Then he walked out the side door, leaving me clinging to the kitchen counter because my legs were too shaky to hold my weight. It wasn't until I heard his car door shut that I straightened and moved to lock the door.
Once I checked all the rest of the locks in the house, I knocked on Sierra's door.
"Come in." Sierra sounded both tired and irritated.
I stuck my head in the door and found her standing next to the bed, wrapped in a towel and holding another one that she was using to dry her hair. "Hey, you okay?"
"Yeah," she answered with a sigh. "I'm okay."
"What happened?"
I could barely hear it but I was pretty sure she growled. "Ben Murphy happened."
"How did Ben cause you to end up covered in ice cream?"
She lifted the towel to her hair and scrubbed as she talked, so I couldn't understand what she said.
"I didn't catch that," I told her.
Sierra groaned and tossed the towel on the end of the bed. "I said that Ben tried to help me throw the trash into the dumpster behind the shop. For some reason, my being short and female equates with complete helplessness in his eyes. We were arguing and playing tug-of-war with two very full trash bags when they busted open. Somehow, I'm the only one who ended up covered in a million gallons of melted ice cream."
"I'm sure he was just trying to help." I recoiled when her eyes turned to me. "What?"
"He's a good guy. I didn't recognize it at first because he looks like a bad boy, but he is. He's nice." She said it as though she really meant that he had fleas.
"Um, I'm confused. Is nice a bad character trait in a man?"
She grimaced at me. "You know what happens to the nice ones when I get involved."
"I don't think I do. Why don't you explain it to me?"
Sierra grabbed a pair of panties out of the top drawer of the dresser and disappeared into the bathroom. "I don't do well with good guys, Cam. I chew them up and spit them out. I need someone who can stand up to me."
"That sounds like it came out of someone else's mouth," I pointed out with a frown.
Sierra came out of the bathroom dressed in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts with the towel wrapped around her head.
"Yeah, well, more than one of my ex's have mentioned it before, so I'm pretty sure it's true," she said as she flopped face-first on the bed.
"Hey." When she grunted, I said, "Sierra, look at me."
She lifted her face up and stared at me.
"You are one of the strongest, smartest women I know. There are some men that can't handle that. And that's okay. That means he isn't the right man for you. But please don't discount someone who tries to treat you well. You deserve a man who wants to take care of you, even if you're more than capable of taking care of yourself."
Sierra groaned and let her face fall back to the mattress. "Okay."
"Don't ignore what I'm saying."
"I'm not," she mumbled into the comforter. "I agree with everything you're saying, but it doesn't make the past go away. Let's just say that Ben caught me on a bad day."
I wished she would open up, but I could tell by the expression on her face, she was locked up tight. I knew she would tell me what was going on with her eventually, but it seemed to take her longer to work up the gumption to talk about emotions. My only choice was to be supportive and wait.
"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
She lifted her face up and rested her chin on her hand. "Yeah. I know. I'm just...not ready to say it out loud yet," she admitted. "I'll tell you about it. Just not tonight. Tonight I want to drink a glass of wine and go to sleep. Anything but think."
"Okay. Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll listen. Want me to bring you that wine?"
