Jared. I'm still ashamed." The last word is little more than a whisper, but he hears it.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Savannah," he whispers and quickly reaches out to wipe away the tear sliding down my cheek. " Nothing. What Toby did to you isn't your fault."
The heat of Jared's skin on mine does something to me, shakes me to the core, ripping away the quasi-numbness I've tried desperately to cling to since he saw my scars. The way he says it wasn't my fault with such fierce certainty makes the tears fall faster. I want so badly to believe him, to forgive myself.
He sits beside me on the swing, so close the heat of his body sears into me. He doesn't touch me or say anything, but he doesn't leave my side until the tears dry up and my head droops with exhaustion.
"I'm sorry," he says then. "I seem to say that to you a lot."
"Me too." My voice is hoarse, my throat raw.
"No more apologies?" he asks, offering me that crooked smile that makes my stomach clench.
I nod my agreement.
"Goodnight," I whisper as he rises to his feet with another grin.
He turns back to me, reaches out and touches my cheek briefly. "No more tears either, beautiful girl."
"Okay," I say, stunned at both his gentleness and his compliment.
His smile this time is blinding.
"Goodnight, Savannah."
Chapter Five: Ordinary Day
Over the course of the next week, I find myself trying to make sense of what happened with Toby, and of how I let it get so bad. At times, revisiting those memories is agonizing. But I owe everyone an explanation. A reason… something. Sitting with Kit and telling her every little detail of my life with him makes me want to run again, but I don't. I sit, and I talk. And when I see Lexi the next morning, I don't run either. I sit… and I talk.
It's painful, but it's cathartic, too.
Neither Kit nor Lexi judges me. They don't blame me for what he did to me, and to my surprise, don't think less of me for it. They simply listen to my disjointed attempts to explain what Toby put me through, of why I never came back or told them how bad things were, and then they hug me again and tell me they're glad I'm home.
Maddi and I don't talk about it. She's too young, too innocent, and too heartbroken to hear what I would say to her. But I owe her an explanation anyway, a reason why I just disappeared from her life for two years. I give it to her the best I can as I push her on the old wooden swing tied to a tree beside the mansion.
"Why'd you stay away so long?" she asks, her bare feet trailing through the patch of sand exposed by countless years of dragging feet.
I sigh and brush my hand down her hair. "I wanted to find somewhere I belong." It's a simplistic explanation, but it's true. I just wanted to belong, to fit, to have a place. Toby offered me that, and I desperately wanted to believe him when he said things like "you belong with me" or "I'll take care of you." It seemed so simple then, so easy to climb on back of his motorcycle and then get on that plane with him.
In hindsight, there was nothing simple about it.
" Flight 814 to Chicago will begin boarding momentarily," a female ticket agent announces over the intercom as I stare out at the tarmac.
My heart thumps in my chest at her announcement and my hands shake. I ball them into fists and shove them into the pockets of my hoodie.
" You belong with me," Toby whispers from directly behind me as if he's sensed my nerves. His breath stirs the hair on my neck and I shiver. His words are steadying, like a deeply embedded tree root you cling to on your way over a cliff. I want so badly to believe him. "You don't belong here."
" I know," I respond, swallowing back the lump that instantly rises in my throat at his reminder of where I don't belong. Here… with Kit and Lexi, Maddi, and Matthew. I love them so much, but I can't stay here. I can't be a charity case forever. I can't be lost forever.
Italy promises security in a way nothing else ever has. A place for me.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Savannah," he whispers and quickly reaches out to wipe away the tear sliding down my cheek. " Nothing. What Toby did to you isn't your fault."
The heat of Jared's skin on mine does something to me, shakes me to the core, ripping away the quasi-numbness I've tried desperately to cling to since he saw my scars. The way he says it wasn't my fault with such fierce certainty makes the tears fall faster. I want so badly to believe him, to forgive myself.
He sits beside me on the swing, so close the heat of his body sears into me. He doesn't touch me or say anything, but he doesn't leave my side until the tears dry up and my head droops with exhaustion.
"I'm sorry," he says then. "I seem to say that to you a lot."
"Me too." My voice is hoarse, my throat raw.
"No more apologies?" he asks, offering me that crooked smile that makes my stomach clench.
I nod my agreement.
"Goodnight," I whisper as he rises to his feet with another grin.
He turns back to me, reaches out and touches my cheek briefly. "No more tears either, beautiful girl."
"Okay," I say, stunned at both his gentleness and his compliment.
His smile this time is blinding.
"Goodnight, Savannah."
Chapter Five: Ordinary Day
Over the course of the next week, I find myself trying to make sense of what happened with Toby, and of how I let it get so bad. At times, revisiting those memories is agonizing. But I owe everyone an explanation. A reason… something. Sitting with Kit and telling her every little detail of my life with him makes me want to run again, but I don't. I sit, and I talk. And when I see Lexi the next morning, I don't run either. I sit… and I talk.
It's painful, but it's cathartic, too.
Neither Kit nor Lexi judges me. They don't blame me for what he did to me, and to my surprise, don't think less of me for it. They simply listen to my disjointed attempts to explain what Toby put me through, of why I never came back or told them how bad things were, and then they hug me again and tell me they're glad I'm home.
Maddi and I don't talk about it. She's too young, too innocent, and too heartbroken to hear what I would say to her. But I owe her an explanation anyway, a reason why I just disappeared from her life for two years. I give it to her the best I can as I push her on the old wooden swing tied to a tree beside the mansion.
"Why'd you stay away so long?" she asks, her bare feet trailing through the patch of sand exposed by countless years of dragging feet.
I sigh and brush my hand down her hair. "I wanted to find somewhere I belong." It's a simplistic explanation, but it's true. I just wanted to belong, to fit, to have a place. Toby offered me that, and I desperately wanted to believe him when he said things like "you belong with me" or "I'll take care of you." It seemed so simple then, so easy to climb on back of his motorcycle and then get on that plane with him.
In hindsight, there was nothing simple about it.
" Flight 814 to Chicago will begin boarding momentarily," a female ticket agent announces over the intercom as I stare out at the tarmac.
My heart thumps in my chest at her announcement and my hands shake. I ball them into fists and shove them into the pockets of my hoodie.
" You belong with me," Toby whispers from directly behind me as if he's sensed my nerves. His breath stirs the hair on my neck and I shiver. His words are steadying, like a deeply embedded tree root you cling to on your way over a cliff. I want so badly to believe him. "You don't belong here."
" I know," I respond, swallowing back the lump that instantly rises in my throat at his reminder of where I don't belong. Here… with Kit and Lexi, Maddi, and Matthew. I love them so much, but I can't stay here. I can't be a charity case forever. I can't be lost forever.
Italy promises security in a way nothing else ever has. A place for me.
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