Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
OSCAR
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
What just happened? What did I do?
One minute she was writhing underneath me and the next she’s curled up, eyeing me like I could pounce on her at any second.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” I soothe, the desperate edge in my voice hard to stomp down. I raise my hands, the way you might when approaching a cornered animal. “Freya, it’s okay, just take some deep breaths for me, yeah?”
My heart breaks at the sight of her. She squeezes her eyes shut and tucks her face into her knees. It feels like a fist going through my chest. I scramble around to grab my shirt, figuring my bare chest isn’t exactly gonna be helping.
“Frey,” I plead. “Please say something, tell me what to do, tell me how to help you. I just want to help.”
A choked sob rips out of her and it kills me. I did this. I made her feel this afraid. I don’t know how, where I went wrong, what signals I missed, but somewhere in my haste I got so carried away that now she’s shaking at the top of the bed, refusing to look at me.
“Freya, please. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.
I’ll go, I swear. Just tell me you’re okay and I’ll leave, give you some space.
” Fuck, I’ll never speak to her again if that’s what she wants.
“I don’t want to leave you alone like this, but say the word and I’m gone.
” I’m rambling, my words rushing together in my panic.
I don’t know what to do, how to make this better.
Her head finally rises and she looks at me, eyes rimmed red. In this moment, I know I’d tear out my heart and hand it to her, lay at her feet and spill my guts, anything to clear that haunted look from her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
The fuck?
“What?” I ask. “Freya… baby, no. you have nothing to be sorry for.” I scoot an inch closer to her, something in me loosening a fraction when she doesn’t back away. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I am sorry.”
“No, you—” She stumbles over her words. “You didn’t do anything. I ruined it.”
“Jesus, Frey.” I sigh. “You didn’t ruin a fucking thing. If you’re not into it, then neither am I.”
“But you were…”
“Yeah, only because I thought you were too.” I gain another inch of ground, slowly moving closer. “Freya, I swear to God, I thought you liked it, I never would have kept going otherwise.”
“I did!” she exclaims. “I wanted to, it just all got too much, and it scared me, and I—” Her words cut off on another sob. It honestly feels like I could be dying. Like with the next tear down her cheek, I’ll drop dead.
“Freya, I’m gonna lose my mind if I can’t hug you right now,” I beg. “Is that okay? Nothing more, I swear.”
She gives the tiniest nod and slowly starts to unfurl herself from the ball she’s in. Shuffling across the bed, I stay kneeling like a penitent and open my arms, waiting for her to close the distance.
When she moves, it starts slow, but there comes a point when she practically dives at me. She wraps her arms around my waist like metal bands as she hides her face in my neck. I return her hug with more gentleness, cupping the back of her head and tucking her further under my chin.
We stay like that in the quiet for a long time, our breaths slowly syncing up as we both settle.
Her knee touches my thigh where she’s sitting crossed legged by my hip, leaning her shoulder against my chest. I don’t dare to move except to place the occasional kiss in her hair and run my hand up and down her back.
“Can you tell me what happened?” I probe gently.
“I got scared…” She trails off.
“I know, honey. Can you tell me what scared you?”
“I liked it at first,” she says, picking up her head to give me a weak smile.
I hate that she’s the one trying to reassure me right now.
I kiss her forehead, silently urging her to continue.
“But then I couldn’t move, and you were all around me—” She clamps her mouth shut, cutting off the rest of her sentence.
“Hmm?” I hum into her hair.
“It reminded me of something,” she whispers.
I freeze. Horror seizes me like a vise and I lean back, guiding her face up to look at me.
“Freya?” I almost gasp, sheer terror at what I think she’s saying flooding my system. “Did somebody…” Her eyes glaze over with tears. I clear my throat, willing myself to keep it together. “Did someone hurt you?”
“I-it was… it was kind of—” She halts herself, hiding her face in my neck. I cup the back of her head, running the tip of my thumb along her ear in soft strokes.
“Please,” I murmur.
“Aaron.”
My blood freezes in my veins and I have to fight to keep my hold on her gentle.
I knew there was something more going on. I should have realized, should have put the pieces together. Maybe then, I could have stopped this from happening.
Freya pulls back to look at me and the haunted look on her face almost breaks me in half. I brush the strands of hair from her eyes, feeling like there’s a storm brewing inside of me.
I have to know. “Did he—?”
“No!” She stops me. “God, no… I mean, I don’t know… he was just…” She’s rambling, and with every word it gets harder to keep my composure.
“Baby. Please, just take a breath. Tell me what happened.”
She stares up at me, looking so alone. I wish I could take it all away, but all I can do is be here for her now.
We sit in silence for long minutes as she takes slow, even breaths.
I’m happy to wait. I’ll wait all night if she needs.
I place reassuring kisses on her shoulders, all the while kneading my fingers into her spine, trying to coax the tension out of the muscles.
Eventually, it’s like all the fight goes out of her and she sags against me, her forehead resting just below the hollow of my throat.
When she speaks, I have to strain to hear the words. I almost don’t dare breathe for fear of missing something, the key to all of this.
“I was really nervous, the first time with him. I hadn’t… before, I hadn’t—”
“Was it your first time?”
“Yeah,” she squeaks out.
“What happened?”
“I mean, I think it’s normal to have a bad first time.”
“Did he tell you that?” I snap, harsher than I want to, wanting to kick myself when she stiffens. I whisper out an apology and drop more soft kisses to the side of her face, trying to urge her to carry on.
“We went out to dinner,” she continues, placing each word carefully like it’s a house of cards. “It was nice, but the restaurant was a little loud. I don’t know if he could tell I was having a hard time, but when he ran into a friend a few tables over, he spent most of the night talking to him.”
“Asshole,” I grumble. What fucking idiot would get a shot at taking Freya on a date and waste it thinking about anyone but her?
“I should have just ditched him, then. Hung out with the girl his friend was there with,” she jokes weakly, trying for humor.
I don’t bite. “We went back to his place after. I don’t think he actually asked, but I didn’t tell him to take me home so I guess he just figured…
” I can hear her breath hitch like she’s trying to hold back a sob.
Everything in me is raging at where I think this story is going.
“Freya, I know it’s hard for you to talk about. If you really don’t want to, we can go to sleep. Try again in the morning.”
“I want to tell you,” she asserts, and I could almost deflate with relief.
I don’t know if this story is something I want to hear, but imagining is worse.
Besides, if she had to live it, the least I can do is listen.
Maybe by speaking it out loud, she can let a piece of it go. “I just need to get there.”
“We’ve got time.” I speak against the shell of her ear. “And I’m a very patient man. Tell me.” I take her cheeks in my hands and pull her away, bringing us almost nose to nose. I need her to see me for this, to know that I’m here, that it’s her and me.
She bites her lip, but then I see the resolve travel across her gaze.
“We got back to his apartment and I was already feeling unsure. It was obvious he had expectations, but I didn’t think he’d push.
He knew I’d never been with anyone before, so…
” She squeezes her eyes shut. I just want to fix it, but I can’t, and I don’t know how to handle that.
When she goes to hide her face again I let her, wrapping her in a tight hug.
“We were kissing, and then I stopped him. We were on his bed and he just kept talking, going round and round in circles, saying all this stuff, saying how it was normal, how normal relationships went.” Fuck.
“I just got so confused. Eventually I was so twisted up, and I thought I wanted to, but I don’t know…
maybe I just wanted to make him happy with me. ”
“Freya,” I huff out. It’s like the wind’s been knocked out of me. That someone could do that, to her, my Freya.
“I felt so stupid afterwards. I mean, how could I not say anything? I should have asked him to take me home when we first got in the car, or just left when he started getting pushy, but I was so confused, and overwhelmed. I couldn’t get my thoughts straight, or my words out.”
“Frey…” I coo, running a hand through her hair. It’s like I’ve been hollowed out, but I can’t focus on that now.
“He came by the house the next day, and he seemed so normal. He made me think it was like that for everyone, so when he asked me out again, I figured I should say yes.”
“How long were you together?” I ask carefully.
“Maybe eight months? I don’t know, it’s hard to say when it started for real.”
“Did you end it?”
“No.” The word comes out jagged, like shards of glass caught in her throat. “That’s the worst part. After all that, he got to be the one to leave.”
“Fuck.” I try to hold her tighter, like I could somehow fold her into my chest. “It doesn’t matter who ended it. It’s over. You don’t ever have to see him again.”
“But what if I just…” She shakes her head against me, like she’s trying to burrow her way in. “I just worry. I don’t know if I would have left.”
“You would have.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do. I know you. I know how strong you are.”
“I’m not strong.”
“You are,” I press. She may not see it, but I do. She’s a God damn powerhouse when she lets herself be.
“I was so pathetic back then. I was just so lonely, and I felt like that was my one shot at finding someone. What if I would have just put up with it forever because I didn’t want to be alone?”
“Freya, you can’t know for sure what might have happened.
But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, you’ve built this amazing life all on your own.
” I lift her face, needing to look her in the eye when I say it.
“And you’re not alone. I know this is new, but I’m fucking nuts about you, I have been for a really long time.
When we were kids I thought you were so cool, so smart.
You were the most interesting person I knew, and now that I know you better I can see that I didn’t even know the half of it.
” Maybe I’m being too forward, but I think she needs to hear it.
“I believe with my whole heart that it wouldn’t have mattered if he broke up with you or not, you’d have gotten the fuck out of there.
And now you’re here, and you’re a miracle, Freya. ”
Something swims in her eyes that I can’t place.
“Please say you believe me.” I’m not too proud to beg.
“I’m trying to.”
Later, we lie facing one another, the tip of my finger tracing across her eyelids, down her nose, over the bow of her lips. She hasn’t said anything in a long time, I guess she’s wrung out after telling me everything.
I’ve never felt this way before, this rage bubbling up inside me. But listening to Freya, hearing her choke out what happened to her, what he did to her? It drags something primal to the surface.
Her eyes are closed, though I know she isn’t asleep.
She’s curled up, both hands tucked under her cheek, like a resting angel.
I came here tonight on autopilot. As soon as I got into my truck, the only place I wanted to be was wherever she was, like an ache in my chest that would only budge when I got to look into those eyes.
I rest my palm against her jaw, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin under her eye.
It’s our only point of contact and every part of me zeroes in on those nerve endings, memorizing her face.
She opens her eyes and gives me a small smile that I’m sure is for my benefit.
I lean over and press a gentle kiss to her temple, relishing the sound of her soft hum and the way her eyelashes flutter against my cheek.
“Can I hold you?” I ask, desperate to be close to her.
Tension unfurls inside me at her nod and I loop an arm around her waist, fisting the cotton T-shirt at the small of her back and gently tugging her toward me.
I slide my other arm under her head so she can shuffle forward and use my bicep as a pillow.
“Freya?” I whisper, her silence starting to worry me. “Can you say something, baby?”
She sighs and shakes her head. I know she has a rough time trying to get her words out when she’s feeling overwhelmed, so I just tuck her in closer, resting my lips against the top of her head and breathing in the soft vanilla scent of her hair.
“You just give me a nudge if you want me to back off. Whatever you need, I’m yours. ”
I’m yours.
If only she knew just how much I mean that.