Chapter Fourteen #2
He watched each slow step she took to close the distance between them, taking his hand in hers again. She led him to a settee near the fire and urged him to sit, seating herself beside him.
She shifted so that she faced him. “Now. We won’t be interrupted. We are going to sit here until you tell me as much as you are comfortable sharing about what happened to you.”
“Well, then, I shall say nothing, Juliana.”
She ran her fingers along his cheek, and he closed his eyes, reveling in her touch.
“Then tell me about what you felt when you woke from your dream.”
She held out her hand to him, and he took it, giving it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t look at her, instead focusing his attention on the hot coals in the fireplace.
“I was frightened. I had to remember where I was, and that I am no longer a boy, and my father no longer walks this earth.”
“How did he die?” Juliana asked softly.
“Apoplexy,” he responded. “He drank quite a bit, and it took a toll on his health.”
“Did he always drink?”
“For as long as I can recall. I’ve never known him to be without drink, but I tried to avoid being in his presence as much as possible.”
Juliana squeezed his hand, and they sat in silence for a few moments. He kept his gaze fixed on the fire, unwilling to see the pity and concern that was undoubtedly present in her eyes.
“When you have the dreams, are you recalling things that happened?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered, his breaths growing shorter.
“How long have you suffered from these dreams?”
“My entire life.”
She scooted closer to him on the settee and clasped her free hand over their entwined fingers.
“Was it because he drank?” she asked, her tone timid.
“That was part of it,” he started, “But more so because of the reason why he drank.”
He quivered with fear and shame, each emotion intertwining and strangling him from within as he sat next to her.
The mere thought of speaking the words filled him with terror, but a flicker of hope ignited within his soul, for he believed he may have found the one person who could provide him with solace and understanding.
Someone who cared enough to listen and might not judge him, or worse pity him.
Jude hadn’t known love for a day in his life.
“Will you tell me why he drank, Jude?” she asked softly, almost in a whisper.
Jude closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath before releasing it.
“I killed my mother.”
She gasped. “What?”
“At least that is what my father told me every chance he got. My mother died giving birth to me.”
“Oh Jude, you didn’t kill your mother. Many things can go wrong during childbirth, and none of them are your fault. You must not blame yourself, no matter what your father filled your head with.”
He appreciated the warmth and steadiness of her hand at that moment.
“My mother and father were a love match, and he never recovered from her death. He was so distraught. I was told by my staff later that my father never even came to see me until I was three. He hated me because having me cost him my mother, his beloved wife.” Jude paused, taking a few audible breaths.
“He began drinking to cope with her death, and he was a man who became mean when he drank. It started with verbal lashings. He told me how stupid and what a waste of life I was.”
Juliana moved the hand that rested on their clasped ones and cupped his face.
He turned his head away from her, not ready to look at her, but suddenly needing to continue with his story, hoping it might help him heal or at least bring him even a moment of peace.
“I thought when I went away to school, it would be the happiest days of my life. And in some ways, it was. I loved my time at school. I made friends with Matt, Elias, and Hudson. Evan, too, although he wasn’t a part of our regular set then.
But when I came home, my father took out all of his anger on me, and the beatings started.
Only with his fists, since he didn’t want to leave scars where anyone could see.
Bruises heal after a period of time.” Not really, he supposed.
“Jude, I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said, contemplating what he shared. “Is this why you have sworn never to marry? You are afraid you will be like your father? Jude, there isn’t a cruel bone in your body. You could never treat another person the way your father treated you.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not that. Once the beatings started, the nightmares started. I’ve never been whole since. I wake up consumed with anxiety and fear. The only way I have found to regain some semblance of control is through…physical means.”
He turned his head away again. “When I was seventeen and home from school for a few weeks before I was to take off to hide away at Elias’s family home, my father gave me one of his worst beatings.
There was this parlor maid who had tried on multiple attempts to capture my attention.
She came across me tending to my wounds, and, well, I won’t put you through the details, but she took my mind off of things.
It’s the only thing that allowed me to feel something that wasn’t shame and pain, even if only for a few moments. ”
Jude cupped Juliana’s cheek and met her eyes.
“I’m not the rake the ton believes me to be.
I let them, and our friends, think so since it’s far better than anyone knowing the truth.
It’s true, I had women I visited, but for the last year or so, it’s only been when I couldn’t calm myself after a nightmare.
I’m a broken man, Juliana, and I’m not good enough for anyone. Certainly not you.”
“Oh, Jude.” She leaned towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her, which instantly released the tension he held in his shoulders.
“I never want to hear you say such a thing again. You aren’t broken.
You’re healing from something awful that happened to you, and you’ve kept this bottled up for so long you’ve pretended to be an entirely different person.
I knew you were different with me, but I didn’t realize just how much of a mask you wore with everyone else.
The real you is far better than the fake version of yourself you let the world believe you are.
Just be yourself and take things one day at a time. ”
Jude pulled back and caught her gaze again. He didn’t see pity in her eyes, only adoration and the depth of affection she held for him. He clasped her jaw and stared at her lips, the anticipation strong within him for what a kiss between them might mean.
Tossing his fears aside, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.