They’re the idiots who keep falling for it.
My mother always pretended that her marriage was perfect. My sister cried to me after I’d beaten her good-for-nothing husband and said she didn’t want to be like our mother: sad, pathetic, andstupid.
I’ve never told anyone how I sat and watched as my father beat my mother, because part of me thought she deserved it for staying.
The shame of never intervening still haunts me.
“You aren’t a victim,” I agree. “But you asked why it kept happening to you.” I give him a sad smile. “This is why it keeps happening to many people.”
Micah shakes his head. “It’s notthat,” he says. “It’s because—” He lets out a frustrated sound. “Never mind.” He falls silent again, fiddling with the glass in his hands, and he stares down at it. “Adam said you were a pervert. For being interested in somebody half your age.”
I let out a startled laugh. “Half my age? I don’t know how old you are, Micah. But you look like adult—likeanadult to me.” I wince internally at having made such a basic mistake when I’m trying to have a serious conversation.
“But I don’t know you,” Micah replies. “You could be a… a serial killer. Or an axe murderer.”
I lean closer. “You shouldn’t trust me, Micah. I’m a dangerous man.” I run my knuckles along his jaw, and Micah doesn’t shy away from my touch. “You should trust yourself, though. Trust your instincts. Does it feel like I’m trying to hurt you?”
Micah tilts his head so that he’s almost nuzzling my hand. “No,” he says softly. He lets himself stay that way for a moment before abruptly pulling back, casting a glance around like he expects to be caught doing this again. “I need to call Adam,” he mumbles, fumbling with his phone as he pulls it out of his pocket.
I motion for him to go through with it, even though I still want to take the phone and throw it across the room to prevent him from ever contacting Adam again.
It’s what my father would have done.
Micah makes the call. It rings for a few seconds, then, annoyingly, Adam picks up.
“Adam!” Micah says. He tilts away from me and holds the phone directly against his ear. “Is everything okay? You left so fast. Was it work? I’m sorry I didn’t notice that you had to leave.”
Like it was his fault.
Like he’d had anything to do with Adam’s abrupt, cruel departure.
I can’t hear what Adam is saying on the other end of the line, but it makes Micah tense up.
“I’m… I got someone to pick me up,” he says carefully. He listens, and he closes his eyes. “No. No, it’s not… I’m… I’m going to be home soon.” Another moment, then he whispers, “But I want to come back home. I?—”
Micah stops, and he pulls the phone away from his ear.
I can see that the call has ended.
I place my hands on the table. I hate that I’m about to make this offer, but I know I need to if I want to earn his trust.
“Would you like me to drive you back?” I ask.
Micah offers me a wobbly smile, but he shakes his head. “No. He needs time to calm down.” He takes a deep breath, then says quietly, “I don’t know how much time, and I don’t know where to go.”
“My condo’s spare room is open,” I say. Then I shake my head. “Or a hotel. I can get you a hotel room somewhere.”
Micah nibbles on that trembling lip, then says, “Your… Your condo. Please.”
I swallow hard, and remind myself to remain calm.
I won’t do anything to scare Micah.
“All right. My place,” I agree.
I’m going to prove that he can trust me.
But it’s going to be so, so hard to hold back.
