“Where were you for two years?” she asked.
“Not in a hospital.”
I knew what she suspected, but this was all so much more complicated than she knew. Not everyone needed help to stop hurting themselves. Some of us just traded in one coping mechanism for another.
She didn’t see me for two years, because Damon was trying to stay away. And then he was at college.
“Someone taught me a long time ago that pain releases pain,” I explained. “So when I was younger, I cut, poked, scratched, and burned myself, so I wouldn’t feel everything that hurt. And then I realized, it felt even better to hurt everyone else.”
“But not me?”
She had a teasing tone, but if she only knew. None of this was a joke.
I smirked anyway. “I did some damage.”
She just didn’t know how much yet.
“Don’t make me answer questions,” I told her. “You won’t like the answers.”
“But I need them.” She turned her face up to me.
“I know.”
I knew it was coming. Once the sex happened, she didn’t want to be away from me.
And in all honesty, I didn’t want to be away from her.
I just needed to make sure she listened to me. That she heard me out and couldn’t run away. That there was no one around to interfere before she was able to process it.
If I wanted to keep this, it was my only chance.
I tipped her chin up, looking down at her. “My family has a cabin in Maine,” I told her. “There’s already snow. It’s gorgeous up there. One phone call and it’s stocked for us. Get dressed and come with me now.”
“What?”
“Once we’re there,” I explained, “I’ll tell you everything. Just for a few days, and then I’ll bring you home.”
She pulled her head up, a puzzled look on her face. “Taking me to a remote location where I can’t run away?”
“I’ll make sure you won’t want to leave,” I teased, pulling her back on top of me and holding her face. “I promise.”
She’d be unbelievable angry, but it was the only thing I could do to make sure she absorbed it and got a chance to see past it. To make sure she knew the man I was with her was what was real.
“A cabin?” she pondered. “Like for skiing? I don’t have to ski, right?”
“We’re not going to fucking ski.” I kissed her, nibbling and teasing. “We’re going to eat and drink and screw and probably fight a little, but we’re not leaving the cabin.”
A ping sounded from my phone, but I ignored it.
She sat there, straddling me as I kissed and bit, teasing her and luring her, but she stopped moving or responding.
I pulled back, seeing the worried look on her face.
“You don’t want to go,” I guessed.
But she sighed, looking ready to cry. “I do,” she said. “God, I do. I want to be alone with you for days and days. It would make me so happy, but…”
But what?