I never thought I would be the woman who made excuses for a man, but looking back at it now, I should have escaped when I was a teen. I never should have married him.
Not that I can regret it. Marrying him gave me the two most important people in my life. Still, I should have left sooner before he put his hands on Tanner. That is a regret I will live with for the rest of my life.
I feel the tears start to fall down my face as I let the reality of my situation truly hit me. This is my life now. I can never go back. I will never see my family again. Not that it would matter. They love Evan. They don’t see him as the monster he is. I’m sure they are on his side.
It hurts, though, knowing that he is the monster, but I am the one who had to give up my entire life and start from scratch. I hate him. I hate the life we once had. I hate everything that is related to him.
The rumble of a bike draws my attention to the front of the house. Walking around the corner, I let out a relieved breath when I see Mac getting off his bike.
I try to wipe away my tears, but I know I look like a mess. He looks my way before he walks between the houses, coming to my side.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand moving slowly as he grabs my hand.
I let him, enjoying the comfort of the touch.
God, I don’t even remember when the last time someone other than the kids touched me gently.
“Yeah. Reflecting on the past is all,” I tell him.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shrug, pulling away as I go to sit on the steps of the deck once more. He joins me, the heat of his body close.
“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve what happened. I’m sure you have guessed some of it. My husband isn’t a good man,” I whisper.
“Ex-husband. You aren’t that woman anymore. You are Jane Sheridan now.” He nudges my shoulder.
I freeze. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Am I really not his wife anymore?
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No. You didn’t. You are right. I’m not his wife anymore. I left. I changed my name. The Jane who was his wife is dead and gone. I don’t want to be her anymore. I just wish I knew how to be who I want to be now.” I look over at him.
“It won’t happen overnight. You will still react to certain things. That’s a trauma response, like when I move too quickly and you flinch. That will eventually fade, but not right away.” He moves very slowly as he puts his arm over my shoulder. “As for who you want to be, you are free now. You can be whoever you want to be. So experiment. Cut your hair. Buy new clothes. Go to the bar. Learn to knit. Pick up reading. Whatever you want. I’ll be here to support you.”
How can he be so kind? I didn’t even realize his slow movements were in response to my own reactions. He saw them and altered how he acted to make me feel more comfortable. He is sitting here, willing to let me figure out how to live while being my safety net.
When did this man go from a stranger to someone I look to for comfort? It’s only been a little over a week, but I am starting to trust Mac.
“No bars. Not with the kids, but maybe I will look into some hobbies,” I tell him.
“Good.” He looks up at the sky. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”
I lean my head on his shoulder, taking the comfort I know I should be wary of. I’m so tired, though. Tired of always being on the offense. Maybe for one moment, I can let him take the load from my shoulders and relax.
“It really is.”
We stay like that for an hour, talking about little things, before I finally bid him good night.
As I fall asleep that night, my dreams are of striking blue eyes instead of the dark brown ones that have haunted me.
It’s been two weeks of Jane working at the garage, and it’s not getting any easier for me to keep my distance.
So far, I have let her come to me if she wants to talk. At work, she comes and chats with me for a little bit each day. I like it, but I don’t want to push too far. She is healing. She doesn’t need to be thinking about dating yet. At the same time, I am becoming desperate. I want her attention. I want her to want me the way I want her.
Well, maybe not, because I am utterly obsessed with her. Every little thing she does has my attention. I even find myself hanging out on my back porch most evenings in case she wants to break down like she did before. She hasn’t, but I make sure I am available in case she does.
“You coming?” Gunner asks as he heads to the clubhouse.
