Silver Lining

by E. J. Shortall

  Finally, I manage to pull from his grip and scoot back to sit up against the headboard. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them, trying to gather my thoughts. I know I can’t put this off any longer. I have to tell him about what David did, but I’m so scared. I had hoped I would have had longer.

  “David,” I whisper and bury my face on top of my knees.

  “Come again. What does David have to do with these marks?”

  The tears start flowing again as I remember exactly what he has to do with the marks and my current emotional state.

  “What are you talking about, Amber? What does David have to do with those marks?” Craig repeats, tension radiating off of him.

  I raise my head to wipe my tear streaked cheeks with the back of my hand, trying to force out the words. “David… he… he came round after work yesterday.” I sniffle.

  Craig jerks as though he’s been punched and freezes, staring toward the closed bedroom door. “He… he came to apologise for the way he acted on Sunday,” I continue.

  “And?” Craig’s voice is tight, his jaw clenched.

  “And what?” I ask, barely above a whisper

  “Amber, you don’t get bruising like that from an apology. What happened? What did he do?”

  Dropping my head back onto my knees, I start sobbing again, my whole body shaking. I can’t tell him what happened. He’ll think it was my fault. He’ll think I led David on somehow.

  The mattress dips as Craig sits beside me and reaches over to pull me into his arms. “Amber, you’ve got to tell me, baby. What happened?” he asks again, his voice softer. I shake my head and continue to sob.

  When Craig reaches over to my chin and gently lifts it so I have to face him, I see so many emotions washing over him. His usually bright eyes are dark and tinged with sadness. “Please, Amber. Just tell me, baby. I need to know what happened.”

  With a heavy heart, I take a deep faltering breath and prepare to tell him everything. Angling my head to stare out of the window so I don’t have to look at him, I begin. “At first, he was apologising for what happened on Sunday. Then, before I knew what was happening, he had me pinned against the door and was trying to…” I stop as the tears start falling again.

  Craig’s whole body tenses up. “He was trying to what, baby?” Craig whispers but his voice is tight with barely contained fury. He knows where this is going.

  “He… he… he pulled my top off, and he… he had his hands all over me. He threw me down onto the sofa and was trying to get the rest of my clothes off. He tried to rape me, Craig. Oh God. If Becki and Scott hadn’t come in and tugged him off me when they did, God knows what he would have done.” I bury my head down on my knees again and let the uncontrollable sobs take over as I remember the fear of what David was capable of doing, what he would have done had it not been for Becki and Scott.

  “They knew?” Craig roars. “They fucking knew and didn’t bother to tell me? Jesus.” He jumps up off the mattress, and I hear him pacing across the wooden floor. “They fucking knew… BECKI!” He roars her name, and I quickly lift my gaze to his.

  “Craig, no. I told them not to tell you. I begged them not to tell you. Don’t, please don’t take this out on them,” I plead desperately.

  He looks over at me, searching my eyes and looking totally torn. “Why? Why would you do that? I should have been told.” He lifts his hands to his head and grabs fistfuls of his dark hair. “He tried to rape you for God’s sake. I want to kill him, Amber. I want to fucking rip his head off.” He starts pacing the room again, his chest heaving, trying to contain his rage. “Please, explain to me why I shouldn’t have been told. That isn’t how relationships work.”

  “Because… because I knew you wouldn’t want me anymore,” I wail. “I’m just getting to know you, Craig, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

  I fall to my side and curl up into a ball, letting the tears fall. I’ve lost him. Just when I’d decided to give things a try, I’ve lost him.

  Through my muffled sobs, I vaguely hear Craig’s footsteps moving around the room. I try to prepare myself for the loneliness and utter devastation that will come when he walks out the door, away from me, away from what could have been ‘us’.

  “Amber, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me, baby.” Craig’s soft voice breaks through the sound of my sobs. “Come on, baby. Look at me.”

  I open my eyes slowly and move my head so I can look up. Craig has moved to my side of the bed and is crouching down so he’s looking straight at me, his eyes filled with sorrow, his brows pinched together. He reaches his hand out and tucks my hair behind my ear.

  He climbs on the bed next to me and pulls me into his arms. “I don’t know what gave you the impression that I wouldn’t want you anymore, but I can assure you that is not the case. In the short time we’ve known each other, you have become the world to me, Amber. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could scare me away, okay?” He places a kiss on top of my head and tightens his embrace.

  “But…”

  “No. No buts. I’m here for you, Pingu. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  We lay in our silent embrace for what feels like hours, both lost in our own thoughts. Craig occasionally gives my back a soothing rub and the top of my head a gentle kiss as though he’s reassuring me that he’s there and not going anywhere.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur when I can’t stand the silence any longer.

  “For what?”

  “For what happened, for not telling you, and for being an emotional basket case.”

  He sits up, pulling me with him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to protect you.”

  “I shouldn’t have let him in. He said he just wanted ten minutes to apologise. I was stupid.” I lower my gaze, embarrassed that I’d trusted him after everything he put me through. I’d still wanted to give him that chance.

  “You weren’t stupid, Amber. I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself again. You’re smart, caring, beautiful… not stupid.” When I look up at him again, his face changes; gone is the dark look of anger and regret, replaced with a look of lust. His gaze moves from my eyes down to my lips as he inhales a sharp breath and licks across his bottom lip. “Amber, I…” he doesn’t finish.

  Passion pours from Craig as he nibbles and sucks on my lips, eventually licking across them to encourage me to open up to him. I’m wary at first, but soon lose myself to his seduction and part my lips to allow him access to explore and pleasure, engaging my tongue in his battle of power and dominance.

  When his hands begin to roam down my body and briefly skim over the outside edge of my breasts, I tense up, opening my eyes wide and gulping a breath that sticks in my throat.

  Craig pulls his head up to look at me. “What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” The look of alarm on his face almost breaks me.

  “No, I’m sorry. Just jittery I think.” Why am I so scared? It’s Craig. I trust him completely. I know he wouldn’t hurt me, but the events of the past twenty-four hours have left me emotionally scarred and fearful of anyone’s touch.

  Craig’s shoulders slump forward, and he lets out a barely audible sigh before pulling me into another embrace. “I’m the one who’s sorry, again. I know you’re going to need some time. It’s just that when I’m with you, I can’t seem to control myself.” He draws me in tighter to him and doesn’t move.

  Listening to the steady beat of his heart, my thoughts drift off to the previous evening’s events. David was trying to mark me, to lay claim to me. He didn’t like the fact that I’ve moved on and am now with someone else. He’s nothing but a controlling, manipulative arse. For the first time since it happened, I feel angry about what David did. Fury rages through me. How dare he think he had the right to subdue me in the way he did? What right does he have to do that? To make me fear the touch of those I care for, maybe even love.

  In that moment, it becomes blindingly clear that I need Craig’s touch to wipe away
the memory of David’s. I need him to help me forget, to show me that what I feared was wrong, and that he does still want me.

  I sit up quickly and move to straddle Craig’s legs, pushing him flat on his back. This time, I slam my mouth against his, demanding he opens for me so I can take what I need.

  Surprised by my sudden and ferocious attack, Craig pulls back, gently pushing on my shoulders. “Whoa, baby. Stop. Stop, you don’t need to. I understand. It’s okay.” He continues to hold me back while his eyes search mine, his brows drawn in with confusion.

  Swiping his hands off my shoulders, I push him back and stare down at him. I need this. I need to forget. “I do, Craig. I do need to do this. I want you to help me forget. Show me you still want me. Show me he hasn’t won.” I fall forward again to kiss him, and he doesn’t stop me. He groans and rolls me onto my back as he deepens the kiss.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Your dinner’s here guys. Do you want me to keep it warm for you?” Becki calls through the door.

  Breaking contact with Craig’s warm mouth is hard, but I manage to pull back and catch my breath. He’s looking down at me, unease clouding his features. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

  I take a second to consider how I’m feeling, and when I realise that I feel content and safe laying here like this with him, I smile up at him and arch my neck to give him a quick chaste kiss. “Yes, I think I am. Thank you,” I whisper as Becki taps gently on the door again.

  Moving off me, Craig stands and reaches forward to help me up. “Let’s go and eat,” he says in his usual authoritative tone as he picks up my top and carefully helps me put it back on. He doesn’t realise it, but that simple caring gesture means so much to me right now. I honestly thought I would lose him when he discovered what had happened, but instead, all he’s shown is kindness and concern for me.

  “You are so beautiful, so strong,” he croons and places a soft kiss on my temple before taking my hand and leading me out toward the kitchen for our food.

  Becki is nowhere to be found as Craig serves up our food and opens a bottle of wine from the fridge. I’m grateful to her for giving us the space to enjoy each other’s company, and no doubt to talk about things.

  “Tell me about David,” Craig asks as he takes a bite of some chicken dish I’ve not tried before.

  “Nothing much to say.” I stare down at my plate and push my food around with my fork. I’m really not hungry, and thoughts of David just twist my stomach into even bigger knots.

  “Eat,” he orders and points his fork at my plate. “Come on. You were with him for years. Tell me the story.”

  “It’s a long, boring story, and not something I particularly feel like rehashing right now.” Sighing, I place my fork down on my plate. I really can’t stomach food at the moment.

  “Please, baby, eat something. You need to eat.” He reaches across the table to lift my hand and rubs soothing circles over my palm. “And nothing about you is boring.”

  Begrudgingly, I lift a forkful of rice to my mouth and chew slowly. I feel Craig’s dark green eyes boring holes into me and peer up to see him watching me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. “We met in college when we were seventeen and started dating. We managed a long distance relationship when I went away to Uni, visiting each other when we could and talking on the phone most days. David was doing his apprenticeship at the time. When I graduated, I came back home, got the job at St Marks, and we moved in together.” Peering over, I see Craig watching me, quietly eating his food.

  “I’d loved him for so long and just accepted who he was and was happy living a simple, comfortable life–”

  “What do you mean accepted who he was?” Craig interrupts. “Was he violent before?”

  “What? No. No, he’d never laid a hand on me before. He was just very possessive and insecure and jealous over anything and everything. I guess I was so blinded by what I thought was love for him that I let it pass. I grew accustomed to his mood swings whenever I went out or did something for myself, and eventually stopped going. It wasn’t worth the grief I got after. The only real friend I have is Becki, and even with her, that night at Strobes was the first night out I’d had without David for a couple of years.”

  My God, I really had a pretty miserable existence when I was with him. While he had a social life and would go out, I would be stuck at home reading and doing housework. I really was blind to everything.

  “Looking back now, I can see that he had been repressing me for years, manipulating me to do and act as he wanted me to. When he proposed, I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to start planning and doing all the girlie stuff, dress shopping, picking flowers, choosing colour schemes etcetera, etcetera. I see now it was the fairytail of the big white wedding, rather than the actual fact I was marrying David that had me most excited. I mean, what girl doesn’t dream about her wedding day? I thought David and I would be together forever, so to me, getting married was the next logical step.”

  I can’t believe I’m spewing all this out, to Craig of all people. These are feelings that had occasionally popped into my head in the past, and I’d always slapped them back. I was getting married. I wasn’t supposed to be feeling like that. I thought it must have just been nerves. I was, after all, marrying the man I loved, and that was all that mattered. But was it?

  I guess the writing had been on the wall for a long time that there were serious flaws in our relationship, but I chose to ignore them. I became blind to it, focusing on the fact that we were together and we were getting married. That was all that mattered. Not the fact that for the last two years of our relationship, we hardly ever enjoyed any physical intimacy, and when we did, he was never concerned about my pleasure. It would be a quick fumble in the least pleasurable position possible for me until he would groan at his release, roll over and fall asleep. It was always just about him. Why could I not see it at the time? Our loving relationship was over years ago, and we were just coexisting.

  I take a big gulp of my wine and continue. “After he proposed, I threw myself into planning the wedding, and he gradually started pulling away. Our sex life became monotonous, with him doing what little he had to for him to get his pleasure and very rarely worrying about me. He was away from home longer and longer, finding all sorts of excuses to go out. I confronted him a couple of times about having an affair, but he always denied it, and I stupidly always accepted his word.

  “Two weeks before the wedding, he came home from work one day and told me he couldn’t go through with the wedding. I wondered if he was seeing someone else, but he’d always denied it, so I stupidly just put it down to the fact that he was too nervous and insecure to put himself in the limelight like he would be. I tried to carry on as we were, tried to understand how he was feeling, but the burden of hurt and rejection weighed too heavy on me. A few weeks later, we decided to go our separate ways. As it turns out, as you heard on Sunday, the real reason for it was another woman, and that just adds to the mixed up emotions raging through me.”

  Craig puts his cutlery down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. This seemingly casual action doesn’t fool me; I can see the hardness in his eyes, the tense set of his jaw, and the stiffness in his movements. “The man’s a dick. You deserve to be treated like a princess, not a fucking tart to be used when it suits and tossed aside the rest of the time.” His words are biting. Was that really how David saw me? “You deserve to be ravished, cherished, adored, and any other word ending in ‘ed’ that I can think of that would show you how wonderful and beautiful you are, how special you are. You deserve the world, Amber.”

  I drop my gaze to the table as my cheeks heat. No one has ever said anything like that to me before, and to hear it from Mr Tall Dark and sexy sitting opposite me, having only known me for a little over a week, I’m feeling rather overwhelmed.

  “I mean it, every word. I see the cogs turning in that head of yours, overthinking things because you’re not used to receiving compliments. The guy was and is a
n arse, for treating you the way he did, and for cheating on you and breaking your heart.” He stands up, walks around the table, and pulls me to my feet. Wrapping his strong arms around my waist, he rests his chin on top of my head. “I’m not him, Amber. I’ll happily give you the world, make sure you feel loved, and give you the space and encouragement to find your place. To let you be you.”

  What do you say to that? How do you respond when every instinct in you is saying, “Yeah right. It’s all just words”? Yet coming from Craig, it means something. I really want to believe him.

  I’m not sure where this thing between us is going, but right now, here in his arms, feeling his heart beating against my chest, and his breath softly fluttering over my temples, I feel safe and cherished.

  We stay locked in each other’s embrace for what feels like hours until Craig pulls back slightly and plants a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose and returns to his seat. “Come on. Let’s finish our food before it gets cold.”

  For the next hour, we just enjoy each other’s company, finishing our food, talking and laughing. I don’t think about David and the past. I concentrate on the here and now.

  “What are your plans for the weekend?” Craig asks as we finish cleaning up in the kitchen.

  “Hadn’t really thought about it. Why, do you have something in mind?” I wipe my hands on the tea-towel and turn to face him.

  “I’d like to take you away for the weekend, down to my cottage in Devon, just the two of us, away from work, exes… life.”

  A weekend break sounds wonderful. I can’t actually remember the last time I got away from work and home. It must have been the week in Spain David and I took the year after I graduated.

  “Sounds perfect. I could do with a break away from here. These past few months have been… tough.”

  Craig pushes away from the kitchen counter and grabs my hand, leading me towards my bedroom. “Great. I’ll pick you up after work on Friday, and we’ll come back Monday evening, ready for work on Tuesday.”