34. Chapter 34 #2
“I was married to Simon for five years. I married him because it had been drilled into my head I was worthless, dumb, ugly, and no man would ever want me.” I pause for a minute, swallowing the angry tears trying to come.
“So when he showed interest in me, said all the right things, and promised me this beautiful life, I didn’t overthink it.
I jumped in. The life I came from was a far cry from the life he was promising me.
But it wasn’t even about the money; I didn’t care about that.
I wanted to be loved, and he promised me that.
He made me feel like I was worth something. And it was great. In the beginning.”
I stop to take a deep breath. I can tell Nick wants to say something, but I raise my hand slightly, letting him know I’m not finished.
“But it didn’t take long before I started to see the man I had actually married.
He was controlling and possessive. It started with him not wanting me to work, insisting I spend my time with the wives of the men he worked with.
It was me putting on a fa?ade for the social circle we were a part of.
He picked out my clothes, told me to straighten my hair and wear more makeup.
He chose how to decorate our apartment. It was all black and gray since he hates color.
” I laugh dryly and add, “I love color, if you can’t tell. ”
Nick lets out a small, humorless laugh and shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine.
“That was all bad enough. But then his occasional drink after work turned into a few every night. And when we went out, he’d drink more.
He’d always get angry when he’d been drinking.
The night I left, we were at one of his work events, and he’d had a couple of bourbons.
First, he told me I looked pretty, then as the night went on, he accused me of dressing like a slut to get attention from his coworkers. ”
I see anger flare in Nick’s eyes, but I’m too lost in a memory to stop now.
“He said I was showing off my tits for everyone to see. That I was a whore who needed men’s attention. When I suggested we leave, he got even angrier, but I somehow convinced him to go. It was when we pulled back into the apartment that he hit my head against the window.”
My breath starts to come faster and shallower, but I push myself to continue.
“You asked how I was feeling after finding out our entire marriage was a lie?” I take both of Nick’s hands in mine and lean into him, making sure to keep my gaze locked on his.
“At first, I was confused. How could a person do that to another human being? A person they claimed to love? But then…I was relieved. Relieved to have no legal binding to the man who manipulated me, the man who treated me like a possession and not like a partner, who hurt me both emotionally and physically. I am in no way obligated to Simon.”
I keep hold of Nick’s hands, ducking my head a little.
“Which is pretty perfect, since there’s a man who makes me laugh, shows me kindness, and has shown up for me time and time again. A man who looks at me like he likes what he sees and introduced me to his family with no hesitation.”
I pause, suddenly feeling chagrined.
“You asked how I felt when I found out I was never married to Simon. And the answer is free. I felt free.”
Nick doesn’t speak right away. He’s still holding my hands, but his grip has tightened slightly, like it’s the only thing containing something darker. His jaw flexes once, a muscle jumping there, as his eyes burn with something sharp and unmistakable. When he looks at me, it softens immediately.
“I’m really sorry,” he says quietly, his voice steady with a slight weight to it, “that you went through all of that. That anyone made you feel like you had to earn being loved.”
He shakes his head once in disbelief. “What they did to you was wrong. All of it. And none of it is your fault.”
His thumb brushes over my knuckles, grounding me. “I hate that you were hurt. I hate that you were controlled. And I hate that there wasn’t someone there to stop it.” His breath leaves him slowly. “God, it just makes me so angry for you. I wish I could have been there. To get you away from him.”
He pauses, his eyes delving deep into mine, making sure I’m hearing his every word.
“But hearing you say you feel free? That’s huge, Lydia.
That tells me you survived something that was never supposed to define you.
” His eyes hold mine, steady and sure. “You don’t owe that man or your piece-of-shit father a damn thing.
You deserve to live your life on your own terms, doing the things that make you happy.
” Then, softer, almost reverent, he adds, “I’m really glad you found your way out. ”
He squeezes my hands gently. “I hope whatever comes next for you is your choice. No one else’s.” A faint, careful smile touches his mouth. “And I’m honored,” he adds quietly, “that I get to be standing here with you now.”
We sit holding hands, simply looking into one another’s eyes for a while longer.
Nick clears his throat and says, “I really do need to get going. We’re swamped at the shop right now, and I’d really hate to leave the guys hanging.”
He still hasn’t let go of my hands. I break eye contact just to look down at where he’s still holding me.
“I have work in a little while too,” I say.
When I look back up, he is still looking at me.
He leans down and places one of his hands on my cheek, cupping it lightly.
He kisses me gently, but when he pulls away, his eyes are heated.
I lean in and kiss him back once. And then again, tempted to go back in for a third time, but decide to pull back instead, giving him an ornery grin.
“If I keep kissing you, I won’t leave, and then we’ll both be in trouble. But man, I want to keep kissing you.” He laughs lightly, bending down to kiss me again.
Finally, Nick checks his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. “I should go,” he says, though he doesn’t move.
I nod, my hand finding the front of his shirt as I curl my fingers into the fabric like I’m anchoring myself there.
“Tonight?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Come by after work? I can make dinner.”
His mouth curves upward. “It’s a date.”
He kisses me again, this one soft and lingering, the kind that promises more without taking it. When he finally pulls away, it feels deliberate. Controlled.
He groans as he walks to the door, opening it and closing it behind him, not looking back once. I stand here for a moment longer, heart still thudding, already counting the hours until this evening.