Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Cruz
I have an idea about what she wants to talk to me about, since some of the signals she’s been sending my way lately have been more than obvious, but after a few discussions with Sadie, I’m letting her lead.
Sadie told me that women who’ve been assaulted need to be in control of the situation, at least until they feel safe again with physical intimacy.
Even though I’ve never been in that position since most men aren’t, I’ve done my best to put myself in her shoes.
If it had happened to me, I’d want to hide away from the world, lick my wounds, then when I returned to the land of the living, I’d probably keep everyone at arm’s length.
Much like Mindy has done these past months.
I hate that women aren’t safe in this world, that so many men think they’re fair game because they’re considered as being the ‘weaker sex’, even if they’re some of the strongest of the sexes, especially since the women in my life are strong and independent.
Even Mindy isn’t broken the way she thinks she is, she was merely bent for a little while.
But with the help of her therapist, as well as her best friend, she’s almost back to her old self. Maybe a bit more cautious, definitely a lot shyer when it comes to physical closeness, but even with those new quirks, I love her.
Yes, I’ve fallen in love with her and it probably started with interest and lust the day she moved in next door.
However, seeing how she’s handled what was done with her, as well as this pregnancy, has shown me that she’s the woman I want by my side until I draw my last breath.
Now I need to tell her, because I’m pretty sure she thinks this marriage is one of convenience, to protect the baby from Clark’s grasp.
“Mindy?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you want me to go through a drive-thru for some food or do you want me to throw something on the grill when we get home?” I ask.
“Um, well, I think Violet’s hungry now to be honest. Can we go inside and eat instead?”
While she’s been shopping with Jolie, as well as with me and Dex, she hasn’t willingly eaten in public since we started our relationship and I feel like this is a huge step in the right direction for her recovery, so instead of asking why, I say, “Absolutely. What were you thinking?”
“How about Roadhouse? I’m sure the steaks won’t be as good as yours, but those rolls and that butter should make up for it. Plus, they have those chocolate lava cakes,” she says, licking her lips.
“You had me at the lava cake, kitten,” I tease. “Sounds like a great idea to me.”
“Cruz?” she asks as we wait for our entrees.
Part of me wanted to order dessert first, but we both need to eat real food first. Although…
we’re adults and we can make those choices and splurge from time to time since we’re not constrained by a parent saying to eat our vegetables before taking care of our sweet tooth.
Still, she’s growing a baby, so it makes sense to wait.
“Yeah, kitten? You said you wanted to talk about something,” I reply. She drops her gaze and I see her wringing her hands together. “Mindy? Whatever it is, just calm down and tell me. I’m not gonna bite, sweetheart, and there’s nothing you can say to me that’ll change how I feel about you.”
I see her visibly relax at my words and I reach across the table to grip one of her hands in mine, then lace our fingers together.
“I think… I’m… God, this is so hard! I want to make this a real marriage, Cruz.
I know we sleep in the same bed, but that’s all we do is sleep.
And I want more, even though I’m scared to death I’ll freak out. ”
“Then we’ll take it slow and you’ll be in control, Mindy,” I tell her. She looks at me, her shocked expression making me bite back a grin.
“You’d… you’d do that?” she whispers.
“Yes, because we do things and make sacrifices for those we love, kitten. And I love you and Miss Violet Grace down to the marrow of my bones. I’ll do anything for you, anything, and if you need to be in charge, then we’ll do that.”
“You love me?” she questions. “But I’m broken, Cruz, and hell, I don’t even know if I can uh finish it, so to speak.”
“I love you, and you’re just bent, not broken, sweetheart. And if you can’t ‘finish’ then we’ll try again at another time.”
“You’re an anomaly to me,” she muses. “How did I get so lucky?”
“Because many years ago, I learned I would be blessed with a feisty woman, one who was bruised by life but overcame it, and we would build a beautiful life,” I reply, remembering the ‘fortune teller’ I saw at a fair one year.
I blew off her predictions, of course, but something about meeting Mindy brought it to mind.
Seeing how she pushed through the invasive SANE exam, how she kept putting one foot in front of the other, even on the days when she didn’t want to, just added to how I began to feel about her.
“You give me more credit than I deserve,” she says. “Most days, I’m still a hot mess, plus toss in these pregnancy hormones and I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”
“I’m just telling you what I see, Mindy.
I know you’ve had your moments of falling apart, but honestly, you earned that right after what happened as far as I’m concerned.
You finally reached out for help, and while you haven’t told your parents or Brock, you did tell your best friend and also found a therapist. Healing isn’t a linear event, kitten.
There are hills and valleys and sometimes, you go backwards in order to move forward. ”
“You’re a pretty smart guy, Cruz,” she states, grinning at me.
“I did some therapy time myself, kitten,” I admit.
“When all the shit with my old job happened and I found myself locked up, it really messed with my head. Since they didn’t really have shrinks inside and I wasn’t about to allow people to see any weakness, real or perceived, I waited until I was on parole.
Most of my sessions have been online because of my work schedule, but that was something my therapist said to me.
Healing isn’t a linear event. And he was right with respect to my situation, and I think it applies to yours as well.
Every time you do something ‘new’ since that night, if it causes any angst, it triggers you to that night.
Then you have to remember how far you’ve come, but each time it happens, it takes less time to bounce back. When was the last panic attack?”
“About a week ago,” she murmurs.
“And did you figure out what triggered it?” I probe, my voice as gentle as I can make it considering how deep it naturally is.
“Yeah, I was hanging up clothes from one of the last boxes that I had and came across a dress that was similar to what I wore that night, just a different color,” she replies.
“What happened?”
“You know what happened,” she sasses, “because you found me sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth as I cried while holding the dress.”
“All true, but what did you do when I came into the room?” I push.
“I started breathing along with you, which pulled me out of the attack, then I put the dress in the donate pile I started,” she says.
“Do you know what you would’ve done a few months ago?” I ask.
“Probably shoved it back into the box, then put the box in the back of the closet, never to be opened again.”
“Instead, you faced that demon head on, kitten. If that’s not healing, I don’t know what else to call it.”
She takes a shuddering breath before she sips on her water, then she nods at me.
“You’re right. I’m sure if I read through my journal, I’d see even more progress.
I still have my moments where I feel dirty and disgusting, but then I remember how you showed me I never was when you helped make sure the wounds I created were cared for and didn’t get infected. ”
Before I can respond, our meals arrive and we start eating. I know the topic is hard to discuss, but being in a relatively neutral space has helped her open up even more and I’m so proud of her right now, I could burst.
“Good idea to bring the dessert home,” she says as we drive away from the restaurant.
“Kitten, I want us to enjoy this in the comfort of our own space,” I reply. “I may or may not have plans for the sauce. Later of course.”
The giggle that reverberates through the cab of the truck has me grinning in return. “You’d really be willing to do laundry later?” she finally asks.
“Every day and twice on Sunday,” I quip, reaching for her hand so I can hold it in mine.
“An anomaly,” she whispers. Out loud, she says, “You sure you’re going to be okay if we have to stop?”
“A boy might have an issue stopping, but any male who calls himself a man shouldn’t, even if he’s in the middle of the act, plain and simple.
While I may not be able to control the physiological aspect of things, as far as my dick getting hard, I am in control of what I do with it and even if we’ve made it to that point, if you start freaking out, I will stop.
That’s a promise that will never be broken by me.
No matter the circumstances, you say stop, and everything halts without question.
And no, I won’t get pissed off or upset, so I don’t want you to think that’ll happen, okay?
We’re gonna take things slow and easy and at your pace, Mindy.
” I hear a hiccuping sob and glance at her to see tears are slowly trickling down her face. “Kitten? What’s the matter?”
“We haven’t even done anything yet and already I feel like I’ve regained some of me back, Cruz,” she says through her sobs. “Again, I’ve gotta be the luckiest person alive.”
“Blessed, Mindy,” I add. “We’re both blessed.”
“Yes, yes we are,” she whispers, squeezing my hand.