It takes me a beat to catch his meaning, then visions of him biting the curve of my neck this morning come to the forefront of my mind. My cheeks heat, and I bury my head into my pasta.
“I take it from the way you’ve avoided this place that you regret this morning?” There’s no bite to his tone, but I still worry I’ve offended him in some way.
My head whips back in his direction. “No.”
He arches an eyebrow in challenge.
“I don’t regret it, it was… I’m just not sure it’s wise for anything like that to happen again.”
“Because you’re ashamed?” Bastion’s tone turns to almost hurt.
I shake my head, moving my plate from my lap onto the coffee table. “Because you’re my boss, and I’m staying here right now, and you’re so much older than me, and you’re so much more experienced than me, and…” I trail off before the truth of what scares me the most leaks out.
Bastion leans closer. “And what, Hattie?”
“Nothing.” I will my face to remain neutral.
“Bullshit. What were you going to say?”
My legs bounce as I consider whether I should share with him my biggest source of shame.
He places his hand on my knee, preventing it from moving, and squeezes. “I won’t judge you. I hope you know that.” The truth rings through his words, clear as a bell.
If I tell him, maybe he’ll understand where I’m coming from. “I went to a religious college, and I met a guy there named Rich. We dated for a few years, and he was raised within the church like I was, so we held similar values, so we never… you know.”
“Fucked?” Bastion deadpans.
I nod. “Right, that. But in our last year, he pressured me to sleep with him. He said he loved me and that we were going to be together forever anyway, so what was the big deal? I loved him, and I wanted to make him happy, so over time his demands wore me down, and I agreed as long as he promised to never tell anyone else. I was swept up in what I thought we had, what I thought he felt for me.”
Bastion squeezes my knee, somehow sensing that this next part is the most painful to say out loud.
“After we slept together the first time, that’s all he wanted to do. We barely went out on dates after that, and it began to feel like that’s all I was to him—a vessel for his sexual release. About six weeks after we first slept together, I caught him talking to a friend of his about me.” My chest squeezes painfully even after all these years. “He was telling him all about how we’d slept together, all the details, bragging almost. But the worst part was when his friend asked him if we’d still get married, Rich said that there was no way. The kind of woman he wanted to marry wouldn’t give it up before marriage. He wanted someone pure of heartandbody.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as the familiar shame and pain lance through my body. “It felt like that was my punishment for sleeping with him before we were married. I went against what I knew was right, and I suffered the consequences. Maybe if I hadn’t let him talk me into it, I would’ve passed the test and we’d be married now.”
When Bastion doesn’t say anything, I open my eyes to look at him. His face is burning with pure disdain, enough so that I shrink back from him.
“Hattie, it wasn’t God punishing you. You were just dating a piece of shit. Nothing more, nothing less. Did you ever stop to think that if God was involved, maybe he was saving you, showing you what kind of man this Rich guy really was so that you didn’t end up married to him for the rest of your life?”
I blink several times. Not once had that thought occurred to me. Not once. I was so quick to soak in the shame and blame that I didn’t even stop to think it could be anything else. What if Bastion’s right and everything that went down wasn’t about punishing me for sinning, but to lead me toward the right path?
“I’ve never thought of it that way.” My voice is a whisper, and I look down at my lap, trying to make sense of my thoughts. “I believed in Rich, and he turned out to be a liar and a manipulator. I don’t trust myself to make the right call. That’s why I haven’t dated anyone since we broke up. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again and be hurt like that. Feel like that.”
Something flashes across Bastion’s face, some emotion I can’t quite grasp before it’s gone. “I’m not Rich. I’m not going to use you for my own pleasure and then judge you for it.” He looks asthough there’s something else on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t say it.
I meet his gaze. “I believe you.”
“Anything that happens between us will be your decision. I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t want to do. Itneedsto be your choice.”
“I don’t know what I want right now. I think I need a day or two in order to clear my head.”
There’s no irritation on Bastion’s face. He merely squeezes my knee again before letting go and shifting away from me. “Then that’s what you’ll get.” He turns his attention toward the TV again. “Do you like baseball?”
“I don’t not like it.”
He chuckles. “All right then, stick around and let’s see if I can make a fan out of you.”
I pick my plate back up and set it on my lap, the pasta likely lukewarm again. “Okay, let’s see what you can do.”
