You Can't Love Me

34. When You Were Young

— Shane —

"I'm here for you." She said and gave my hand a squeeze.

Looking at our hands together, I wondered why it was so hard to just tell her. She's told me everything that I wanted to know about her, let me be there for her, and hasn't even blinked an eye about it.

So, why couldn't I do the same? Why couldn't I let her be there for me as I was for her?

I knew it hurt her when I acted like I didn't know what she was talking about.

When she had moved away from me with a sad expression, I felt a wave of deja vu.

She was feeling the same way I did, when she wouldn't open up to me.

Did that mean she felt the same way about me that I felt about her?

My heart raced with the thought of her falling as hard as I was. It was the happiest thought I'd have in weeks.

Even if, in the end it proved not to be true at least I can say that I made her feel something.

The way she sat here, willing to listen to my sob story proved that she felt something for me. Even if she didn't love me like I loved her.

And that just made me love her more.

I looked up at her round, anticipating eyes and she smiled, encouraging me.

Well, here goes.

"When Aaron and I were eight, and Mabry had just turned four, my dad died." I paused, and took a shaky breath.

It was always hard to talk about my dad.

"Before that, our family was amazing. We rarely argued, we went out almost all the time, and no matter what we made sure we had each other's backs.

"I remember, my mom and dad loved each other so much, that it was hard for them to be away from the other for more than five hours." I smiled at the memory and went on.

"Even when they argued, they made it a point to make sure the other one felt loved. And as an eight year old, I saw that. My dad made sure he taught me that, no matter what happened in life, as a man I had to make sure the people I loved knew that I loved them.

"It's why I am, the way I am. Overprotective to many people, but I don't see it that way. Growing up, I didn't deal with death often. People I cared about, rarely died when I was little...

"You could only imagine, what an eight year old felt, when he woke up in the hospital and had to tell the police and his own crying mother that he saw his dad get tortured and then executed." I felt my eyes burn with tears, but I blinked them away just as soon as they came.

"My father was the owner of one of the biggest banking companies in America. Even though he did have business in the streets too, it has never caused him any problems. Until one night.

"He took Aaron and myself out on a guys' night to play hockey in his old neighborhood and then to go eat. It was the best and worst night of my life. I never knew how much I could hate someone, than I did when I watched my father being tormented and then murdered right in front of my eyes."

A cold shiver ran through my body and I winced from the images, that never failed to haunt me.

Monique wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me close to her.

"It's okay, if you don't want to keep going." She whispered and tangled her fingers in my hair.

I breathed in her sweet, elegant scent and shook my head.