look in his eyes. Caleb and AJ, on the other hand, act like they simply care what their fiancées are doing.
My eyes return back to my cup as I try to sort out my thoughts. Justin controlled me in so many ways. As I stare at the red liquid, I realize I’m tempted to drink it. I want to do all the things that Justin never allowed me to do. Unfortunately, old habits die hard. The last and only time I’d gotten drunk, I’d ended up arguing with Justin, and I’d ended up paying the price for it later.
A soft sigh escapes me as I let my gloomy thoughts envelop my mind. Justin wasn’t as abusive as everyone seems to think he was. At least not physically. Yes, there were times where he’d grab me too roughly or push me around, but he’d never hit me. The worst thing he’d ever did was attack me with that knife that fateful afternoon. Instead, Justin liked to abuse me in other ways. He’d get into my head, figure out my insecurities and use them against me to make me do what he wanted.
God, I let him get away with so much, and I still don’t understand why. I should have fought his controlling ways, so why hadn’t I? I know part of it is because I simply got used to it, and another part was because I felt I didn’t deserve anyone better. Justin was very good-looking. Me…I’m just the girl next door type. He told me all the time that I was lucky he was showing interest in me. That there would be no better for me. No one would ever be interested in a flat-chested girl with a boyish figure. He had even made fun of my freckles across the bridge of my nose and cheeks. He made me feel almost stupid at times. He constantly put me down.
So why had I stayed?
I wish I had all the answers. I saw a therapist right up until I left for Long Beach, and I still have unanswered questions that only I can provide. But yet I can’t. There is no clear explanation for why I put up with the stuff that I did. At least not one that I can find within myself. I’ll never truly know why I stayed so long.
“Did you learn anything?”
My head pops up, and my eyes meet Jeremy’s. I never heard him approach—but here he stands—all six feet and two inches of him. He’s a very attractive man, but he doesn’t make my belly tighten like Ace does. “Excuse me?” I ask in reference to his question.
He smiles slightly and nods at my still untouched drink. “You were looking at your drink as if it held all the answers in the world.”
I feel my lip quirk in the corner. “Nope. No answers.”
His brown eyes turn playful. “You still look way too sober. And you look bored. Come dance,” he says, reaching out and plucking my drink out of my hand. He hands it off to Zoey, who accepts it and then turns back to her conversation with Caleb.
I shake my head quickly. “No, I don’t dance.”
Jeremy reaches for my hand. “Eh, it’s not really dancing so no worries,” he says as he tugs me away from the shelter of our small group.
“No, really. I can’t,” I protest, trying to pull my hand from his larger one.
I feel a warm hand settle on the center of my back. “Too bad,” I hear Zoey say before she pushes me right into Jeremy’s awaiting arms. My chest slams into his, and I let out a little squeak as Jeremy’s arms wrap around me. He’s laughing softly as he pulls me out among the group of people dancing to loud music.
He leans down and says in my ear, “Don’t ever piss that one off.”
I give up trying to pull away and gaze up at him with a rueful look. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
He chuckles and slips his hands down my hips, urging me to dance with him.
“Really, I don’t dance,” I protest.
“Have you ever tried?”
Justin hadn’t taken me to any parties, and I shake my head.
“Well, now is the time to learn. C’mon, Faith. It’s just dancing,” he coaxes.
I give up the fight and try to follow his encouraging suggestions, but my movements are stiff, my lips tense. This is not
My eyes return back to my cup as I try to sort out my thoughts. Justin controlled me in so many ways. As I stare at the red liquid, I realize I’m tempted to drink it. I want to do all the things that Justin never allowed me to do. Unfortunately, old habits die hard. The last and only time I’d gotten drunk, I’d ended up arguing with Justin, and I’d ended up paying the price for it later.
A soft sigh escapes me as I let my gloomy thoughts envelop my mind. Justin wasn’t as abusive as everyone seems to think he was. At least not physically. Yes, there were times where he’d grab me too roughly or push me around, but he’d never hit me. The worst thing he’d ever did was attack me with that knife that fateful afternoon. Instead, Justin liked to abuse me in other ways. He’d get into my head, figure out my insecurities and use them against me to make me do what he wanted.
God, I let him get away with so much, and I still don’t understand why. I should have fought his controlling ways, so why hadn’t I? I know part of it is because I simply got used to it, and another part was because I felt I didn’t deserve anyone better. Justin was very good-looking. Me…I’m just the girl next door type. He told me all the time that I was lucky he was showing interest in me. That there would be no better for me. No one would ever be interested in a flat-chested girl with a boyish figure. He had even made fun of my freckles across the bridge of my nose and cheeks. He made me feel almost stupid at times. He constantly put me down.
So why had I stayed?
I wish I had all the answers. I saw a therapist right up until I left for Long Beach, and I still have unanswered questions that only I can provide. But yet I can’t. There is no clear explanation for why I put up with the stuff that I did. At least not one that I can find within myself. I’ll never truly know why I stayed so long.
“Did you learn anything?”
My head pops up, and my eyes meet Jeremy’s. I never heard him approach—but here he stands—all six feet and two inches of him. He’s a very attractive man, but he doesn’t make my belly tighten like Ace does. “Excuse me?” I ask in reference to his question.
He smiles slightly and nods at my still untouched drink. “You were looking at your drink as if it held all the answers in the world.”
I feel my lip quirk in the corner. “Nope. No answers.”
His brown eyes turn playful. “You still look way too sober. And you look bored. Come dance,” he says, reaching out and plucking my drink out of my hand. He hands it off to Zoey, who accepts it and then turns back to her conversation with Caleb.
I shake my head quickly. “No, I don’t dance.”
Jeremy reaches for my hand. “Eh, it’s not really dancing so no worries,” he says as he tugs me away from the shelter of our small group.
“No, really. I can’t,” I protest, trying to pull my hand from his larger one.
I feel a warm hand settle on the center of my back. “Too bad,” I hear Zoey say before she pushes me right into Jeremy’s awaiting arms. My chest slams into his, and I let out a little squeak as Jeremy’s arms wrap around me. He’s laughing softly as he pulls me out among the group of people dancing to loud music.
He leans down and says in my ear, “Don’t ever piss that one off.”
I give up trying to pull away and gaze up at him with a rueful look. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
He chuckles and slips his hands down my hips, urging me to dance with him.
“Really, I don’t dance,” I protest.
“Have you ever tried?”
Justin hadn’t taken me to any parties, and I shake my head.
“Well, now is the time to learn. C’mon, Faith. It’s just dancing,” he coaxes.
I give up the fight and try to follow his encouraging suggestions, but my movements are stiff, my lips tense. This is not
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