“And after?” David asked.
I shifted against his body. “Everything changed. I didn’t want to be with my mom, but she was still my mom. I didn’t want to be away from her, either. He had to stay in Dallas for work, so we moved into a new house across town. I got to stay close to Gretchen, and when she transferred to my school, she threatened to beat up anyone who spread rumors about why I’d gone to the hospital. Gretchen told me that I needed to cry and that she knew how I felt, she’d been through it . . . but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I knew I was supposed to cry, but nothing came. So it built inside of me. And built and built and built. The tears, the shame, the pain.”
David continued playing with my hair, soothing and comforting me as he listened. “When did you finally talk about it?” he asked.
I twisted around and steadied myself with a hand against his pec. “I didn’t.”
His eyebrows lowered. “How’s that possible?”
“Gretchen’s caught me in a vulnerable moment a few times over the years. My dad took me to a therapist, but she had no patience for me. After our third session she gave up, and I told my dad I never wanted to go to another one.” I curled my hand against David’s chest. “It’s difficult for me to talk about because I don’t think I ever really got over how suddenly things changed. This is the most I’ve ever said about it.”
David’s eyes grew darker, it seemed, not their normal, beautiful chestnut-brown. “Bill?” he asked gruffly. “Surely you talked about it with him.”
“He knew the divorce was hard and that I hated talking about it. I gave him the bones of the story, and he’s close with my mom—she told him the details of that night, which I only recently found out. But I drilled into him that I hated having it brought up, specifically that night. He respected that.”
“Unlike some people,” David said with a half-smile.
Unlike you.
David pushed me in ways others didn’t, and for some reason, I gave in. “Going through this separation from Bill has taught me some things about our relationship,” I said. “I think I didn’t want him to know more because it would mean showing him my pain and letting him in. And on some level,hedidn’t want to know. It was easier for him to ignore.”
David leaned his forehead in and cupped my jaw. “That will never be me,” he said. “I want you to give me everything, because I can take it. Because I want to take it.” He looked at me earnestly, truth in his eyes. He was strong enough to take it all, to shoulder what I couldn’t.
“I lied to you,” I whispered. “I lied when I said Bill and I had talked about my scar. He never asked, and I never brought it up.”
“Never?” he asked.
“A few weeks ago, I finally brought it up to him,” I said. “But it was too late.”
“Your mom had it the wrong way.Hedidn’t deserveyou,” David said. “He was lucky as fuck that he ever got you, but he didn’t know what to do with you.”
“It was my fault, too,” I said. “I kept him at a distance.”
“It’s not your fault, Olivia. He wasn’t worthy, and somewhere inside, you knew that.”
I wasn’t sure if that was true, but somewhere inside,somethinghad kept me from confiding in Bill. I hoped that something was right to share my burden with David. I turned and rested my back against his chest again.
“Things are starting to make more sense,” David said as he hugged my shoulders.
“What things?” I asked.
“When you told me you’d never experienced an orgasm with anyone, I almost didn’t believe you. But I get it now. You knew it wasn’t right. You need to feel safe and loved in order to open up, even physically.”
“Bill loved me, though,” I said. “I chose himbecausehe was safe.”
“But you didn’t trust him enough to let him have all of you. And you were right not to.” He put his mouth to my temple. “You held back for a reason. In the end, no, you didn’t feel safe with him, couldn’t trust him, and your body knew.”
I took a deep breath and let David’s words sink in. Bill loved me, but he didn’t know me. Not like David did. And David had waited a while for me to figure that out. “That would mean . . .” I let the sentence trail.
“That would mean that you feel it with me. You know you’re safe with me, you can open underneath me, and you do. You open for me like a fucking flower, baby. It’s beautiful.”
I couldn’t imagine anyone else in the world describing me that way. “It’s nice to talk to you about this,” I confessed. “It’s the first time I’ve ever wanted to.”
“You asked me once why it’s so nice walking together,” he said softly in my ear. “This is why. You and I are supposed to be.”
“Do you really feel that way?” I asked, tilting my head to look up at him. “After everything I just told you, and after last night with Bill and Maria, and then my mom—and maybe my dad will have doubts, too. And we might lose Andrew and Lucy. Do you still think this is supposed to be?”
“No question,” he said, smiling.
