need to talk.”
“I agree,” I held out my hand to the left, attempting to lead her from the shop. If I could just get her to listen to me, maybe I could still fix this.
She turned around and walked away as I followed close behind. I tried not to focus on the sway of her ass, but I am a guy and she had a sweet ass, so it happened.
She abruptly stopped and because I hadn’t been watching I bumped into her back as I reached out to steady both her and myself. And for a moment, she remained close, allowing me time to breath in the familiar sweetness of her perfume, her lotion, and the smell of her shampoo. All the things I had grown to love and the things I had missed over the last couple of days.
She suddenly stepped away; that action alone felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I didn’t like not being able to touch her. I had never had to keep my distance because she always welcomed my touch. I thought she, too, relied on the physical contact just as I had, until now.
“I miss you,” I said without thinking. It was true; I had missed her, so much it made me feel sick.
“You don’t miss me; you just miss the idea of me,” she insisted and I couldn’t stand her thinking that her words could be true.
“I’ve never had someone like you in my life,” I whispered as I sat down on the retaining wall that separated the bays just out front of the shop.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. She stood in front of me, with her arms crossed. There was entirely too much distance between us and I wanted nothing more than to grab her and pull her close but I knew she would only reject me and right now I didn’t know if I could handle that.
So instead, I fisted my hands and focused on explaining just what my words meant.
“I’ve never had someone who cared so much. Someone who made me feel safe.” I looked up at her, hoping she believed me. “So when I say I miss you, I mean that I miss you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you in, but it was never because I didn’t want to. It was because I didn’t know how, because I was worried it would change the way you looked at me.”
The hardness in her eyes softened but I didn’t give her a chance to say anything. I needed to get this out before I chickened out and missed the chance.
“I don’t want pity, Liv, and your heart is too damn kind not to feel the need to comfort me. That doesn’t make you wrong; it’s just something I don’t want—I can’t. I left a lot of shit behind because I don’t want to live it daily, not anymore.” I took in a deep breath, trying to gain the strength to continue. “No man wants a woman he cares about to look at him as weak. And for years I was weak. I let my father beat me because he had nothing better to do. I let my brother bully me, and they both sat back and laughed like the entire thing was a comedy.”
“This right here,” I pointed to my lip, “this was from my father. He showed up wanting money, and when I refused to give him any, this is what it got me.”
I could tell she was fighting against the sadness this news brought her.
Olivia was a compassionate person. She hated the idea of anyone or anything suffering. I don’t know how many times I watched her cry at those commercials showing hungry children in other countries, or animals being neglected. She had the biggest, sweetest heart. I knew it was killing her not to express her sadness at the things I was sharing with her.
“I don’t like sharing the things of my past,” I confessed.
“But you shared it with her?” Olivia whispered.
Lacy, I knew, was someone who made her uneasy. I could see it every time we passed her in the hall, or whenever her name was brought up.
“I didn’t share it with her the way you think I did.” I slid forward and reached out, taking her hand. I could feel her resistance, but I needed to touch her. “Lacy witnessed the abuse first hand on more than one occasion. She called the cops when my brother showed up
“I agree,” I held out my hand to the left, attempting to lead her from the shop. If I could just get her to listen to me, maybe I could still fix this.
She turned around and walked away as I followed close behind. I tried not to focus on the sway of her ass, but I am a guy and she had a sweet ass, so it happened.
She abruptly stopped and because I hadn’t been watching I bumped into her back as I reached out to steady both her and myself. And for a moment, she remained close, allowing me time to breath in the familiar sweetness of her perfume, her lotion, and the smell of her shampoo. All the things I had grown to love and the things I had missed over the last couple of days.
She suddenly stepped away; that action alone felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. I didn’t like not being able to touch her. I had never had to keep my distance because she always welcomed my touch. I thought she, too, relied on the physical contact just as I had, until now.
“I miss you,” I said without thinking. It was true; I had missed her, so much it made me feel sick.
“You don’t miss me; you just miss the idea of me,” she insisted and I couldn’t stand her thinking that her words could be true.
“I’ve never had someone like you in my life,” I whispered as I sat down on the retaining wall that separated the bays just out front of the shop.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. She stood in front of me, with her arms crossed. There was entirely too much distance between us and I wanted nothing more than to grab her and pull her close but I knew she would only reject me and right now I didn’t know if I could handle that.
So instead, I fisted my hands and focused on explaining just what my words meant.
“I’ve never had someone who cared so much. Someone who made me feel safe.” I looked up at her, hoping she believed me. “So when I say I miss you, I mean that I miss you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you in, but it was never because I didn’t want to. It was because I didn’t know how, because I was worried it would change the way you looked at me.”
The hardness in her eyes softened but I didn’t give her a chance to say anything. I needed to get this out before I chickened out and missed the chance.
“I don’t want pity, Liv, and your heart is too damn kind not to feel the need to comfort me. That doesn’t make you wrong; it’s just something I don’t want—I can’t. I left a lot of shit behind because I don’t want to live it daily, not anymore.” I took in a deep breath, trying to gain the strength to continue. “No man wants a woman he cares about to look at him as weak. And for years I was weak. I let my father beat me because he had nothing better to do. I let my brother bully me, and they both sat back and laughed like the entire thing was a comedy.”
“This right here,” I pointed to my lip, “this was from my father. He showed up wanting money, and when I refused to give him any, this is what it got me.”
I could tell she was fighting against the sadness this news brought her.
Olivia was a compassionate person. She hated the idea of anyone or anything suffering. I don’t know how many times I watched her cry at those commercials showing hungry children in other countries, or animals being neglected. She had the biggest, sweetest heart. I knew it was killing her not to express her sadness at the things I was sharing with her.
“I don’t like sharing the things of my past,” I confessed.
“But you shared it with her?” Olivia whispered.
Lacy, I knew, was someone who made her uneasy. I could see it every time we passed her in the hall, or whenever her name was brought up.
“I didn’t share it with her the way you think I did.” I slid forward and reached out, taking her hand. I could feel her resistance, but I needed to touch her. “Lacy witnessed the abuse first hand on more than one occasion. She called the cops when my brother showed up