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Why didn’t I leave sooner?
What did I do to deserve it?
Why did I keep excusing what he did?
Why did I keep forgiving him?
Why did I, a smart, professional woman, not realize how toxic my relationship was?
In many ways, I feel like a failure, ashamed of that piece of my past. But after all the berating, I focus on the positives.
The biggest positive sits across from me. As I tell my uncle about the abuse, my hands tremble, and my body shakes.
“Your invitation couldn’t have come at a better time.” I sit back and take in a deep, cleansing breath.
That felt good. Like really good. Telling my uncle about what happened lifts a terrible weight off my shoulders. I feel lighter, less burdened. It finally feels as if I can move on.
“Oh, Abby, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” He makes a move to stand.
I think he wants to come to me, give me a hug, but he’s too weak. The cancer gets worse day by day.
I hang my head and stare at my hands. I trace the lines on my palm, remembering the way Drake kissed every inch.
“Please tell me Drake is one of the good ones.” I can’t bear another broken relationship.
And Uncle Pete should know about Drake. As the town doc, he knows everyone in town, and if what he said earlier is true, he knows where the bodies are buried. Metaphorically, that is.
“You have nothing to worry about with Drake.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“How much do you know?”
“Very little.”
I let a man, who I don’t know, fuck me into oblivion. For someone who made a vow to steer clear of romantic entanglements, I certainly stepped right into one hell of a mess.
Relationships founded on physical attraction alone seldom stand the test of time.
That’s my mother speaking. Her words of wisdom fill my head and break my heart. I miss her terribly.
It feels as if I’ve made my first colossal mistake. Unlike Scott, this won’t be one I can run away from. Peace Springs is my future. I’m stuck here.
“Drake is a good man. Gentle. Kind to animals. Good with people. He goes out of his way to protect others. Joined the military, did a lot of stuff he can’t talk about. He’s harder now, smiles less, but his heart is in the right place.”
“Is that where he got the scar? The military?”
“That came later.”
“What happened?”
“That feels like something you should ask him, but as far as whether he’s one of the good guys, you can’t do better than that man. He’s seen a lot, been through a lot, lost more than anyone should. He’s an incredibly hard worker. Manages one of the largest ranches in the local area and still helps out where he can.”
“Like Bert’s llama farm?”
My uncle laughs. “Technically, it’s a llama ranch, but yeah. Ever since Bert’s wife and son died, Drake’s been helping him out.”
Wife and son? “That sounds tragic.”
