Romantic love story

Chapter Twenty-six: Small Words

"Do the memories ever stop?" she asked Terry. "Will I ever forget?"

He groaned, as though he didn't really want to answer. "It's taken time--" he paused, then went on-- "I've learned I can live with the memories and not dwell on them whenever they're triggered." He squeezed Madison's fingers so hard they turned white. "Though I've never been able to forget that part of my life, that doesn't mean the abuser has to win. When we live our lives, they lose."

It wasn't the answer she'd wanted, but the way Terry had said it, made her feel hopeful. As though this was survivable.

"For now, I'm not going to ask what else came in that box." He eyed the opened package on the carpet like it was a snake come to life, one that could bite him without warning. "I want to believe you'll tell me when you're ready, but if you never do-- man, this is hard." He ran his free hand behind his neck and looked helpless. "You know I won't force you to tell me."

"Thank you, Terry. Thank you so much."

Turning loose of Madison, Terry nodded, and got to his feet. "When will lunch be ready?" he asked Izzy.

"Give me fifteen minutes." Izzy dried her tears and rubbed Madison's shoulder. "I can have it ready sooner, if needed."

"I'll tell John." Terry headed for the door, cast a glance at Madison, then closed his eyes as though what he saw was too much for him to take. "In times like this," he muttered, "I'm glad there's a hell." Terry pushed out of the room and soon after, the front door slammed shut.

Madison watched as Izzy put on a brave face, moved past the tears and got on with life. They had a family to feed. They went to the kitchen and started lunch, and while Madison helped make a curried chicken salad with the leftovers Izzy had brought, Madison thought about Terry.

All those memories about the Dragon made her think long and hard about men. Terry in particular. Men were still animals, people who couldn't be trusted not to hurt you. But. Some men were obviously different.

Though it pained Madison to on purpose remember the Dragon, she did, and placed Terry beside the monster for a side by side comparison of how they had treated her.

One had no mercy, while the other had more than she'd ever thought possible in a man; one hurt without thinking and did whatever he wanted, while the other was always careful to not inflict pain. One was an enemy, while the other was her friend; one beat and left bruises, while the other held her hand. One told her he loved her just to heighten his own pleasure, while the other had yet to say those words, let alone kiss her.

What was love, anyway? She'd always assumed love meant lust, just another way of a man saying he wanted sex. Love was a demand. It left bruises on your skin and left you feeling dirty, it turned you into someone's toilet paper. Love made you disposable, not worth anything but to be flushed down the toilet with the rest of the filth.

One professed love but gave pain, while the other held back so he wouldn't hurt her.

In Madison's eyes, the contrast was stark, as different as night was from day. The arrival of that box was a reminder that not all men were the same. But what did that L word-- love-- mean? Love was supposed to be something good, wasn't it? When God loved, it was good, but when man loved, it was not.

Unless love was more than what she'd thought it was. A deeply troubling thought. It challenged all she thought she knew about the subject.

When Izzy called the others to lunch, Madison took her plate to the couchroom to think. She didn't want to talk to Terry right now, not while she was trying to figure something out. Something very important. Something that made her panic, and the only way she had of backing away from that panic, was to give herself room to doubt.