Chapter 13
Farrah
What the hell just happened?
I stare at Knox’s retreating form with my jaw practically to my chest. I have no idea what to do now.
He’s the most contradictory man I’ve ever met. One minute, he’s saving me from breaking my neck, and the next, he’s yelling at me for something I can’t control. And now he’s demanding I call him when I need help?
Absolutely not.
He’ll be the last person I call when I need something.
I take a minute for my heart to get back to a regular tempo before I try to figure out this ladder he bought.
I wince at the way I berated him for not getting the same one I had. I’m suddenly wondering how often I’ve let my own issues stoke this animosity between us. He owns plenty of the blame, but there’s every chance that I’ve added to it.
This time, I don’t need a therapist to tell me why I said what I did. How many times did my ex do something nice for me, only to turn it into something nefarious?
I shouldn’t have taken my trauma out on Knox. No matter our shared history, I am the only one responsible for my triggers.
But the man seems to have a direct line to them.
I’m constantly trying to tame my reactions to him, but it never seems to work.
The only point I will give Knox is that I have never once felt unsafe in his presence.
In fact, I think he goads me to lose control more often than not.
It’s as if he wants to see me at my worst because then he won’t feel so shitty about being at his worst.
I’d never tell him this, but it is quite freeing to say the first thing that comes to mind without worrying about his reaction. Oh, his words can slice, but when you’ve felt the pain of a fist over and over? Knox’s verbal cuts don’t even compare.
I begrudgingly have to acknowledge that the ladder he returned with is better than the one I bought. It does everything I need it to while being a whole lot easier for me to carry around.
If I can find my way off my high horse, I’ll let him know I’m grateful. Until then, I’m going to continue to curse him out.
With my new ladder, I’m able to paint the rest of my cabinets with no other incidents.
I end up grinning at my adorably yellow kitchen.
I’m going to paint the walls a light blue and then add some white daisies on top.
I was inspired by a table at Curious Curios in town that had white daisies painted on it.
I debated about buying the table, but decided to wait until I finished the kitchen.
I’m exhausted, but in the best way. I’ve accomplished more than I ever imagined I could in the month since school ended.
Holt got me a great deal with a guy who fixed my roof.
I was able to reuse more of the front porch planks than I expected, and I’ve gotten the kitchen almost redone.
It’s not brand-new, but I was able to sand down the cabinets and upgrade the appliances to make it feel like it is.
Unfortunately, I’ve started to run out of money. Desi’s given me more hours at the diner this summer, and I don’t have to pay for my apartment anymore, so that’s helped. The kitchen will likely be my last major renovation though. I’ll have to do small pieces of the next rooms when I have the funds.
I’m not thinking about that part just yet. I’m happily living in a house I own, renovating it exactly how I want. That is an incredible feeling.
A meow has me narrowing my eyes at my traitorous cat. Picking him up, I snuggle Whiskey into my chest. “Why’d you have to go and like that annoying man? Aren’t you supposed to be territorial over me or something?”
Whiskey just rubs his head under my chin while I carry him upstairs to my bedroom.
I race through a shower and change out of my sweaty work clothes.
I’m supposed to meet Gwen and Gia at their house in twenty minutes for whine night.
It couldn’t have come at a better time—I need some serious help figuring out what the heck is going on with Knox.
* * *
“Wait a goddamn minute,” Gia yells as she slaps her hand on the arm of her chair.
Gwen and I start giggling at her. We’ve had about three glasses of sangria apiece and have officially crossed the threshold of drunk.
“You’re telling me that man saved your life and then yelled at you for it?” Gia continues.
I grimace. “Sort of? I’m a little fuzzy on exactly what he was pissed at me about. I think it was that I was by myself when the ladder broke.”
Gwen tilts her head to the side. “Well, I suppose I could see how that would be dangerous.”
“I was only like six feet off the ground!” I argue. “Trust me, I’ve had way worse injuries than a few bruises from falling off a ladder.”
“What the fuck has happened to you that falling off a ladder isn’t terrifying?” Gia’s question shouldn’t have caught me off guard. I opened the door. The best part about Gia is that her tone is genuinely hurt for me that I’d experience any kind of pain, let alone to that level.
I suddenly realize I have two of the best friends I could ask for, and if I can’t trust them with my past, then who the hell can I trust? “Not to kill the mood or anything, but my past is full of violence I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
Gia sets her wine glass down on the coffee table and adjusts her perch on the couch so she’s facing me, making it clear I have her full attention. “Do you want to tell us about it? If you’re not ready, that’s totally okay, but we’ll listen if you want to talk.”
I pick at a loose thread on my leggings.
“After my grandma died when I was a teen, my dad sold her house, and we moved north to Wyoming. His pattern was to sign on to a ranch, they’d realize he was an alcoholic asshole, fire him, and then we’d move again.
I had to get my GED because I was in and out of high school so much that I wasn’t able to graduate.
I managed to get a full-ride scholarship to a community college in Wyoming, and found a tiny bedroom in a shared house that I could afford if I worked at night.
It allowed me to finally get out from under my dad’s thumb. ”
“Damn right, you did.” Gia lifts her glass in cheers.
My lips quirk in a half smile as I take a sip of my drink.
This is the hard part of my story. “Unfortunately, my shitty upbringing left me with a skewed idea of what love and relationships should look like. In my sophomore year of college, I met a man. He love-bombed me. He made me believe he was everything I wanted in a guy, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Things were good for the first two years. I graduated and found a job in Wyoming that I loved. He worked in construction, although I’m not sure how often he was actually on a site.
“And then things started to change. When he’d drink, he’d take his frustrations out on me.
It wasn’t often, so I told myself it was the alcohol, not him, but then it started happening without the alcohol.
By the time I was finally ready to leave him, he’d put me in the hospital with more bruises on my body than skin, and a broken collarbone, arm, and jaw.
He’s in prison now, but I moved back here hoping to find myself again. ”
“God, Farrah. How awful that must have been for you.” Gwen’s soft voice is full of tears.
I huff out a laugh that lacks humor. “You know the thing I kept thinking about wasn’t the pain. It wasn’t my shitty husband or the choices I made. It was how alone I was in the world. I had no one anymore—no family, no friends, not even a shitty husband.”
“Abusers are good at that, aren’t they? Making it so you have no one to turn to,” Gwen says with a sad smile. Her parents were as awful to her and her sibling as my dad was to me.
“No kidding. I tried to stay in Wyoming for a couple of years after my ex was sentenced, but the memories were too close. It’s why I came back to Pine Creek Falls. This place was familiar. It was home, so I knew I could at least have that comfort even if I didn’t know anyone in town anymore.”
“And then you met me, and I haven’t given you a moment’s peace since,” Gia teases. Her levity is appreciated more than I could tell her.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” I wink at her.
“Okay, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest. Shall we play never have I ever?
” For the first time in years, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
I made it through telling my story without breaking down into sobs the way I used to in therapy.
I can officially look back on my life and see a woman who survived despite every obstacle trying to stop her. It feels really freaking good.
“Oh, god,” Gia groans. “I’m going to be drunker than a skunk.”
“Because you’ve done everything.” Gwen chuckles.
“Totally worth the hangover.” Gia’s grin makes her blue eyes shine. Not for the first time, I vow to live my life the way Gia lives hers. She makes no apologies for who she is. She doesn’t bend herself to fit someone else’s narrative.
I’m slowly getting there.
My friends encourage me to do and say whatever I want. I’ve more than proven to my heart that I can handle anything that comes my way.
Now, I need my brain to believe I can do it.