by S. Moose
“Wonderful.” He sits down on the couch, and I do the same. “Everything good other than that?”
“Yes. No major worries.”
“Good. I like the sound of that. So, mind telling me what the fuck’s up Jennifer’s ass?”
“I’m assuming you talked to Zoey?”
“Yeah. Reagan and Zoey went out to lunch all week, and today, she mentioned how Jennifer called her a gold digger and Dawson heard?”
“She’s not happy about us dating, but there’s nothing she can do about it. Dawson’s happy, and that’s where her concern should be.”
The shit-eating grin spreads on his face. “You do realize who your ex-wife is, right?”
“Fuck off. It’ll be fine.”
“You need to protect her from Jennifer. You know what she’s capable of doing. When provoked, she can be venomous.”
I should be pissed that my best friend’s protective concern of my girlfriend is crossing the line. Only I’m not. I know they’re good friends, and he doesn’t want to see her hurt, just like I don’t.
“I know, and trust me, I have it under control.”
The fresh apple scent fills my office, and I look over to see Reagan coming in and sitting down next to me. Immediately, I wrap my arms around her and breathe her in.
“Dude, are you smelling her?” Remy jokes, making Reagan laugh.
I choose to ignore him and focus on Reagan instead.
“How was lunch with Zoey?” I ask her.
“Good! She’s so nice, and we’re planning a girls’ night with Aimee on Friday.”
“Aimee?” Remy says with a crooked smile. “She’s your best friend, right?”
“Yes,” Reagan slowly responds. “Why?”
“I suggested we set them up and do a double date,” I respond.
“Hmm,” Reagan says as she leans back on the couch. “I think she’d like you,” she says to Remy. “She’s in a dating funk, and she might be swearing off the men of Chicago, so let’s do this date soon!”
“Whatever you want.”
Remy mimics a whipping gesture, and I flick him off.
“I’ll get right on it. Just wanted to stop in and say hi since I haven’t really seen you this week. Don’t worry so hard.” She kisses my cheek and waves to Remy before leaving my office.
A feeling washes over me, and suddenly, I’m at a loss for words. Other women would have thrown a fit and threatened to break up. Not Reagan though. Never Reagan.
Her scent lingers in the air, and I miss her.
“What a pussy.” Remy laughs. “The look on your face”—he bends over, slapping his knee—“you look like someone stole your dog.”
“Fuck off. Don’t you have work?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather be in here with you because you’re just so dreamy.”
“You’re an idiot.”
After wrapping up at the office, I pick up Chinese takeout and head home. It’s nice to leave at a normal time and be able to spend a few hours with Reagan and Dawson. Since I had to work a little late, Sander took Reagan back to my apartment to be with Dawson.
When I get home and put down the food and my briefcase in the kitchen, the sounds of laughter and running upstairs get my attention. I walk to the start of the stairs, only to find Reagan chasing Dawson down the stairs. Each one has a Nerf gun in their hand, and a few darts come flying my way. When Dawson’s in reach, I grab him and run with him to the living room while Reagan’s yelling at us that we’re cheating and she’ll get us.
“Dad! Hurry! Go faster!”
I run a little faster, zigzagging through the apartment, when Reagan yells, and I quickly stop to see that she’s on the ground, holding her arm. I put Dawson down and rush over to her.
“You okay?”
“Ow,” she whines as she leans her head on my shoulder. “I fell on my hand, and it hurts.”
“Let me look at it.”
I try to look at her hand when she jumps up on her feet, and both of them gang up on me, shooting darts and laughing.
“Oh, this means war!”
We spend the next hour running around and shooting one another. At one point, they turn on me again until I make them surrender by threatening to toss out dinner.
During dinner, Dawson talks about how school’s going and his upcoming field trip to the museum.
“Hey Reagan. If my class needs more people to come with us, do you think you can come?”
I’m stunned that Dawson’s asking Reagan and not me or Jennifer. Usually I attend the fieldtrips with Dawson. There was one time Remy did and he said being with kids for that many hours scarred him for life.
I look at Reagan and see the smile on her face. It’s the same smile I love. The same smile I know she’s happy he’s asking her.
“Of course, Dawson. Have your teacher call your dad and then we can talk.”
“Yes!”
When we’re done eating, Reagan helps Dawson with his reading, and I clean up the kitchen. I’m hoping she’ll spend the night again, but I won’t push her. I dry the counter and feel her arms wrap around my middle.
“Dawson’s asleep.”
I look at the time, and it’s only eight. “A little early for him.”
“He’s tired from all the running around. I hope it’s okay that I put him down.”
“Of course, baby.” I turn around and kiss the tip of her nose. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
With two glasses and a bottle of wine, we sit outside on my balcony, wrapped in a blanket. We’ve been out here for a little while, and she hasn’t said anything. I’m not sure where her head’s at.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“We’ve been getting so close, and I don’t want any secrets between us.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I place my hands on hers and move a little closer. I can see her lip trembling, and she’s not looking at me.
“Please, just let me talk. Don’t interrupt me. Don’t touch me. I know you’ll want to comfort me and hold me in your arms, and trust me, I want that, too, but what I need from you is just for you to listen. You need to let me be and let me come to you when I’m done. This is so hard, but I think you should know,” she whispers.
I take in what she’s saying and pull away from her, making sure I’m giving her enough space.
“Three years ago, I felt like I was on top of the world. Everything was going my way, and I was so happy. My mom and friends were my life, and I loved everything and everyone. People on campus knew me as the sweet girl with a big heart. I’d organize fundraisers and volunteer, and I worked hard in all my classes. My life was amazing. I thought nothing bad could happen. One night…” She pauses and slows her breathing.
I don’t dare touch her or soothe her. This is her journey she needs to talk about, and I’ll be waiting with open arms at the end.
“I remember the night as if it just happened.”
She steadies her breathing and looks down and then back in my eyes. I can see her hesitation and pain, the way her tears cloud those beautiful eyes I love so much.
Her skin pales, and she continues, “Aimee and I went to this party, and I thought, Sure, let’s have fun and drink. I was having fun, and then I saw one of my favorite customers from the coffee shop. He and I were close. We were dancing and flirting. Then, something felt off, and toward the end of the night, I ended up leaving with him so he could take me back to campus since I couldn’t find Aimee or anyone else sober enough to take me. I know I should’ve called a taxi, but he offered to take me back and swore he was sober. Something ate away at me. I should’ve listened to my instincts.”
Her hands cover her face, and the sobs wrack her body. I have no fucking idea what to do. I feel so fucking helpless. The anger inside me boils. If she tells me what I think she’s going to, then I’m going to fucking lose my mind.
“He took me back to his apartment and raped me. I�
�d said no and tried to get away. He was so strong, and I finally gave in. I remember lying there, not fighting back and listening to him when he asked me if I liked it.” She laughs and shakes her head. “I didn’t. I hated it.” She covers herself with her arms and leans back on the lounger I have outside. “He stole part of me that night, and I became a zombie, as if I didn’t truly exist any longer. I hated everyone. I missed my graduation, left Boston, and ignored everyone. When I found out I was pregnant, I felt guilty for feeling what I felt. Then, a few days later, I lost my baby and I felt relieved because I wasn't sure how good of a mother I'd be knowing he or she was created because of him raping me."
I remain still, internalizing her words, and doing my best not to reach over and comfort her.
"I used to have nightmares, but then I got stronger. When I got stronger, I became cold and isolated. It was a long three years alone.”
Tears flood her eyes, and my chest feels constricted. My own breathing is ragged, and I haven’t said a word. We’re both frozen, and I’m afraid of what she’ll say next.
“Please don’t pity me. Even though I was raped, I’m so much stronger now, and I’m ready to let my mom and Aimee in. You might not realize this, but you being here with me right now, loving me, shows me that I matter. So, thank you, Drew. Thank you for doing all of this for me.”
I hold out my hands to her without touching her, and I wait. My heart races, and I hold my breath, silently begging for her to allow me to hold her. She grabs my hands, and I automatically pull her on my lap, holding her close as she curls into my chest. Her head rests over my heart, and I allow myself to relax as I get lost in her scent. Our arms are wrapped around one another, and I whisper how sorry I am in her ear.
“I’m so sorry you went through this,” I whisper, trying my best to hold back the shudder in my voice. I’m desperately trying to control my emotions, and I think about what’s best for Reagan. She doesn’t need to see me fall apart. I’m supposed to comfort her, and be strong for both of us.
“You’re so special, Reagan. When you walk into any room, there’s a light that emanates from you and shines on everyone. You touch people, and since you came into my life, all I hear is how wonderful you are. I know that wasn’t easy, but thank you so much for trusting me and opening that part of you.”
There’s nothing I could’ve done to prepare myself for what she told me. Hearing her talk about her life before the rape and the actual rape then her miscarriage rips my heart to shreds. A fury I’ve never known courses through my veins. Her trembling body steadies, and I don’t know what to say. I’ve always known protecting her is a priority, and now that I know this, my protectiveness over her has turned obsessive. The need for her to be safe is strong. Whoever this is better fucking hide and never come out, but I won’t dare ask her who did it.
“You have me now,” I finally tell her. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise you. I love you.”
My mission is clear. I’m going to love her, protect her, and cherish her—not because of what happened, but because she deserves everything great in life, and I’ll give that to her.
30
Reagan
Last night was by far one of my hardest nights. But having Drew know my past, having him understand my darkest times makes me feel free. There will be no more hiding behind the image I’ve since created. I can be weak in his presence and know that he understands. I can be distant, and he’ll understand the need for my alone time.
But it also makes the fact that I need him so much more evident. He grounds me, and he gives me hope. He gives me purpose.
When I wake up the next morning, I reach over and notice Drew's not next to me. Slowly, I get up, and walk out of the bedroom and hurry downstairs when I smell pancakes and bacon.
As I walk from the bedroom toward Drew’s kitchen, the aroma only intensifies, and my stomach growls without warning. Without announcing my arrival, I stay hidden in the entryway and watch Dawson and Drew make breakfast together. The radio plays a melody that’s familiar to me, but the words are something I’m not sure of. I smile uncontrollably when I hear the both of them singing softly to the music—something about loving someone so deep that you feel like you can’t breathe without them.
I love watching Dawson with his father, the way he looks at him as if he’s his hero. I swear it always makes my ovaries feel as if they could explode. Complete and total swoon each and every time.
When I can’t stay away any longer, I move in closer, and as if they can feel me, they both look back over their shoulders, wearing matching smiles.
“Good morning,” Drew is the first to speak.
“We made breakfast,” Dawson says happily as he spins around with a pancake on a spatula. It whips outward, spinning like a mini Frisbee just before splatting to the floor near the chair he is standing on.
For a moment, Drew and I just stare at the pancake on the floor, waiting for Dawson to throw some type of fit or something. But, when his laughter fills the room, Drew and I join him.
“Did you see that fly?” he asks as he turns to lift another pancake from the pan.
The moment Drew realizes he’s about to purposely toss it across the kitchen, he quickly snatches the spatula, pancake and all, from him.
“No way, bud. Once is enough,” Drew says with a chuckle before placing the half-cooked mound of batter back on the griddle.
When he turns back to face me, I can see that look in his eyes. You know, the one someone gives you when they really have no idea what to say. I feel nauseous because it’s one thing I never wanted from Drew. My heart aches, and suddenly, I can’t look at him.
“Is there something I can help with?” I ask as I bend down to lift the pancake off the ceramic tile. I move across the kitchen, toward the garbage can. I continue to occupy myself, making it easier to avoid Drew.
That is, until he steps up behind me and wraps his arms around me, caging me against the sink where I am currently washing my hands.
“What you shared with me…” he whispers.
I close my eyes as my heart begins to race.
“It changes nothing.”
“Then, why do I feel as if it has changed everything?”
Drew quickly grips my hips and twists me around to face him. He places his hand beneath my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “I love you,” he states with intensity. “You are the strongest person I know, and if anything has changed, it’s that my love for you now is only stronger.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I tightly close them in an attempt to fight against them.
I feel the wetness run over my cheeks just before Drew’s thumb swipes it away. That’s quickly followed by a gentle kiss against the small place his finger just was.
“I love you, Reagan—so much, it makes my knees weak.” I hear his deep intake of breath. “Nothing will ever change that.”
I move forward, burying my face in his chest, as his arms circle me, holding me. His muscular arms keep me safe and I love how it feels around my body. I’m taking every single moment of it and etching it to memory. I love this man more than I have ever in my life loved another. He is my rock, my heart, my salvation.
“I love you,” I tell him in return, simply breathing him in, allowing him to calm me.
I can hear the laughter in Drew’s voice before I even enter his office. The door is ajar, and his obvious excitement is hard to miss. The strangest thing is that, when Dawson and Drew are happy, it makes me happy. It doesn’t matter how bad of a day I might be having or how down I might feel, their happiness is infectious.
I stand just outside his office door, listening to his deep chuckle filter out the small opening, and I can’t help but smile myself. My love for this man still overwhelms me at times because I never imagined I’d feel anything even close to this.
“It was great hearing from you, Fin,” I hear Drew say. “Get in touch with me when you arrive in the city in a couple of weeks, and we’ll get together for drinks. It’s be
en a long time, and I look forward to seeing you again. Catch up on old times and all that.” There’s a pause, followed by him saying sounds good before Drew says good-bye.
I carefully press my palm to his office door and begin to move inside just as he places his phone on his desk. His gaze shifts to meet mine, and almost instantaneously, he offers that look that always seems to make me feel completely grounded. His eyes soften, a genuine smile covers his lips, and his head tilts to the side just slightly.
Then, my heart races with pure elation.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he coos, standing from his chair. He moves around his desk.
Once he’s around the front, he leans back and holds out his hand to me, and I waste no further time before going to him.
“Good morning to you, too,” I say just before he pulls me in close and presses a chaste kiss on my lips.
It’s for the best because had it been any more, then it might have been hard to refrain from it going further. Drew’s addictive, which I have quickly found out. With him, I’m like a raging teen, as I can’t get enough.
“I missed you last night,” he adds as he reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “You’ve spoiled me, allowing me to feel your body against mine for so many nights. It’s never easy when you decide to stay at your place.”
“If it’s any consolation, I never sleep as well without you as I do with you holding me,” I tell him as I smooth his tie in order to busy my hands.
Being this close to Drew is never easy because I can’t keep my hands off of him.
“There’s nothing better than you holding me through the night.”
“I agree,” he adds without pause. “It’s one of my very favorite things.”
My body warms as I think of our last time together. The way he crawled over me in the early hours of the morning and made slow, torturous love to me. No words spoken, just the message our bodies relayed, as he looked deep into my eyes, as if he could see straight through to my soul.
