He nods his head and I take a deep breath before I start telling my story.
He doesn’t move once as I begin speaking. I start with my childhood and work my way up through high school. His eyes get hard a few times, mainly whenever I mention my father. I pause for a second before I tell him about Brandon breaking into my office. I know he will be able to handle that part, but it’s going to be a stretch thinking that he’ll be able to control his anger when he finds out just how bad it got. My eyes have been watching my fingers play with a string hanging from my shirt, while I try to figure out how to tell him the rest.
“Dee?” I look up and see his puzzled gaze. The question in his eyes and the understanding nod show me that he realizes that this is part of the bad I’ve been keeping from him. “Go on, please.”
I open my mouth a few times before I get the words out. I keep my eyes glued to his as I tell him about the first attack Brandon made against me, the rape, and the fear that kept me from saving Izzy before she was finally able to free herself. I rush to get each word out, because with each continuing second, I watch a little part of one of my best friends break apart and splinter into a million pieces.
“I don’t think I ever dealt with it. At least not like a normal person would. I pushed it under the rug and continued to live my life the only way I knew how at the time.” I pause and look away from his angry eyes for a second, trying to calm my nerves. “When he hurt Izzy, that time at the condo we had, I think that was the start. Beck noticed and didn’t let me cave in, but even he couldn’t save me from myself. We had the most amazing week together before it all blew up and the lights went out in my life.” His eyes narrow in question, but he doesn’t interrupt me.
“It was a few weeks after Izzy got hurt. I had been pushing him away and doing my best to keep him in a nice little box so that he wouldn’t work his way into my heart, but Beck worked his way in.” I smile remembering those early days. “We didn’t even have a chance to tell anyone. Funny how that works. Everyone thought that we’d been playing these bedroom games for the last two years, but in reality, he’s held my heart the whole time.” I shake my head. I still can’t believe that Beck was the only one who ever noticed my pain. Well, Beck and Maddox, but Mad never let on that he has been silently watching my private struggle.
“I wasn’t even upset that you guys didn’t notice, you know?” I whisper the words, but he jerks when I finish talking. I swing my eyes back to his face and flinch when I see his eyes and lips pressed tight. I have to look away to get the rest out. Part of me wants to scream at him, but I know whatever angry words I might say, he doesn’t deserve them and knowing him, he’s beating himself up worse than I ever could. It’s no one’s fault but my own that I shut down and didn’t know how to process the pain. I wore the masks I needed to wear and I locked them out. I was my own worst enemy.
“After you got shot and all of the stuff with Brandon finally ended, something inside of me shut down. I didn’t know how to deal with everything. The memories of what he had done to me and to Izzy. I couldn’t see past the fear he had brought back when I was tied and at his merciless hands. Seeing Izzy’s life so close to being taken, and you, Jesus, Greg, watching you almost die. I shut down. The depression wasn’t even a match against the rest of the battles raging inside of me. Beck was there every step of the way for months until I finally succeeded in pushing him away.” I keep my eyes locked with his as I finish my story. I tell him about the times Beck saved my life, the therapy I’ve been in for the PTSD, and everything in between. When the first tear falls from his eyes, I almost have to stop talking, but somehow, I manage to get to the end.
When the last word leaves my mouth, he takes a great shuddering breath. He stands from the couch and walks over to the window overlooking the backyard. I can see his reflection against the glass. His eyes are closed tight, and I watch him struggle with his control. Right when I’m about to open my mouth and beg him to say something, anything, his eyes open and he turns, just staring at me. His eyes are full of unshed tears, and his Adam’s apple is bobbing with the force of his emotions. He opens his arms, and I move quickly from my spot on the couch. It’s only a few steps, but when his arms come around and close tight around my body. I let out a sob. He buries his head in the crook of my neck, and I can feel the wetness of his tears against my shoulder. His big powerful body is shaking with the enormity of his grief. We stand here for the longest time, just offering each other the strength needed. I know he needs to let all of it sink in, and if we have to stand here for hours, then so be it.