He looks surprised, as if what I’m saying is out of the realm of possibilities, but is it?
“There’s zero chance that will happen.”
“I, um, I have scars.”
“…okay?”
“And they’re, well…I don’t heal well, so they’re raised, and they’re everywhere.” Keloid, my doctor said, the first time one formed. There’s nothing we can do, he added. There are injections and creams and all these protocols that supposedly help, but there’s no guarantee. I didn’t do any of them because at the time, it sounded a little ridiculous for me to worry about anything other than how I was going to survive raising two kids alone.
“Do they hurt?” he asks, curiously but without judgment.
“Not really. They’re just…ugly.” Plain and simple.
“I doubt it. Nothing about you could be.”
I scoff, not answering. He says that because he hasn’t seen them. His head bobs up and down as if he’s considering something, and without hesitation, he jolts up, offering me his hand. “Come with me.”
Okay. I let him lead me somewhere, through the hallway to a door all the way in the back. The walls in here are all green, in my favorite shade, making me feel even more at ease.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, turning to face me.
I don’t have to think about an answer before giving him an irrevocable, “Yes.”
He turns the doorknob painfully slow, the lights turning on as soon as we step in…into his bedroom. But he doesn’t stop. We pass through the neatly organized room lacking color, a complete opposite of the rest of his house. There’s no time tosnoop, because suddenly, we’re in his bathroom, in front of a giant mirror.
Holden places me in front of him as he stands tall and broad, occupying most of the space. He’s so handsome, it hurts. But he’s not looking at himself in the mirror; he’s looking at me.
“Do you know what I see every time I look at you??” he asks, startling me.
“Holden, what are you doing?”
“Answer, Beauty.”
“Mmm, no.”
“What do you see right now? Who do you see?” he asks, holding me by my hips.
I blink but eventually answer. “A woman with red hair and pretty blue eyes.” I love my eyes, so it’s so easy for me to say that quickly.
“Your hard-to-name-colored eyes. Did you know it took me nights to realize sometimes, they’re green, and sometimes, they’re blue, but sometimes they’re gray, too? They’re like a rare gem. Beautiful, just like you.”
I blink again, unable to form words.
“But I also see resilience, kindness, and heart. I see full cheeks and wrinkles around your eyes from smiling so much. I see plump lips I’ve wanted to kiss since the day I met you. They remind me how hard it is to keep my distance when all I want to do is spend my days attached to them.”
I feel every single word.
I feel beautiful beneath his gaze. I feel worthy. I feel powerful.
He slides his fingers under the spaghetti straps of my dress. “May I?”
I nod, not knowing what he’s asking for, but one hundred percent letting him do whatever he wants.
He slides the straps over my arms, carefully slipping them down and allowing my dress to drag over my breasts. My hips hold the dress in place, but it doesn’t matter, because I feel more exposed than if I were completely naked under Holden’s gaze.
He traces the top of my breasts with his knuckles, carefully going over my stretch marks before holding them, pulling a hiss from my lips.
“You have the most perfect breasts, and I knew it even before looking at them, but now, my god, woman, all I want to do is taste them.”
