you’re not alone. You’ve already done something amazing for yourself by coming here. We’ll help.”
She sniffs and lifts her head, her puffy, red eyes meeting mine. And realization hits her. Ugly, horrible realization.
“Were you—”
“My story shares some similarities with yours. That’s why I can tell you you’re in the right place. I wish I would’ve had somewhere like this. You did the right thing coming here.”
“When did it happen to you?”
“Almost a year ago.”
She stares at me for a moment. “And you’re okay now?”
“Still healing, but I’ve come a long way. You will too.”
The relief and hope shimmering in her eyes heals one of the cracks in my soul.
“Th—thank you. I think I want an exam.”
One of the counselor’s voices floats from the other side of the room. “I can take you back to the nurse practitioner whenever you’re ready. Is there anyone we can call for you? A family member or a friend?”
“My aunt,” she whispers, pushing out of her chair. “I didn’t know how to tell her.”
The counselor extends an arm. “We can take care of it if you give us her phone number.”
Chloe nods and lets the counselor lead her down the hall, but then she stops and turns back, taking a few steps toward me again.
“Thank you.” Her words hold so much weight they nearly crush me, but I keep my emotions back.
“You’re welcome. I’m here if you need anything else.”
“Thanks,” she whispers, then follows the counselor down the hall to where the nurse practitioner is waiting.
I stand there for a moment, a thousand emotions rolling through me.
Then a thought catches me off guard.
I want to call Trevor. I want to tell him everything that just happened.
But as I turn back to the desk, I’m surprised to see Rae standing here.
“If I hadn’t been to that swanky lake house, I’d ask if you live here.”
She laughs and sets her bag down. “I’m picking up extra shifts since I’ll be out for my honeymoon.”
“Makes sense.”
“How are you feeling? I caught the end of that. I waited in the entryway so I wouldn’t disturb you.”
“I was nervous,” I admit. “I didn’t want to screw it up. I was hoping someone was watching on the camera just in case.”
“From what I saw, you handled it well. Most of the time, no one wants to interrupt. We all know how important the first time solo is.”
“More important than I realized. I thought most of my heavy emotions would be tapered since I’ve assisted you and Kristen before, but today… I felt like I made a difference.” I blow out a shaky breath. “I wish I would’ve had that after what I went through. It almost felt like I was talking to myself. Then seeing the recognition and relief on her face that she wasn’t alone…” I blink back tears and watch Rae wipe her eyes.
“It’s the best and worst thing,” she murmurs. “You hate that anyone else has been through it, but it’s a relief to know someone else understands.” Rae grabs my hand. “You okay?”
I nod and sniff. “Yeah. As hard as it was, it reaffirmed for me that I’m exactly where I want to be. I want to make a difference, and I know I just did.”
“I had that moment too. The very first time when you know you helped change something for someone. It doesn’t take away what we’ve been through, but—”
“It heals something.”
“Exactly.”
She pulls me into a hug.
After a long squeeze, we separate, both wiping our eyes. It’s crazy how this can both hurt and heal. The healing is so much stronger.
“You should get out of here,” Rae says. “You’ve only got a few minutes left. Grab your stuff and head home. You deserve it.”
I give her a big smile. “Thanks.”
With that, I head to the back room and collect my stuff, but when I leave, it’s not with any intention of going home.
I get in my car and head straight for the lake house.
When I get there, I’m halfway to the front door before I realize what I’m actually doing. I’ve never just shown up here. They don’t seem like the type to be uncomfortable with me stopping by, but… do I knock? Text Trevor?
There are a bunch of cars in the driveway, so I go for a knock while opening the door approach.
“Hello?”
“Hey!” Amanda says, face lighting up when she sees me. She’s in workout clothes with her hair pulled back, and she looks absolutely radiant.
She hurries over and gives me a quick hug.
“I didn’t know you were coming over today.”
I shrug. “Just wanted to stop and say hi to Trevor quick if he’s around.”
She nods. “In his room. You two are adorable. Okay, I’m off to work out. If I don’t see you before you leave, then I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
She blows me a kiss as she walks out of the room.
Feeling a bit more at ease, I head upstairs to Trevor’s room, then knock on the door.
“It’s open,” he calls.
When I open the door and he sees me, he jumps off his bed wearing a massive smile. “Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought you had Promise today.”
“I do—did. But… that’s why I’m here.”
“Everything okay?”
I throw my arms around his neck and look up at him. “Yeah. I had a kind of amazing morning. When I started at Promise, I didn’t know exactly how it would feel to work there. To help others when my own stuff is still healing, but this girl who came in today… she needed to know she wasn’t alone, and I think I needed it too. Logically, I’ve known that. But saying it to someone who has lived a story way too close to mine made it hit in a different way.” Tears well in my eyes. “The relief on her face when she realized she wasn’t alone and she was safe—that there was still a light for her to walk toward—I think it healed a part of my soul.”
He pulls me tight to him. “Babe, that’s amazing.”
“It is. It meant so much more to me than I could’ve anticipated. When I was finished helping her, my first thought was that I wanted to tell you. I know I’ve said it before, in passing, at least, but you’re my person. You’re the one I want to run to when I’m struggling and the person I can’t wait to celebrate with when something good happens. I know we said we’d make sure we still took time away from each other—didn’t get too caught up—but I had to come here and tell you all that.”
He leans back, then kisses my forehead, running his fingers through my hair.
“I’ll never complain about that. We both have separate interests, and we’ll make a point not to spend every night together, but I wouldn’t mind seeing you every day. Stay for lunch? We always have sandwich stuff in the fridge, and I make a heck of a turkey club.”
“That sounds perfect. I—”
Oh . Holy crap. What was I—I almost just told him. Holy freaking fudge balls. I’ve been feeling the thrum of it somewhere deep inside me. But it was all shrouded in uncertainty. In me not being sure if it was true. Now, it’s irrefutable. I’m in love with Trevor Matteny.
“I’d love to spend the afternoon with you,” I choke out.
Trevor smiles at me so big it almost hurts, and I see it in his eyes. This isn’t one-sided. We’re falling into something wild and beautiful, and I can’t wait to see where it takes us.
He wraps his hand around the side of my neck and presses his lips to mine. In a second, I’m lost to him and all those swirly, twirly, butterflies-in-my-stomach feelings. Things I’d been too broken over the last year to even hope for again, but standing in his arms now, I know this is where I’m meant to be. After all I’ve been through, I’m stupidly happy. Thanks for showing up for me now, karma. It’s about time I get to enter my happiness era.