Why? That night in college when I was drunk and needed to use the restroom. The shower curtain was closed, as is typical in most people’s homes, so when it moved while I was washing my hands, I froze.
That’s whenhereached out and…
“Hadley!” A panicked voice shouts my name, pulling me from the consuming memories. “Hadley, are you okay? Does anything hurt?” Braxton. His sweet, breathy sound wraps me in a hug, ever so gently calming my breathing. I’m home. With Braxton.
And I landed on top of him when I fell…
I try to jump up, but that’s extremely hard to do when you are on top of a man in a bathtub with a thick shower curtain tangled around you.
“Uh,” I scramble for words while trying to get myself out of this awkward situation.
“Hold still,” he says. I feel his hands grasping at my hips and have half a mind to shove him away. The other half wants him to come closer.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you off me so we can get up.” He laughs—laughs!—at our current predicament.
“I can get myself out, thank you very—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know you can. But I like getting to do it.” His hands tighten around my hips as he lifts me off him like I’m a mere child, setting me outside the shower where my legs refuse to stand. I collapse to the ground. “Good gracious, woman. Did you break your legs in that fall?”
Stupid weak knees. All he did was lift me off him by my hips and talk about how he liked it. Nothing to get all flustered over. He’s had to pry me off him in the past plenty of times during our wrestling matches as kids.
And my knees worked fine then.
I lean against the wall, taking steadying breaths.
“Sorry about that,” I begin. “I normally keep the shower curtains open.”
He laughs. “I’ve noticed in the past. Should have remembered that before closing myself off in here. Why do you do that anyway? It causes mold, you know.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. The memory is still there, tugging at the edges of my brain, but being with Braxton is like anchoring my soul to solid, unshaking ground.
“I don’t want to go into detail, but it involved what I told you about back in Chesapeake.” Silent moments pass. “But I’m okay. Seriously. I’m not going to go into panic mode like last time. It helps with you being here…” My voice trails off at the admission.
“I’ll always be here, Hadley.”
Tears stream down my face. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”
“It’s already forgiven,” he says, shattering and mending my heart at the same time somehow.
“You’ve known me for so long,” I say. “You know my scars, nightmares, and demons. But you still love me. Why?” The words come out muffled through the tears and my hands covering my face.
“Ultimately, because God loves. I can only love people, you included, because He loves me.He loves you.” He emphasizes that last part.
“Then why did He give me this pathetic, crappy life?”
“Is your life really that bad, Hadley?” The question stops me in my tracks. Yes, my past really is that bad. But now? Look where I am. I have my own business and brand, best friends who love me, a man who I know would give me the world should I ask, and a mama who may or may not be getting right—the jury is still out on that one.
I swallow. “No, I guess it’s not.”
“You see, God doesn’t promise us perfection. He promises that He’ll be there with us through it all. The good. The bad. And the awful.”
That’s a God I would be willing to learn more about. Braxton is so sincere, and I do want to talk with him more about it later.
But that’s a thought for another time.
Because I’m supposed to be in the middle of a war.
