My Safe Place

by Steph Poe

  "I figured you needed these." He shakes the bottle and its contents rattle.

  "If I haven't said it lately, I freaking love you. Thank you so much. This pretty much feels like the worst headache I've ever had." I grip the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger and squeeze to try to eliminate some of the discomfort. "I'm so sorry. I really never drink that much."

  He opens the bottle of ibuprofen and tips three of them into my hand and gives me the glass of water. I throw the pills in the back of my throat and swallow them down with about half of the glass of water. The cold liquid feels so good going down my dry throat. I go to set the glass down, but Cal stops me and flashes me a look that says, "Drink it all." So I finish the rest in one big gulp. He takes the glass from me and sets it on the bedside table before taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to me.

  "No need to be sorry. You were having fun. I really enjoyed watching you let loose." He rubs his hand over my back.

  "I am so embarrassed. I can't believe I puked in front of you." I place my head in both of my hands. I feel his hand come up and brush my hair back.

  "Well, at least you made it outside and didn't get any in my car. If you puked inside Lola, I'm not sure I could've forgiven you." My head snaps up at his comment and I look at him with my mouth wide open and brow squinted. He has a grin on his face.

  "I'm kidding, babe. Oh, you look so cute with that pissed-off and hurt look going on." He pulls me closer into the side of his body and cradles me. I feel his lips brush the side of my forehead.

  "Ha Ha Ha," I mumble in a sarcastic tone. He thinks he's funny, but I beg to differ. Still, I lean in closer to him. He loves that car, but he can't hold Lola like he holds me. Besides, Lola definitely doesn't have nice boobs like I do. I realize I'm comparing myself to a car and cannot believe that I'm a little jealous of Lola, which is absolutely ridiculous. Plus I'm ruining the feeling I have when I'm wrapped in his arms. There's nothing like it. I want this feeling forever.

  "You wanna talk about last night?" Cal asks.

  "I do, but I really need to get ready for the bridal show." I look over at the black clock on the nightstand and the digital red lights read seven twenty-three. "I just realized I didn't bring any clothes here. I need to go home and get ready, and I'm already running behind," my voice is frantic, but contradicts my movements, which are nonexistent because I'm too comfortable in his arms.

  "I think you just need to move in with me. Then we wouldn't be having this problem. Instead, I'd be walking you into the bathroom right now, and showering with you." His lips hover over my ear when he speaks in a husky voice. Then they are moving to my neck and creating that electric feeling that runs right into my belly. I can almost forget my headache completely when he's kissing my neck.

  I tilt my head to the side to give him better access. My eyes fall closed and I feel a moan escape from my throat. It's all too much. I'm overwhelmed with feelings that I can't even explain. The feel of his body against mine calls out to all my physical needs, but his words frighten me for some reason. My belly is a mix of fluttering from being wonderfully turned on and add a bubbling of nervous anxiety. I seem to get his combination a lot with Cal. So much physical and emotional attraction, but also fear of the unknown. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of our future.

  I practically begged him to label our relationship last night, and it seems to have opened him up more than I anticipated. He said he wants to marry me someday and now he's saying I should move in with him. Oh my word, what did I do? I just wanted him to say that I was his girlfriend or lover. Then there would be no doubt in either one of our minds that we were exclusive.

  I was definitely not expecting marriage and moving in together to be discussed within an eight-hour time frame. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I do love Cal, more than I've ever loved another man. Then why do my thoughts always return to Chris, and how I loved and trusted him, but was betrayed by him? I don't really believe that Cal would ever hurt me like Chris did. Still, I have trust issues and an inner struggle over my part in the incident.

  Why can't I get that fucker out of my head? Why have I let him affect me so much?

  I get a sudden revelation. I've never forgiven Chris. As much as I want to hate that asshole forever, is that really helping me? No, it isn't. In fact, it's making my life worse. It's affecting my relationship with Cal. It's making me not trust Cal, and it's drowning me in guilt, believing that it was my fault, too.

  Forgiving Chris wouldn't be saying that it's okay that he raped me. It would be saying that I'm finally free to release the hold he has on me. The hold that the memory of that night has on me. I would forgive him and forgive myself.

  There is no way in hell he deserves my forgiveness, but it isn't for him. It's for me. I know what I need to do. Now I need to find the strength to do it. My appointment with Dr. Jansen is Monday. I'm hoping that she can help me find that strength.

  "I can't resist you when you kiss my neck like this, but I really have to go. I'm gonna be late." I turn around to face him and my lips press firmly into his. Before he can deepen the kiss, I break away, patting my hand on his chest gently and turn to go find my shoes. Thankfully, he lets me go. I really don't want to be late. Ashton will give me hell if I show up late on top of being hung-over.

  I find my heels by the door. Cal must've placed them there last night. I groan at the sight of them. My feet were killing me last night and the thought of putting those bad boys back on kind of infuriates me. I sit down on the wooden bench that sits on the tile entry way. When I reach down to grab the torture devices, I see a pair of tan slippers. I smile as I reach for them and slip them on my feet. They're lined with a fuzzy fleece material that feels heavenly on my sore feet. I hum in satisfaction and look up to see Cal. He's standing a few feet away from me with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at me with one eyebrow raised.

  "What? My feet hurt." I shrug my shoulders at him. "Is it okay if I borrow them?" I flash him a huge grin, showing all of my teeth.

  He shakes his head and comes over to me. "They're all yours." I stand up and put my arms around his waist and give him a grateful squeeze.

  "Thank you. You're a lifesaver for my feet." I feel his chest vibrate with laughter. He pulls back and looks me in my eyes.

  "Hey, are you okay?"

  "Yeah, why do you ask?"

  "Well, you seemed a little taken aback when I said you should move in with me. Should I not have said that?" He looks worried.

  "No, I'm fine. I just really don't like to be late. We can talk more about it tonight." I reach up and kiss him on his cheek.

  "Actually, I'm picking my mom up from the airport tonight. It'll be late, so I was just gonna take her to dinner and come back here for the night. Is that okay?"

  "Oh, of course. I just forgot that she was coming in tonight."

  "Do you want to join us for dinner?" he asks.

  "Oh, no. I don't want to impose." I study the hair on his arms as I speak. "And I know it's been awhile since you've seen her. I want you to have time to catch up with her." Truthfully, I'm a little nervous about meeting his mom. I really want her to like me. I remember back to when I met Chris's mom. She did not like me for whatever reason. I guess she thought I wasn't good enough for her precious son. I wonder if she even knows the kind of man he really is.

  He must be able to read my thoughts. "Oh, babe, she's gonna love you. You wouldn't be imposing at all. In fact, I've already told her a lot about you. She's very excited to meet you." He rubs his hands up and down my arms.

  "Did she like all of your other girlfriends?" When I say this, I realize I haven't really asked him much about past relationships. I know about his college years, but nothing about women in the years after.

  He looks right into my eyes. "We haven't talked about my past relationships. I'm sorry about that. Since we've met, I've wanted to focus on you. Truth is, no woman in my past has even come close to you. I've never felt this way with anyone else." He reaches u
p and caresses my cheek. I lean into his touch, smiling at the sweetness of his words.

  Then I remember how late I am. "It's okay. Let's talk about it later. Cal, I really need to leave. I'm gonna be so late! Ash is gonna kill me." I grab my clutch and drape my jacket over my arm. I reach out to grab the doorknob.

  "So, how are you getting home?" Shit, I forgot my car isn't here. I turn and look back at him and see that he already has his shoes on and keys in his hand.

  "Will you take me home, please?" I smile at him with my megawatt grin.

  "I called you a cab. I'm running to get coffee." He has a serious look on his face as he twirls his keys, but his eyes are sparkling.

  "Ha ha ha. You think you're funny, Cally boy," I tease him using Ashton's little nickname she gave him last night.

  He rolls his eyes at me, but then smiles with those soft, full lips. I love his teasing, although I'll never admit that to him.

  "All right let's go, woman."

  Chapter 27

  Cal drops me off at my house and we agree that I'll come to his apartment tomorrow night to meet his mom and brother. I'm even more nervous now because I didn't realize I'd be meeting his brother as well. Two people to impress! In fact, probably the two most important people in his life. No pressure, none at all.

  I take care of Tubbs and then shower and dress as quickly as I can. I want to forgo the heals today in favor of comfy ballet flats, but decide my stilettos looks so much better with my black skinny jeans. A white button down shirt topped off with a simple gold necklace completes my outfit. I don't even have time to make coffee, which I know I'm going to regret later. I rush out the door and get into my car.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I get inside my car. I love driving. Something about driving while listening to my favorite music just soothes me. I have time to think about everything rolling around in my head. I turn on my "Slow Country Jams" playlist and back out of my driveway as the deep, melodic voice of Russell Dickerson comes through the speakers. I love this song, and it's actually pretty appropriate for how I feel.

  I sing and tap my fingers against the steering wheel. This would make a great first dance for a bride and groom. Perfect song. Love it.

  I turn at my exit to get on to the interstate. The sun is shining brightly today. It's warm for this time of year. Indiana weather in the fall is so unpredictable. One day it will be seventy degrees and sunny, and the next day, forty degrees with freezing rain.

  I wonder idly what Cal is doing right now. I hate that I had to leave him with so many things left unsaid. At the same time, I'm grateful because I need time to process my feelings.

  I know in my heart that Cal would never hurt me like Chris did. I've made the decision to forgive Cal for lying about his past. I love him. I'm in love with him. Marriage and moving in talk shouldn't be scaring me so much right now.

  Does this fear mean that I don't trust Cal? I mean, I trusted Chris. I trusted him. He betrayed my trust. I trust Cal. I trust him. But what if he betrays my trust? How do I know for sure that he won't hurt me months or even years from now?

  Chris was great in the beginning. He was a gentleman, opening doors, and paying for dinners. He said all the right things and made me feel important. He made me feel like I was the only one around. He never even looked at other women when we were together. We had months of a really good relationship. It was comfortable, until he started getting jealous of my friends. He never wanted me to go out with Ashton. At first I thought it was sweet that he would miss me too much if I was away from him.

  Ashton tried to warn me, saying it was a little strange that he wanted me all to himself. I ignored her. I thought she was just jealous because I was spending all my time with him and not with her, like I used to when I was single.

  Then, when I finally introduced him to my mom, she was lukewarm to him. I didn't understand. Couldn't she see how happy I was with him? Was I happy with him? At the time, I thought I was. I didn't even notice the control until it was too late. I was too far gone for him to even see the abuse.

  He would make comments to me. Little things, like telling me I shouldn't wear a certain shirt to work because it was too revealing. Or that I should try red lipstick because he liked it, even though I had never worn red lipstick before. I hated lipstick. I strictly used lip balm, until he suggested the lipstick. Then he would get upset when I wasn't wearing it. He would tell me I look so much better with the lipstick. I had three tubes of red lipstick so I was never without it.

  I became obsessed with pleasing him. I wanted him to be attracted to me and to love me. So I dressed how he liked and wore my hair up all the time because that's how he liked it; he told me he wanted to be able to see my neck.

  So when he suggested we try some different things in the bedroom, I agreed because it pleased him. It was almost like I was hypnotized. Until the moment when I was lying on the bed, hands and ankles bound that I saw him for who he really was. It was like the spell was broken and I could see clearly for the first time in almost a year. By then, it was too late. He didn't listen to me. He didn't stop and I paid the price. I paid heavily, all because I allowed it to happen.

  I feel a tear trickle down my cheek and I reach up to wipe it away with my finger. When my mind goes there, back to that place where he controlled me, it makes it hard to consider forgiveness.

  Despite all of this, I need to forgive him, and forgive myself. I need to move on so Cal and I can explore this relationship and see where it goes. I want us to have a real chance. I feel like we are on the right track, but there are still some barriers.

  I trust Cal enough to let him tie me up and make love to me. I thought by doing that, I was leaping over the biggest hurdle. I thought that meant everything would be okay and I could move on from my past. That was such a hard thing for me to do. Maybe my biggest issue is really the fact that I put so much blame on myself.

  Is my real issue trust? Am I really considering that I don't trust Cal? Maybe it's fear holding me back. The fear of not being what he needs. Cal deserves to have my whole heart, but a piece of it was broken years ago. I'm scared that it may never be complete again.

  Cal makes me feel like my heart could be whole again, and God knows I want it to be. I think about my mom and how much I wish she were here to help me through all of this. I think back to when I asked about my non-existent father.

  She only talked about him once, when I was sixteen. I had finally worked up the courage to ask about him. We were at the table eating my favorite dinner of hers, shepherd's pie. She made the best shepherd's pie. Her mashed potatoes alone were so smooth and delicious, never any lumps.

  "Did you love my father?" She looked up from her plate and her eyes were surprised. She wasn't expecting my question.

  "Yes. I did love him"

  My mom wasn't a woman of many words, so I knew that if I wanted more information, I would have to ask the questions.

  "Did he love you back?" I saw hurt in her blue eyes.

  "I thought he did." She was silent for a minute, and I could see the pain and struggle in her face. "We were both so young."

  I was afraid to ask my next question.

  "Did he know about me?"

  She looked towards the window and inhaled a deep breath. "I've been trying to prepare myself the last sixteen years for this. When you finally wanted to know about him. I never expected it to be so difficult." She looked down into her dinner plate.

  I hated seeing her so uncomfortable. I grabbed her hand and told her we could talk about it another time, but she insisted it was time that I knew the truth.

  "I was eighteen and had just graduated high school. I wasn't going to college. Your grandparents didn't have the money and well, I never really cared for school anyway. I wanted to get a job, any job really, so I could get my own little house to take care of. Maybe have a little vegetable garden, and a porch where I could drink coffee and do my crossword puzzles." I smiled. My mom loved doing just that. I found her outside almost daily,
sitting on the patio with her mug of coffee and a book of crosswords, which she would always do in blue ink. She always seemed most content out there. I would catch her looking off into the trees and she would be tapping her pen against her lip, like she was deep in thought figuring out the clue in the puzzle.

  "I started working at a canning factory, inspecting the cans for damage. Boring work, but I didn't mind it. All I wanted was to do my job and get a paycheck so I could get my house. I didn't have a boyfriend. In fact, I never had one in school either. I wasn't really interested in them. I was kind of a loner. I preferred my mystery books and crosswords to people most of the time. I think your grandparents were convinced I would become a nun."

  I had laughed at that. I couldn't imagine my mom as a nun. She liked to read, but I never saw her read the Bible. She was into mystery and suspense novels. I don't think she would have made it in a convent.

  "Sometimes I went to this little diner after work. Your grandparents always ate dinner really early before I would get off of work, so I was on my own for dinner. I usually always had the same thing, meatloaf sandwich with steamed veggies and water to drink. I would have my book of crosswords with me, too. Well, one night I was stuck on a clue. It's strange, but I can even remember what it was. The clue was just one word—romance. The answer was three letters. I was staring at the puzzle and I, for the life of me, could not figure that one out. I kept thinking, love, which is obviously not a three letter word. Then I heard a man's voice saying one word, "Woo."

  "Excuse me?" I looked up to the end of my table into the eyes of the most handsome man I've ever seen. He had light brown hair that was trimmed short. His eyes were so crystal clear blue. He wore camouflage clothes, looking like he was on leave from the Army.

  "Twenty-two down. It's 'woo'." He pointed to my puzzle. I thought I had never seen a more handsome man. I couldn't believe he was talking to me. I was so awkward. I remember just staring at him, my mouth was probably wide open. His eyes stared right into mine.