"Well, maybe I should wait until I taste this pie to see how special you think I am." She’d lost the edge and a good natured smile resumed in its place.
"I feel like that should be my line," I teased.
I heaped a plate full of food and passed it to her. "Why don't you tell me more about yourself?" I was ready to know her, in all of her shades, all that she was.
"I already told you most of it."
"Oh, I doubt that, A Chara. I think you're much more complicated than you've let on."
"No, really, it’s not an entertaining story. A deadbeat mom and a lousy dad who abandoned us. Life sometimes sucks. The end."
"Erin, don't bullshit a bullshitter, and I’m telling you, I was the best. You've got some obvious trust issues, those don't materialize from just a deadbeat mom."
"I wouldn’t be here if I had trust issues. I trust you, Aiden."
"Intimacy issues then. You don't let anyone close enough to really know who you are. You forgot who you’re dealing with. I wrote the playbook when it comes to dysfunction."
I watched as she took a bite, and weighed what to say. Erin didn’t like confrontation. She also ran from any situation that would make her too vulnerable. But I wasn’t going to let her lie to herself, with me she had to be all in or nothing.
"What do you want from me, Aiden?"
"I want you to open up to me. I want to know you, the real you."
She dropped her fork on the plate; it made a clanking sound that rang through the flat. Her instinct was to run.
“Just breathe. I’m not going anywhere.”
"Everyone that's ever been nice to me has wanted something. I don't know how to do this."
I got up from my chair and gathered her to me. I held her close until our heads were touching. "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you say to me. I'm going to be right beside you holding your hand."
"You don't know that," she said as her eyes fluttered closed.
"Look at me, Erin," I demanded. She slowly opened her eyes. "I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime, and I’ve met all kinds of different people, but none of them have been you. I'm not a stupid man. I know when I see something worth holding on to. Let me hold on to you. Trust me."
"I wish Liam and I had you and your gym while we were growing up,” she said to me. Tears rimmed her eyes and she smiled bravely through them.
“I wish that too. Sometimes letting it go is the only way to move on,” I told her.
She nodded and swallowed holding the back of her hand to her lips. Then she took a deep breath and started.
“My childhood wasn't all bad. When I was little, we lived in a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. Mom and Dad were both there and doting, I had my own room and I still remember it, all pink with ruffles and bows and a white furry carpet. When I was seven, Liam was born and I gained a cute little baby brother to love on. Everyone was happy at that point. Maybe it was too good to be true because right around that time is when it all started to fall apart. The fighting, the yelling and throwing, breaking glass and Mom with black eyes and Dad with scratches on his face.
“I was terrified, because my perfect life had fallen into darkness. It was like a sickness creeped over them and changed my parents from sweet to sour overnight. I tried to protect Liam, but I was just a kid myself. I would lock myself in my room holding the baby, trying to tell him everything was okay when I was scared to the bone.
“Then one night, after an especially bad fight, I heard the door slam, and Mom was left sobbing on the floor. Dad never came back after that."
Tears started to roll down her face, I brushed my thumbs against her cheek wiping them away. I hated to see her cry. I wanted to go back in time and fix everything for her, to save that little girl so that she would never know any pain or sorrow.
"After my dad left, my mom started drinking more. At first, it was just a few drinks in the evening, and then it just spiraled out of control. There was a time when it was almost impossible to see her without a bottle in her hand. That was when my grandparents, her parents, came and got us. We lived with them for nine years, they cared for Liam and me until they both passed away. Grandma went first and Gramps was already showing signs of dementia. He finally went into a home and died a few months later. When that happened, we got shuffled back to mom. By that time, she wasn't just drinking anymore; she'd moved to hard drugs. I was sixteen by then, Liam was just nine."