Zach leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. She’d done something to him since he got out of prison. She’d changed his mindset and rewired it until she was the focus of his thoughts.
That didn’t change the guilt he still carried. He’d made her already difficult life harder in more ways than one, and he still contemplated skipping out in themiddle of the night whenever he remembered how much pain he’d caused her.
“Are they about that night?” he asked.
She paused where she’d squatted to pull a pot from the cabinets. “What?”
“Your nightmares,” he clarified.
She stood and put the pot on the counter next to the can of beans. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She was looking for a way to break it to him gently.
“Just tell me. No secrets.”
She glanced at him, then back at the counter. “Lately, they’ve been less about that night and more about something else.”
“Want to tell me?” he asked.
She opened a drawer, found a can opener, and got to work on the beans. “Well, my new job involves listening to a lot of women and children who are running from their abusers. So it’s triggering a lot of memories I thought I’d moved past.”
She was confirming exactly what he’d been sure of all along—that she couldn’t ever truly forgive him for what he’d done to her. If she was still struggling with things that happened to her as a kid, there was no way she was over what he’d done to her in the past.
She poured the contents of the can into the pot and turned on the burner. He was starting to think she was having a private staring contest with the beans when she finally brushed her hands down the front of her shirt and turned to him. “I think I’mhandling it a lot better now that I’m going to therapy again.”
Zach had gone to all the mandatory counseling in prison and everything required by his parole officer since he’d been out, but talking to someone about his mess-ups only made things worse. He’d caused all of his own problems and plenty for other people too.
Lauren, on the other hand, was innocent. She was a victim who desperately wanted to be the hero—of her own story and everyone else’s. She didn’t sit around and have a pity party because bad things had happened to her. Instead, she got up and dedicated her life to helping others. She didn’t deserve any of what had happened to her.
When he looked up, Lauren was standing right in front of him. Her head tilted slightly to the side as she studied him like a crossword puzzle. He hated crossword puzzles.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
There she was again—worrying about everyone else.
“How bad was it? After I did that to you.”
The crinkle in her brow softened. “Why do you want to talk about that?”
“No secrets. Just tell me what you went through.”
She stared at him a few more seconds before she said, “I’ll tell you, but only so you can see how far I’ve come.” Her shoulders rose and fell as she let out a long breath. “Everything was dark. It was like the light and hope had been sucked out of every room I entered.”
Zach’s chest constricted. He knew that darkness all too well. He’d lived in it and claimed dominion over it most of his life.
She wrapped her arms around her middle, and her shoulders hunched as they pulled in. “I didn’t think I’d ever be okay again.” Her eyes squeezed closed as the first sob shook her frame.
Shoot. He’d wanted her to relax tonight, and instead he’d reminded her of the evil she’d been running from every hour of the day and night.
He reached for her, she fell into his chest like she’d wanted to be there all along. She buried her face in his shirt and sobbed.
It was a twist of fate that she was seeking comfort from what once caused her fear. What was he doing to her? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up and make you cry.”
She shook her head, keeping her chin tucked down. “It’s not that,” she said with a hiccup. “I’m glad you helped me heal.”
“Me? Angel, I didn’t do anything.”
Lauren lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “Yes, you did.”
Zach looked into her beautiful eyes. “No. You did that on your own.”
