I couldn’t speak anymore, so I nodded and watched her leave. Like me, she was going to be alone tonight. Her torment would end tomorrow though, while mine would continue. But at least I’d had a moment of pure peace with her. Even though my heart was cracking and I was terrified she’d change her mind and stop this thing we were doing, I would hold on to the feeling of holding her in my arms. I’d hold on to it forever.
I love you, Kiera. And I’m sorry.
Chapter 18
I’m Not Yours
Much to my surprise, Kiera didn’t end things the next morning. Exhausted from a sleepless night of thinking about her, and about what she might say to me after the incident on my bed, I’d gone to her room as early as I’d felt I could. As painful as the prospect of losing her was, I needed to know if she was going to kick me to the curb or give me another chance. When she only gave me a brief reprimand, telling me to not take it that far again, a surge of relief washed through me. Right or wrong, she didn’t want to end this yet either.
The bar was hopping later that evening, bursting at the seams with people, thanks to my little half monty the night before, but I wasn’t into it. Holding Kiera in my bed was the only thing on my mind. Last night might have been the last time that happened. It made me a little sad to think about it. I felt like a gong was going off in my brain—a constant reminder of Kiera and Denny reuniting. It almost made me want to ask Denny to leave again. Or make him leave. I couldn’t though; he wasn’t to blame for any of this. I’d created this mess by allowing it to happen. I never should have wanted something that wasn’t mine.
A couple of days later, I picked up Kiera from school and we headed over to our favorite place in a park nearby. It was near the school, within walking distance, and we came here sometimes when we wanted to enjoy the day, and nature, and each other. The first time I’d come across Kiera here, I’d accused her of stalking me, since I stopped here to exercise sometimes when I went for a run. We’d laughed, joked around, and had nearly kissed that day. We seemed to be nearly kissing a lot lately. Being around her was incredible, but difficult too. Pain and pleasure twisted together so thoroughly that it was sometimes hard to separate the two.
With an espresso in one hand, I grabbed a blanket from my trunk with the other. It was sunny out, but crisp and cold. Winter was fast approaching. Kiera was bundled up in a puffy purple jacket, but her nose was still pink. I had the oddest desire to rub my nose against hers—pink against pink—but I didn’t know if that would be crossing a line or not, so I didn’t.
We found a spot to lay the blanket down, near a field where a few people were running around, trying to stay warm. Setting my coffee in the grass, I snapped the blanket, then let it float to the ground. Careful to not spill her own coffee, Kiera settled onto her hip, then smiled up at me. The joy on her face stole my breath. Even though Denny was back, Kiera beamed at me whenever she saw me. And maybe I was wishing it to be true, but…she didn’t seem to be smiling as widely for Denny. Or as often. In fact, they didn’t seem to be spending much time together at all. Just the other day, Denny had skipped out on Kiera right before they were supposed to go see a movie together—it was at least the second time he had left her dateless. She’d been mad at him for it, but then she’d invited me to go with her instead, and we’d had a great night together. I tried not to feel bad about Denny’s dwindling connection with her. Or happy either. Their relationship was separate from ours, or so I convinced myself. I would be whatever Kiera needed me to be.
We sipped our coffees in a comfortable silence. As much as the liquid coursing down my throat warmed me, it was nothing compared to sitting beside Kiera. She heated me from the very center of my core. Thawed cold, dark places that I hadn’t even been aware of before. Just being around her made everything better.
When our drinks were finished, we put the empty cups on the grass, and I grabbed her fingers. They were still warm from holding her hot drink. Kiera interrupted the quiet with a question that I was surprised to hear her ask. “That song the other weekend, the kind of intense one…it’s not really about a woman, is it?”
I knew exactly what song she was referring to. It was called “I Know,” and like she’d said, I’d played it a while back. The song was about a woman in an abusive relationship. Hiding behind that lie was as close to my past as I could get. I hadn’t realized she’d been listening to the words so intently, and I hadn’t known that she’d have enough insight into me that she’d be able to see right through the lyrics. How the hell did she know?
Seeing the unasked question on my face, she supplied an answer, one I hadn’t considered. “Denny. He told me what happened, while he was staying with your family. The song was about you, wasn’t it? You and your dad?”
I turned away from her and gazed out over the park. Denny. I should have guessed that he would tell her. It kind of hurt that he’d told her something so private, but on the other hand, I was kind of glad she knew. I didn’t want to talk about it though. I nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she quietly asked.
“No.” I didn’t ever want to talk about it. There was no point in even thinking about it, much less discussing it. It was what it was.
“Will you anyway?” she asked, pain and compassion in her voice.
With a sniff, I looked down at the grass. Grabbing a blade, I twirled it in my fingers. I kind of felt like that ribbon of grass, being spun around against my will. What would the grass say, if it could talk? Do what you will with me, I’m already torn open.
When I peeked up at her, my father’s condemning eyes clouded my vision. “There’s nothing to talk about, Kiera.” He beat me up because he hated me, and everything I represented. Mom allowed him to do whatever he wanted to me because I ruined her life. I ruin everything; just look what I did to you and Denny…“If Denny told you what he saw, what he did for me, then you know as much as anyone.”
“Not as much as you.” Her voice was firm, but full of empathy. Ice ran down my spine. She wasn’t going to drop it this time; she was going to pull, pry, and try to unearth my secrets. I wasn’t ready to tell them; I didn’t think I’d ever be ready. And yet…I didn’t want to stop.
Looking like she was sorry for asking, she said, “Did he hit you often?”
So many memories bombarded me that I couldn’t separate them all. Cringing under his heavy fists, screaming as his belt bit into the flesh of my bare thighs. Crying. Begging for him to stop…
My heart pounded in my chest, and my throat completely closed. I couldn’t speak now if I wanted to. With a hard swallow, I nodded, just once. It was a weak, pathetic way to answer a question, but it was the hardest admission I’d ever made in my life. Yes, he beat me all the time. Every goddamn night he found a reason to hurt me. I couldn’t do anything right. And I tried. I tried so hard to be good.
“Very badly?” Kiera asked, clearly struggling with her own emotions.
I didn’t want to answer her, I desperately wanted to change the subject, but her eyes held me, and after a long time, I finally nodded again, just once. There were times I couldn’t sit, and times I couldn’t stand. Broken bones, bruised ribs, concussions…I’d had it all.
“Since you were little?”
I nodded again, and my vision grew hazy as tears stung my eyes. For as long as I can remember.
Kiera swallowed, and I could tell she didn’t want to ask any more painful questions, but she couldn’t stop herself now either. She’d already ripped off the bandage; now she had to clean the wound before she could re-dress it. “Didn’t your mom ever try to stop him…help you?”
It was clear that all of this was unfathomable to her. Understandable. From what I could tell, Kiera’s parents were warm, loving, good. Mine…were not. I shook my head no, and a tear in my eye rolled down my cheek as I remembered Mom watching me with disdain, like everything being done to me had been my fault. “You brought this on yourself, Kellan,” was her frequent response.
I could see the horror on Kiera’s face even more clearly once the watery obstruction in my vision was gone. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Seeing the look on her face brought even more memories rushing to the surface. They pummeled me relentlessly.
Her eyes as watery as mine, Kiera asked, “Did it end when Denny left?”
My mind shifted to the months of abuse after Denny had gone back home. My dad was furious that he’d gotten caught, that I’d made him look bad, that there had been a crack in the façade…that I had begun to grow a backbone. He and Mom wanted to look like the perfect family. Appearances had been everything to them. Much more important than me.
Swallowing the knot in my throat, I shook my head again. “It got worse…so much worse.” I was surprised I could tell her that. I was surprised I could speak at all.
Again looking like she couldn’t picture such cruelty, she whispered, “Why?”
Because there is nothing about me worth loving, a fact proven by what I have done to you and my best friend.