“First of all,” she says, trying to put on a serious face, “I don’t think you are a sexist jerk. I was married to one, and I’m intimately acquainted with their behavior. I can say with complete conviction that you are not one. Second, I’m also worried about how Bill will react to this, so there is no way I’m going into that meeting without some backup. You immediately came to mind as a substitute once I learned Jacob would be out this week,and it’s nice to know that you’re concerned for my safety.” She gives me a shy smile, cheeks pink and flushed.
“Third, I don’t like physical confrontations because angry men are scary and unpredictable. You’re a large man, Damon, and I feel safe around you, so I would have likely asked you to be there regardless. I can ask for help when I need to.” She says the last part like she’s trying to convince herself it’s true.
I’ll admit I’ve been contemplating her relationship with Kurt more than is healthy. I’m pretty sure, based on the comments that both she and Jacob have made, he was an emotionally abusive asshole, but the way she talks about their confrontations makes me think the abuse was also physical. My mind flashes back again to that scene outside the arena. That look on her face will never stop hurting my heart. I can’t bear the thought of him hurting her physically.
I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and beat the shit out of that asshole. It would have ended with me in jail, so that’s by far not the best idea, but just the thought of making him pay gives me a sense of satisfaction. Maybe if I had tried harder to be her friend back then, I could have made a difference, since I don’t think she’s had many friends. I reach out and place a gentle hand over hers, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. I’m here now, though, so maybe I can give her that in the present.
“Why do angry men scare you, Jos?” I ask, my voice soft as I try not to spook her.
She bites her plump lower lip, her soft gray eyes shiny and sad. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she replies in a whisper.
“You might feel better if you do. I felt better after talking to you about Lexi.”
She shakes her head, tawny curls bouncing, gray eyes troubled.
“It’s embarrassing.”
“You have no reason to be embarrassed. You are not the one who should be ashamed. Please, Jos, let me in. Just a little?” I plead.
She doesn’t want to meet my gaze, looking down at the table, and struggling with her emotions. I wait, using all my patience, for her to work through her feelings, but my heart hurts as she grapples with her trust issues. Then, right when I’m about to give up, she answers with a quiet firmness that stuns me. Joslyn is stronger than I’ve given her credit for.
“I met Kurt when I was eighteen and he was thirty-two. I was so young and naive. He was older, sophisticated, and quite charming, not just to me but also to my family. My dad loved him. I loved him - at least, I thought it was love. He swept me off my feet, and we were married before I could even blink. I thought I’d found my happily ever after. He was so handsome, and for once, my parents approved. God, I was so young, only eighteen. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I was so damn clueless.”
She shakes her head, revealing her frustration at her younger self. I grip her hand, offering her my wordless support, but don’t interrupt. She takes a deep breath to continue, but still, she won’t look me in the eyes. I can see how painful this is for her. I’m honored that she’s sharing this with me. I want to be worthy of her trust because I know it doesn’t come easily.
“So, I’m sure it will come as no surprise that he wasn’t the Prince Charming I thought he was. It started with little things—small criticisms or judgmental looks. He didn’t like my outfit because it didn’t present the proper ‘Robertson’ image. Why was I wearing so much makeup? Did I think I could eat dessert and still maintain my figure? Things like that. It escalated slowly. He didn’t like my friends or how I spent my time. He didn’t want me to work so I would be available for him, yet he worked all the time and was hardly ever home.”
She sighs, keeping her gaze averted.
“It creeps up on you, you know. Then, one day, you realize he controls every aspect of your life, and you have no idea how it happened.” She pausesfor a second as the memories overwhelm her, but then she shakes her head with determination.
“I left him once. I packed a bag and went to my parents’ house. I was there for maybe an hour before he showed up. They called him. They told him to come and get me as if I were a disobedient pet who’d run away. It was humiliating. I even begged them to let me stay, but my father told me that I was lucky he would take me back after how I behaved. And it was at that moment that I knew they were never going to support me. So, I went back because what else was I going to do at that point?”
The anguished look on her face at their betrayal breaks my heart in half, and the fury I’ve pushed down comes roaring back. I ruthlessly push it down again, but I have to clench my jaw to hold it in. How in God’s name could a father do that to his daughter? It’s beyond my comprehension as a parent. I’m not going to win Father of the Year, but I’ll always be on Lexi’s side. I’ll always be her safe space, if she’ll let me.
I stroke my finger across her hand in comfort, but what I really want is to wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. I want to hold her and tell her I’ll never let anyone hurt her again. She looks so fragile, her eyes wide with pain and unshed tears. Her suffering is breaking my heart because it’s rooted in the past, and I can’t fix that. She keeps going, her voice softer and slightly hoarse.
“I was eighteen years old with only a high school education, and he was a powerful man with millions at his disposal. I didn’t have a job or a place to stay. None of my friends were talking to me anymore. I was all alone. So, I went back. My God, he was so angry that night. I had no idea what I was up against. That… was the first time he hit me.”
She hunches her shoulders, caving in on herself as the tears roll down her cheeks. I can feel the weight of this memory and see the sadness filling her. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to avoid leaping across the table and pulling her onto my lap. I hold her hand because that’s all I’m allowedto do right now, but it doesn’t feel like nearly enough. After a few minutes, she takes another deep breath, wipes away her tears, and continues, her voice shaking with suppressed emotion.
“I was so shocked. No one had ever hit me in my life. That was the night I finally understood that I would never escape him. It was a devastating discovery. I probably would have drowned in a deep depression if I hadn’t found out I was pregnant two weeks later. My daughter saved my sanity. I’m not sure what I would have done without the kids.”
She looks up, and I can see she’s still full of emotion but trying to hold it together. I can’t help myself as I reach out and caress her cheek with my thumb. I want to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go, dry her tears, and make her smile again—that bright, beautiful smile that fills me with warmth. But I can’t. I can’t because she’s my boss. But God, I wish she weren’t.
“Joslyn, I’m truly sorry that happened to you. I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you.”
She gives me a half-hearted smile. “It’s okay. I’m much better now. I wasn’t for a long time, but the kids and I…we did a lot of therapy, and time does heal many wounds. I… I’m not sure that I’ll ever be completely healed, but I’m no longer broken, and I was very broken for a while.”
My fingers continue to stroke the back of her hand as if I can brush away the pain.
“I’m not going to lie; if Kurt Robertson were alive, I’d break his face. Well, more than his face. I wish I’d known all this when I was a rookie… Maybe I could have helped you. At the very least, I could have been a friend,” I say, my voice vibrating with regret.
My rage is simmering just below the surface. I won’t let it out because it’s not the time or place for those feelings. It needs to be about making her feel safe and supported. I don’t want my anger to make her feel unsafe.Later, however, I know I’ll be channeling all my fury into my heavy bag at home.
“You and I both know that never would have worked out. We were both powerless back then. So young. He never would have let me go.” Her voice trails off in a wistful sigh.
That last part is said so softly, and she won’t look me in the eyes again. And I just know in my heart that her marriage was terrible, so terrible in fact that I’m not sure I want to know, because there’s no one to kill, and I can tell that I’m going to want to. It’s all there in the bleak expression on her pale, tear-stained face. I reach my hand out and cup her jaw again, rubbing my thumb across her cheek.
