He looked at the therapist and shrugged. “I don’t know, don’t really care. I was a teenager when he tried it, the same size as him. He didn’t even know how he’d gotten the black eye when he woke the next morning.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I honestly think he was just so drunk that he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.” He dropped his hand to his lap and stared at the therapist. “He’d never done it previously, and never did it again. For all I know he could have thought I was a fucking woman.”
Lauren squeezed his hand again.
“Sorry about the language.”
“It’s okay, Ace. This is an open, honest room. You speak however you feel comfortable,” the therapist said and wrote something down. “Lauren, is there anything you want to say in response to what Ace just said?”
Lauren stared at him, licked her lips, and stared down at where their hands were entwined. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I knew Ace had a shitty life, and I’ve tried, throughout the years, to be there for him, and will continue to be here for him.” She stared at him, and he felt his heart in his throat. “I’ll always be here, because without him in my life I’d have this big chunk missing, and it would be unbearable.”
“Ace, you said that Lauren is someone you want to make happy no matter what. Can you explain that a little more, and how you think that helps you control your anger and the violence you have built up over the years from the abuse?”
Ace stared out the window, trying to put into words what Lauren meant to him. He’d told her, in so many ways, that she was important, but he didn’t know if she truly understood the role she played in his life.
“If you’re uncomfortable we can move onto something—”
“No, I’m not uncomfortable.” He looked at Lauren. “She knows that without her in my life, without her there for me all these years I would have gone off the deep end.” He stared into her blue eyes, got lost in the color, and wanted to kiss her right now.
“Why do you see Lauren as a lifeline, Ace? Do you think you wouldn’t succeed without her in your life?”
He stared at the therapist, really thought about what she’d said, and knew without a doubt that if not for Lauren he’d be in a much worse spot in his life then he was now. “She is my life. She was the first person, aside from a childhood friend, that accepted me for who I was. But after I moved I didn’t have Toby in my life.”
“Hmm, continue.”
He looked at Lauren, saw her full attention was on him, and so he talked right to her. “Before I met you I felt like my life was nothing but a waste, felt like I had nothing to look forward to. Do I feel weak that I rely on your presence in my life to make me stronger, to make me feel whole?” He squeezed her hand. “No, I don’t. I feel stronger when I’m with you. You make me want to be a better person, to strive and not let my emotions and past bring out the monster in me, even if I still do monstrous things.” He took a deep breath, baring his soul for this woman and a virtual stranger that was probably taking every word he said and his body language and analyzing it. “Every day you’re in my life has made me a better person, stronger inside, even if it seems like I haven’t healed.”
“Ace,” Lauren said softly, smiling, holding his hand tight.
“So, I wanted you to come here today so you could see I’m serious about making this work with you, and that there isn’t anything left that I’ve hidden from you.” She was the only person that knew every little detail about himself. Even Toby hadn’t known the extent to which his father had abused him, and certainly not after he moved and changed schools and they didn’t talk again until they were in their twenties. “I’m an open book to you, and it’ll always be that way.”
The room was silent for a moment. “And that’s all of it, every piece of myself bared.” He hadn’t meant to say that all out loud, but it had just come out, and he honestly felt better about himself. Maybe coming here in the first place, and then bringing Lauren here hadn’t been a bad idea, or something he’d just done to bring her closer and show Lauren he was serious about making himself better as a person.
The idea of coming back again, making sense of why this had all happened to him, and how he could make himself not be so angry, and not have all this violence inside of him, wouldn’t be such a bad idea in the long run. If it helped him move forward without covering himself in some kind of fake veneer of fighting and anger to rid himself of his emotions, then he’d try.