you,” or “You are such a good fuck,” or “Damn, you’ve got great tits/ass/pussy.”
I soaked up the praise, feeling loved for the first time in years. I turned to face him and kissed him on the lips, trying to demonstrate how I felt. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to form coherent words to express my feelings.
“What is it, Baby? Why the tears?” He stroked my cheek with his thumb and looked deeply into my eyes.
“I...I....” I began, but was fearful to say what I wanted to. The last time I’d tried to show affection towards him, when I was sixteen, he responded by backhanding me. I shook my head and tried to step away.
He held me so I couldn’t move away. “Anna, tell me, please,” he said in a gentle voice.
The adoration I ’d had for him as a child welled up inside of me. I looked at him, desperate for him to understand. “I...I love you, Devin.”
Devin gazed down at me in a way I hadn ’t seen in four years. He looked at me like he did before...before everything changed. My heart soared.
“I love you too, Anna,” he said in a hoarse voice. He appeared overcome with emotion -a situation unheard of with him. He continued speaking, softly, as if afraid to hear his own words. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through, my love. If there had been any other way....” His voice trailed off. “Every scream that came out of your mouth broke my heart. Every bruise, every tear. I hated doing it. That’s why I didn’t visit often. I couldn’t bear to see it. But it had to be that way, Anna. You had to be prepared. You had to be toughened up. Otherwise they’d devour you before you knew what was happening.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “I’m so, so sorry, Baby. But it had to be that way.”
The tears spilled over onto my cheeks, my heart aching for him. Knowing that in a way he’d suffered along with me made me love him more.
He pulled my head to his chest and held me tightly. “I do love you, Anna. I love you so much. And I’m so proud of you. You are so strong and so brave. You have become everything I’d hoped for. More than I’d hoped for.” He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. I struggled against my instincts to look away. “I want to make it up to you, Baby. For the lost years. Is there anything in particular you can think of that I can do?”
Images flitted through my mind of happier times. Ballet classes as a child; performing in The Nutcracker Ballet with my parents on their last night alive. I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Ballet,” I said after a moment. “Could I take a few more classes and... maybe perform again?”
He tilted his head, his gaze not leaving mine.
“Or,” I added, “I don’t have to perform, but maybe, I dunno, one more class a week or something? I just want to dance more. I don’t care where. Maybe even just a room here that I could use and a CD player with some music and I could dance on my own.” I looked down at his chest, scarcely daring to breathe, hoping against all hope that he would let me.
My two ballet classes had been my only anchor to reality the last few years. Dancing reminded me of my parents and the happy times I had growing up. The last year I hadn ’t put much effort into it, though. What was the point? But now...was it possible that there might be a chance to perform again? The idea of being on stage, of losing myself in the characters...I felt like a drowning person, seeing the surface of the water an inch above their face. To me, dancing was life.
Devin didn ’t say anything for a moment. I looked up warily into his face. He stared off into space, as if lost in some memory. I didn’t move, not wanting to anger him and lose all possibility of my dream.
After a few minutes, he still hadn ’t spoken. I blinked away tears and prepared myself for his disapproval. My heart ached in my chest. How could I have even dared to make such an audacious request? I should have taken more time to consider-
“Yes,
I soaked up the praise, feeling loved for the first time in years. I turned to face him and kissed him on the lips, trying to demonstrate how I felt. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to form coherent words to express my feelings.
“What is it, Baby? Why the tears?” He stroked my cheek with his thumb and looked deeply into my eyes.
“I...I....” I began, but was fearful to say what I wanted to. The last time I’d tried to show affection towards him, when I was sixteen, he responded by backhanding me. I shook my head and tried to step away.
He held me so I couldn’t move away. “Anna, tell me, please,” he said in a gentle voice.
The adoration I ’d had for him as a child welled up inside of me. I looked at him, desperate for him to understand. “I...I love you, Devin.”
Devin gazed down at me in a way I hadn ’t seen in four years. He looked at me like he did before...before everything changed. My heart soared.
“I love you too, Anna,” he said in a hoarse voice. He appeared overcome with emotion -a situation unheard of with him. He continued speaking, softly, as if afraid to hear his own words. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through, my love. If there had been any other way....” His voice trailed off. “Every scream that came out of your mouth broke my heart. Every bruise, every tear. I hated doing it. That’s why I didn’t visit often. I couldn’t bear to see it. But it had to be that way, Anna. You had to be prepared. You had to be toughened up. Otherwise they’d devour you before you knew what was happening.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “I’m so, so sorry, Baby. But it had to be that way.”
The tears spilled over onto my cheeks, my heart aching for him. Knowing that in a way he’d suffered along with me made me love him more.
He pulled my head to his chest and held me tightly. “I do love you, Anna. I love you so much. And I’m so proud of you. You are so strong and so brave. You have become everything I’d hoped for. More than I’d hoped for.” He pulled back and looked me in the eyes. I struggled against my instincts to look away. “I want to make it up to you, Baby. For the lost years. Is there anything in particular you can think of that I can do?”
Images flitted through my mind of happier times. Ballet classes as a child; performing in The Nutcracker Ballet with my parents on their last night alive. I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Ballet,” I said after a moment. “Could I take a few more classes and... maybe perform again?”
He tilted his head, his gaze not leaving mine.
“Or,” I added, “I don’t have to perform, but maybe, I dunno, one more class a week or something? I just want to dance more. I don’t care where. Maybe even just a room here that I could use and a CD player with some music and I could dance on my own.” I looked down at his chest, scarcely daring to breathe, hoping against all hope that he would let me.
My two ballet classes had been my only anchor to reality the last few years. Dancing reminded me of my parents and the happy times I had growing up. The last year I hadn ’t put much effort into it, though. What was the point? But now...was it possible that there might be a chance to perform again? The idea of being on stage, of losing myself in the characters...I felt like a drowning person, seeing the surface of the water an inch above their face. To me, dancing was life.
Devin didn ’t say anything for a moment. I looked up warily into his face. He stared off into space, as if lost in some memory. I didn’t move, not wanting to anger him and lose all possibility of my dream.
After a few minutes, he still hadn ’t spoken. I blinked away tears and prepared myself for his disapproval. My heart ached in my chest. How could I have even dared to make such an audacious request? I should have taken more time to consider-
“Yes,
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