Chapter 30 Olena
OLENA
Grabbing a throw from the couch, I stuff my feet into my shoes and race out the front door, gulping in breaths of fresh night air.
Wrapping the blanket around my shoulders, my still-damp hair whips around my face in the wind.
The chilly night takes the heat from my cheeks and I close my eyes, grateful for the sensation.
Outside feels safer. My breathing slows.
The rain hasn’t hit yet. With a glance at the dark driveway, I shuffle over to the newly installed switch near the front porch and turn on the garden lighting.
Twinkling fairy lights dance to life in the chestnut tree across the clearing from where I stand.
The lights for the cliff-side seating area flick on, their soft yellow glow illuminating the table and chairs.
Along the garden borders and among the new plants, staked lanterns glow low to the ground, bringing the yard into focus like a stage.
The lit edges of the cobblestone and gravel paths in front of my feet glow a soft pinkish white, snaking along the ground.
From where I’m standing, I can see the top of the lights hovering over the firepit in the sunken garden. It’s beautiful.
Pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders, I take a steadying breath.
Walking carefully across the grass to the bench swing in the sparkling chestnut tree, the warmly lit property feels ethereal and hushed despite the howling wind.
I slowly climb the steps to the swing—the steps Jude and I built.
The wind around me is somewhat lessened under the shelter of the branches.
I sit down on the swing, tentatively leaning back, and look up.
The soft glow cast by the twinkling tree is stunning; the lights look like stars.
I hear the engine before I see the lights. Jude’s truck roars into the driveway and I watch, frozen and heart racing, as he gets out and jogs to the front door.
He knocks hard. “Olena!” he calls out.
“Over here!” I have to shout to be heard over the sound of the wind whipping between us.
Jude spins around. His eyes find mine in the soft glow around us.
I stand, shakily descending the steps, and his eyes lock on mine as he starts to cross the yard.
Still hugging the blanket around my shoulders, I move to meet him, my pace quickening.
The relieved expression on his face wrenches something in my heart and tears well in my eyes.
I break into a run, the blanket falling from my hands and fluttering to the grass.
I slam into his body, burying my face in his chest and squeezing my arms around him. His strong arms envelop me.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I murmur into his shirt, clinging to him tightly.
“I just can’t be here alone. The house—” My pulse is racing again and I’m shaking.
“There are all these banging noises, and the wind is making a howling sound inside the chimney somehow, and I heard glass break… I got scared. I just… I needed to see you.” I take a breath. “I need you.”
Jude pulls back and lifts my chin to look at him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.” He slowly rubs my back with one hand, and smoothes my hair away from my face with the other, searching my eyes. “I’m here,” he says again. His hands on me again feel so… right.
My breath catches at the concern in his expression.
This man. He’s been nothing but incredible to me.
All this time, I’ve been convinced I didn’t deserve him, but what if he’s exactly what I need?
Not later. Right now. Everything I’ve been holding back—everything I’ve been trying to push down—suddenly becomes clear to me.
I can’t deny my feelings any longer. The words come rushing out.
“I don’t want space or time, okay? I don’t. I hate being away from you so much; it’s making me feel sick and I can’t stand it anymore.”
Jude lets out a breath.
I wipe my eyes with my sweater sleeve, my voice shaking.
“You said you weren’t going to run. Well, I was running.
And I don’t want to run anymore either, Jude.
” I exhale an exhausted breath and close my eyes.
I feel his fingers slide into the hair at the back of my neck, his thumbs brushing my cheeks.
The warmth of his hands feels like home.
When I look back at him, it takes me a moment to steady myself.
“I want you. I’ve wanted you all this time. I just—”
Jude’s lips meet mine and I crumble. Tears run down my cheeks as I grasp at him, my hands at his neck, pulling him closer. I’ve missed his touch so desperately; feeling his lips on mine soothes a deep ache inside me. My eyes are still closed when our lips part, my breathing shallow.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He kisses me again, deeply and tenderly. “Olena…”
I look up.
“It’s about fucking time.” He smiles with relief and meets my eyes. “I was losing my goddamned mind.”
I let out a messy, breathy laugh. “I’m so sorry,” I say again as he kisses my nose, then hugs me tight to his chest.
I feel the first raindrops fall on my forehead, my hands, and my cheeks.
I pull back to look at him. “Jude, I need to tell you about what happened.” I wipe my eyes again, taking a deep breath. “About why I get so scared—why I have panic attacks and nightmares.”
“Are you sure?” he asks again. He furrows his brow, looking cautious.
“Yes.” I nod. He needs to know.
“Okay,” he says softly, rubbing his hands over my arms. “Come on, let’s go sit down.” He offers me his hand.
We walk back to the swing in silence, his thumb brushing rhythmic strokes over the back of my hand. On our way, Jude bends to retrieve the blanket from the grass. He settles in close beside me on the swing and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pressing a warm kiss to the side of my head.
Steeling myself, I take a deep breath. “Back in Seattle, I lived with my ex, Sean. We were together for a few years, but he started using drugs and things got… complicated.”
The rain picks up, filtering through the still-bare branches above us that only bear the first buds of early spring. We don’t move. He waits for me to continue.
“Our relationship got really stressful.” I brush the stray hairs from my face. “I kept trying to help him—to make us work—but it was bad. Things got kind of messy.” I drop my gaze and play with the hem of my sweater.
Jude listens silently, reaching for my hand. He intertwines his fingers with mine in his lap. I glance up and see the worry written across his furrowed brow.
I take another breath, looking back down at our interconnected fingers. “Last fall, these two guys…” The tears well up again; the pain of this memory is visceral, even now.
“It’s okay, take your time,” he says in a low voice.
I exhale a shaky breath into his shoulder. “Two guys came banging on our door, shouting about some money that I guess Sean owed them—I don’t know. We were home. We hid behind the couch. They broke our window to get in.” I lift my eyes to meet his.
Understanding blooms in Jude’s expression, his brow smoothing out. “I’m so sorry, Olena.” Releasing my hand, he pulls me gently into his chest.
“I was so terrified.” My voice breaks as I say the words. “They had knives and they—”
He pulls back suddenly, searching my eyes with worry. “Did they hurt you?”
“No,” I say, sitting up, and he looks relieved.
“But one guy held a knife to Sean’s throat.
And the other one…” I trail off, dropping my gaze.
“He put his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream.
I couldn’t breathe.” I take an uneven breath, fighting against the suffocating sensation the memory brings.
My face feels hot, and there’s a dull buzzing at the back of my skull.
I lift my eyes back to meet his, the tears spilling over.
Jude’s expression is pained; he presses his lips together, his anger palpable. He wipes the tears from my cheeks.
My chest feels tight, and a faint nausea roils in my stomach.
Taking another deep breath, I continue. “They took the money we had and threatened us. They said they were gonna come back, said they might have to be less friendly the next time.” I grimace hard at the memory of how that threat haunted me.
“But they eventually left. And no one was hurt. Not physically, at least.”
Jude exhales a breath, his brow creased with concern. “Fuck.”
“Yeah. It was fucked up.” I look down, an ache spreading across my collarbone and up into my jaw.
Rain pelts the ground around us. I briefly consider with a detached sort of amusement that this seems to be our thing—getting caught in the rain.
I lift my gaze.
Jude’s hair is dripping wet, raindrops gathering on his skin and running down his face. He kisses my forehead, then pulls back to face me.
“God, I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he says with quiet intensity, his eyes searching mine.
I nod. “I broke up with him and moved home soon after that,” I explain quietly, frowning. “I couldn’t be in that apartment or be around him any longer. I was always scared. Always.”
Jude’s brow knits together as he closes his eyes and exhales. He opens them again and brushes my cheek with his thumb. “Olena…”
“I still am,” I admit quietly. “The panic attacks… the nightmares… and tonight…” I glance over at the house.
Jude nods and pulls me into him again. He says nothing for a while, just rubs my back gently with one hand. Eventually, he speaks. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Thank you for…” I look up at him, my eyes burning. “Everything. Seriously. Everything.” I tuck my head back under his chin and squeeze him tight.
The sound of the rain changes, and my gaze lands on the ground, my face still pressed against his warm chest. Tiny balls of hail bounce off the grass.
Jude sees it, too, and pulls back to face me, lifting my chin with a finger.
“Hey, I know we’ve done the rain thing a couple of times now.” He kisses my forehead. “But this is…” He trails off as the sound around us intensifies. We watch as the hail bouncing up from the ground becomes larger, the sound louder.
We meet each other’s eyes before jumping up, then scrambling down the steps to make a break for the house.
I grip tightly to Jude’s hand as I shield my face from the frozen onslaught with the other arm.
The hail is the size of peas and stings where it hits my skin.
Jude tries to hold the blanket above us until we get to the covered porch and stop, breathing hard.
We stand there without speaking, listening to the cacophony.
“I forgot how quickly the weather changes here,” I say, giving him a small smile. My clothes and hair are wet from the rain, and I can see his are too. The chill is seeping into me quickly and I feel drained and cold.
“You okay to go inside again?” he asks gently, squeezing my hand.
“As long as you stay with me.” I meet his eyes, feeling unsteady.
“Olena, I’m not leaving,” he says with heartbreaking sincerity. And I know he means it.