10. Gwen
CHAPTER 10
GWEN
T he sea slowly swallows me, the icy water creeping over my face until every inch of me lies below the surface. My limbs are paralyzed with fear and won’t budge, no matter how hard I try to make them move. The darkness closes in around me as I sink deeper into the murky depths. My chest burns with the need to draw in a breath. Images of my family flash through my mind rapid-fire before I feel myself losing consciousness. Silas’s reassuring smile is the last thing I see before I surrender.
I shoot up in my bed, a gasp fleeing my lips, and place my hand on my chest. My heart beats like a jackhammer under my palm as I drag in a long breath and then slowly exhale through my mouth. A shiver of fear tips its toes down my spine, vibrating my entire torso.
Jesus, that felt so real.
I’d be less surprised if my pajamas were soaking wet than I am by them being completely dry. Leaning over, I flick on the nightstand lamp, then scoot down under the covers. Settling on my back, I stare up at the white ceiling where the trees outside my window cast shadows. I focus on the gentle swaying motion, hoping to calm myself. The nightmare brought on a feeling of gloom I can’t seem to shake. Looks like that’s the end of my sleep tonight.
We sit down at the picnic table and place our iced coffees on the splintered wooden surface. “I’m so glad you called me. I needed to get out of the house. My mom has been driving me crazy, having me run errands for her and doing stuff around the house. How does she manage when I’m away at school?” Demi asks.
“Maybe she’s taking advantage of your help while she can. But I agree, it’s a difficult adjustment to be on your own during the school year and then return home. I’m feeling it too. I’m sure it would be worse if I hadn’t been purposely taking it easy, though. I have a built-in excuse to stay in my room.” I raise my cup and take a long sip from the blue straw.
“Probably not for much longer, though. It’s been a couple weeks since you got home. I bet your dad will catch on sooner or later.”
“I think he already has and is just trying to be patient with me. I’m sure Maeve has had her hands full trying to soothe his concerns about me.”
Demi smirks, and I brace myself for her reply. “I bet Maeve has had her hands full. Wink. Wink.”
I roll my eyes, and she snickers. Setting the moisture-slicked cup down, I wipe my hands on the skirt of my sundress.
“Have you thought about going to see Silas again?” Demi asks.
Yes. “No.”
Her mouth spreads into a knowing smile. “You little liar.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
A laugh sputters from her. “That’s bullshit. I know you want to see him again.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You brought him a thank you gift.”
“Yeah, he deserved something after helping us.”
“You could’ve mailed it to him. Or had something delivered. You didn’t have to stop by personally.”
“It seemed like the polite thing to do.”
“Especially when your hero is tall, dark, and handsome.”
“Don’t you mean, our hero?”
“He didn’t catch me when I fainted or carry me up the stairs to his office. Or gently place me on the couch as if I might break.”
“I don’t remember any of that anyway.”
“You can’t deny the tall, dark, and handsome part, though.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I open my mouth to change the subject, and she clears her throat, stopping me in my tracks. “He’s very attractive.” But even more importantly, he’s brave and kind. The world could use more men like him.
“You should pop in for a visit. In fact, we could take a ride over there on our way home.” Her wide-eyed expression may be as innocent as can be, but I know better.
“Oh, could we?” I droll.
“Sure. You can pretend we were in the area, getting milkshakes since you didn’t get to drink the last one,” she suggests, reminding me of the knife-wielding man. The pace of my heartbeat ratchets up, and I recognize the beginning of panic taking hold. I immediately draw a long, slow breath in through my nose and exhale from my mouth. I repeat the exercise four more times, and when I’m finished I notice Demi watching me.
“What was that about?”
“I went to a therapist and she gave me a breathing technique to stop a panic attack before it can take hold of me.”
“And it works?” she asks.
“I’m still conscious,” I say, shrugging.
“That’s awesome. I’m glad you found something that helps.”
“Yeah. If it continues working this well, it’ll be a godsend. The thought of passing out randomly is scary as fuck.”
“When did you go talk to her?”
“Last Friday. I have my second appointment later today. I haven’t told anyone else about seeking help.”
“You didn’t have to tell me either.”
“I wanted to. You’re my safe space right now.”
“Aww, you’re mine too.”
“If I tell my mom, she’s going to ask me a bunch of questions about what Dr. Gillis said. And if my dad knows, he’ll feel bad that he couldn’t help me himself.”
“Won’t he find out when he gets the insurance statement?” she asks.
“Nope. I’m paying cash for each visit to avoid that.”
“Ooh, tricky.”
“This might be the first time I haven’t been completely honest with my parents.” I’m not sure how I feel about that, but it’s the way it needs to be. At least for the time being.”
“You’re a grown woman. There’s no rule that says you have to share every detail of your life with your parents, and if you don’t that you’re being dishonest.”
“I know. But in some ways it feels like I’m harboring some dirty little secret.”
“No, you’re choosing to keep something extremely personal to yourself.”
“That’s true. I’m not a kid who has to answer to my parents for every little thing.”
“Nope. And they shouldn’t expect you to.”
“Hey, Demi!” an annoying voice squeals before the equally annoying person it belongs to appears beside the table— Gabriella Huntington. She was one of our classmates at Phillips Prep and the head football cheerleader. She’s also a wicked gossip and not the nicest person.
“Hi, Gabby,” Demi greets her with a flat affect.
Gabby’s gaze moves to my side of the table. “Gwen!”
“Hey, how are you?” I ask, forcing myself to be polite.
“I’m great. Brian and I are still going strong. In fact, we got engaged.” She shoves her hand in front of my face, causing me to react by leaning backward. The sudden movement shifts my hair so it’s no longer covering my cheek. Gabby lets out a horrified gasp. “Oh. My. God. What happened to your face?”
My hand goes to my cheek, shielding the scar from further view. “An accident,” I husk out in an emotion-clogged tone.
“Like a car accident?” she asks.
Demi shakes her head and raises her fist in the air. “No, like the accidental punch you’re going to get in your face if you don’t mind your business.”
Gabby’s mouth falls open, then snaps shut. “That’s rude.”
“I’ll tell you what’s really rude. Not seeing someone for two years and then acting like you have a right to know what’s going on in their life. Why don’t you go find someone else to bother with invasive questions.”
She darts off, her long, curly hair bouncing down her back.
“Ugh. I really dislike her,” Demi says, and I nod.
Tendrils of insecurity sprout inside me, filling my chest, and climb until I can’t swallow around the lump in my throat. Slipping from the bench, I hurry back into the coffee shop and lock myself inside their bathroom. I turn on the cold water and wet a paper towel. I press the cool compress to my eyes but some of my tears escape, making hot trails down my cheeks.
I’m annoyed with myself for letting Gabby get to me. She’s always been a mean girl and probably always will be. But I’d be lying if I said her reaction to seeing my scar didn’t hurt. I’m pretty sure all of my classmates who haven’t seen me since high school would react the same in her shoes. It’s just as shocking for me every time I see my reflection and I’ve had more time to become accustomed to seeing it.
Glancing in the mirror a final time, I make sure there are no tear streaks on my cheeks and that my eyes aren’t terribly bloodshot before I leave the bathroom. I return to the outdoor seating area and sink onto the bench across the table from Demi.
She carefully studies my face. “I hate that bitch for making you cry.”
Of course she can tell.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is. And the next time I see her, I’m going to make sure I repay the favor.”
That’s Demi for you. She’s the most loyal friend I could ask for.
I snort. “I love the thought, but that’s not necessary.”
“It will give me great pleasure.”
“Can I be there to watch?” I ask.
“Absolutely. I’m getting excited about this. How do we make it happen?”
“I think we need to let it evolve naturally. If you set something up you’ll reap bad karma.”
“Hmm. I don’t need any more of that. I’m already suffering from bad relationship luck. How else can I explain my shitty ex?”
“A poor decision that snowballed into more?” I suggest, giggling.
“Good dick has a way of making me do stupid things.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, sighing.
“Then it’s about time you find out. I bet Silas could help you with that.”
“Demi! I barely know the guy. Jeez.”
“It would be easy enough for you to change that. All it would take is another visit to his gym, and I bet he’d ask you out.”
Would he?
“I’m not sure I caught a flirtatious vibe from him as much as a friendly one.”
“You’re notoriously horrible at reading signals when it comes to men. They’d practically have to club you over the head to catch your attention.”
“Or carve up my face?” I quip.
Demi’s lower jaw falls open and her eyes bulge out. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“I surprised myself too.”
“Maybe that’s a good sign and means your emotional healing process is working.”
My shoulders jump in a quick shrug. “Could be. But five minutes ago I was crying in the bathroom, so most likely it means I’m a basket case who waffles from one extreme to the other with no warning.” I meet Demi’s gaze and we both break out into laughter. “Thanks for being my co-pilot during this confusing time. I appreciate you for always being there for me.”
“I think you’ve handled everything amazingly well. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t be nearly as strong as you are. I’d be lying in bed, letting everyone wait on me while I threw a massive pity party.”
“You’re ridiculous. First of all, if Jerry had busted into your apartment, you would’ve kicked his ass right out the door.”
“Or sat on him,” she jokes.
“Shut up!”
“What? I can admit I’m too much woman for some guys.” She skims her palms down each side of her torso. “My curves have curves, but it’s more cushion for the pushin’, baby.” Her eyebrows waggle.
I laugh. “You might be too much for some men to handle, but it has nothing to do with what you weigh. You’re just…”
“A lot to deal with,” she finishes for me.
“Yes, but in the best way possible. You’re sassy, smart, and capable. You need to find a man who’s intelligent and strong.”
“Someone who won’t let me walk all over them but also isn’t afraid to show me how he feels.”
“Exactly.” I nod.
“Those qualities are deceivingly difficult to find in a man. At least the ones I’ve been meeting.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
Demi rolls her eyes. “Pfft. You can’t agree with me on this because you, my little nerd, don’t even try to meet guys.”
“I… It’s not like I avoid them,” I defend.
“You don’t go to parties or go out of your way to be around other people, though.”
“Don’t make me out to be some hermit. I have friends at school and we hang out.”
“For study groups?” she asks with a sly smile.
“Maybe.”
She laughs. “I knew it.”
“Hey, I had a boyfriend during freshman year, and we know how that worked out,” I say. Charlie and I dated for six months until I found out he had a girlfriend back home in California. He tried to defend himself by saying they had agreed to date other people while at school. As if that made it better for me—the uninformed one in the relationship. I broke up with him the day I found out and haven’t spoken to him since.
“He was a dumb boy. You need a grown man who’ll appreciate your maturity and responsible nature.”
“I’m assuming you have someone in mind.”
Wait for it…
“Yep. Silas.” She grins.
“I wonder what his last name is,” I say.
She pushes her coffee cup to the side and snatches her phone from the table. “If only we had a way to find out.”
“Don’t look him up.”
“Why not?”
“It feels invasive.”
“I’m just looking his business up. That’s why he has a website in the first place.”
“So women can find out his name?” I ask, my lips quirking.
“Ha-ha, funny. Guess what his last name is.”
“I don’t know.”
“Take a guess.”
“Just tell me.”
“Take a guess,” she repeats more forcefully.
If I don’t give her what she wants she’ll drag this out.
“Manning?” I say the first name I can think of.
“Nope. Give me another.”
“Sullivan?”
“Nope. Guess again.”
I hold my palms up. “For fuck’s sake, just tell me what it is.”
“Weren’t you the one who didn’t want me looking him up?”
“Yes, but now I changed my mind.”
“It’s Landry.
Silas Landry. I like it.
“How have things been since our last appointment?” Dr. Gillis asks.
“Pretty good.”
“Have you been sleeping better?”
“A little bit. I’ve been doing the relaxation techniques you gave me. They help me fall asleep, but I only sleep for a few hours.”
“You look tired. How are you really doing?”
“How is anyone really doing?” I ask with a nonchalant shrug.
“Gwen.” She presses me for an honest answer.
“I’m okay, but I’m exhausted.”
“Physically or emotionally?”
“Both,” I say with an ironic laugh. “I haven’t been sleeping well in general, but last night I had a horrible nightmare.” Recalling the icy water sucking me deeper elicits a shiver.
“That bad, huh?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Not in depth. I’ll just say that I was drowning and it was beyond frightening. When I tried to get to the surface, my body wouldn’t cooperate. My limbs wouldn’t work. I was helpless.”
“Have you ever experienced that feeling before while awake or is it only in your dreams?”
“When Jerry grabbed me, I froze up. I couldn’t make myself move and then he had a knife to my throat so I couldn’t have anyway.”
“What about when the man pulled a knife on you and your friend? Did you feel the same?”
“Yes. I held still and didn’t say a word.”
“Can you think of a reason why you may have reacted that way?”
I nod. “I felt helpless and overwhelmingly scared.”
“What can you do to make sure you never feel that way again?”
“Never leave my house,” I joke. “On second thought, I was at home when I got assaulted, so…”
“Well, that’s not something I’d recommend for your emotional well-being.”
“I could hire a bodyguard. Some tall, muscular guy who’d protect me.” Silas immediately comes to mind.
“You could, but if the goal is for you to be confident whether you’re at home or out in public, that’s not going to be helpful.”
She’s right. I don’t want my self-confidence to be dependent on someone else.
“What do you think I should do?” I ask.
“Let’s get back to coming up with some practical options that might help you feel less fearful in a situation similar to what you went through. Can you think of anything?”
“Maybe you should just tell me since I’m paying you,” I sass.
She smiles. “That’s not how this works.”
“Yeah, I know, but it would be a lot easier if it did.”
“What’s the opposite of fear?” she asks.
“Confidence?”
“What’s something that you could do to make yourself feel more confident?” she asks.
“I could get physically stronger,” I say, and she nods. “I could learn self-defense.” My eyes light up at the idea.
“You seem excited about that possibility.”
“It would give me a course of action to take instead of being paralyzed with fear.”
“I think you’re onto something here. Are you a member of a local gym?”
“No. I used the one at school, but that won’t do me any good now.” What about Silas’s gym? Maybe he offers self-defense lessons. “There’s a place I know that might work. I’ll stop by on my way home.”
“Now you have a concrete step you can take before our next appointment.”
Nodding, I smile. I feel better than I have all day. And the thought of having an excuse to stop by and see Silas again, might have a little something to do with that.