How can she say that when the problem started with her?!
I blanch in shock, swallowing hard to get past the lump in my throat. “I can’t—I couldn’t. I couldn’t get comfort. I didn’t want it.”
“How is that different from me?” She frowns and sits up to look down at me. “How is it okay for you to hurt and not let us help you heal, but it’s not okay for me to do the same thing?”
I can’t tell her that my hurts surfaced because they can’t accept who I am. Who that is now may not be exactly the same as who I was, but that’s because I am making different choices, not because I’m a different person. My past makes it hard for them to reconcile our future. It’s the same problem that I had with Sari and Wilde in reverse. They couldn’t accept who I became without thinking it changed who I was.
It would be nice if the people who love me allowed me to grow and heal as a person without judging me.
This stupid situation makes me think I’m doomed to love people who will never understand me. There is a core person inside me that does not change simply because I develop a mutation that gives me claws or decides not to do things I did before.
I’m still Deli; I’m always Deli.
The ‘Deli’ I am now is the girl who chose to tomcat around and have scads of lovers like Mata Hari. She’s also the one who only wants her family right now, and could be the one who wants more in the future. It doesn’t mean that one Deli died; it means that as our world changes, so do we. We don’t have to take the eraser to everything that came before to live now.
You can’t always paint in black and white—colors and shades of gray make the picture so much richer.
I sigh, knowing she won’t understand. No one understands this but Rafe. But I have to explain why I asked Taurus to let me be so she gets why it’s not the same as her taking off. “I’m not—I feel unworthy since last night. I can’t let either of you help me because I don’t deserve it. I didn’t want to subject you to me wallowing in misery again.”
She moves from the seat to the floor, and I struggle not to shrink away. Talia will take that wrong, and I can’t handle that right now. Unfortunately, I can’t let people touch me when I feel dirty. “That’s Sari’s line, you know. You’re stronger than that. You’re better than her and more amazing.”
“I can’t help what I’m feeling. I feel dirty. Used. Gross.”
“Why?” Her large grey eyes blink at me, and I lower mine to the carpet.
“I had this moment of clarity. I was listening to the ocean song as we talked, and I realized it didn’t matter what I intended everything to be. If everyone thinks of me this way, my entire picture of myself is someone else. Your reflection isn’t what you look like—it’s how others see you. I suddenly saw a picture of a foolish girl who thought she was being free, having fun, andmaking friends. The accurate reflection was the village bike they all passed around to make themselves feel good. I realized I deserved all the stuff that followed, even the worst of it.”
My mate frowns and shakes her head. “You’re not a whore and you’re not a village bike. You’re Taurus’ wife. You deserve nothing less than him loving you for the rest of your life.”
I pick at the loose threads in the carpet and shrug. “It depends on who you ask. I couldn’t let anyone help me because of that feeling. I didn’t want anyone to touch me because I’m dirty. That’s all I can tell you.”
“How do you feel now?”
Wrapping my arms around myself, I murmur, “I’m processing. I went out and did something that made me feel better. It helps when I feel like I accomplish things that have nothing to do with all the idiots.”
“Oh, no. Not another unscheduled?—”
“No, I have plenty of actual files to work on. Unscheduled is for ballistic fits. I was only self-destructive. You gotta learn to gauge my raged-out emo fits accurately,” I say, giving her a lop-sided grin. “Work helps me do better at regulating those.”
“I’m glad. We’re both awfully proud of you.”
I wish I could believe that as much as she seems to.
A small smile curls my lips regardless because saying it better than not, and I tilt my head. “I still feel wonky, so don’t interpret my not being touchy as a slight. I still have some… icky black strings of goo I need to get rid of.”
“I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Not saying things doesn’t seem to help us. I was repressing more than I knew.”
That’s true, but the amount of things I think none of us are saying is massive. Rafe and I are still cradling our deepest wounds because we can’t even admit them to ourselves or each other. Talia definitely has some shitty things making her behave the way she does. Taurus is damaged from any number of situations he’s never told anyone and it’s not just the time she got shot.
We’re all the walking wounded.
“At what cost, though? Working through things is good, but we’re not doing it well enough if we keep injuring one another.”
I frown again, closing my eyes as I realize that for her, working through things only applies to things affecting her or the things that she wants to work through. The ugliness hiding behind the black door will never be a welcome subject.
“I’m getting better. I feel like a chunk of that betrayal sandwich is getting digested.”
