The temperature warmed the last day of winter break, settling nicely in the seventies. Sam and I took advantage of the unseasonable weather by spending the Sunday afternoon in a park near his house, enjoying the fresh air.
We spent an hour doing homework and talking about nothing of particular importance until Sam stood up abruptly. "I do not want to sit anymore," he said decidedly. "Let us go for a walk."
I groaned. "No, I'm tired!"
"Lazy bum," he accused.
"I am not! My workout with Mina was brutal yesterday." She'd been away for most of break, just arriving back in town the day before, and had convinced a few of us on the team to meet up for a workout. I'd gone for the social aspect, mostly. After having two weeks off from volleyball practice, though, I felt the pain of the exercise more acutely than normal. "I'm sore!"
"Walking will loosen you up," he said.
I groaned again, but thrust my hands out. Sam grabbed them and hauled me up so we could stroll through the park. It was on the edge of woods, full of green smells and softly crunching grass beneath our feet. I had our AP English study guide pulled up on my phone, and I read it out loud as we walked.
I wasn't paying attention to where we walked as I focused on the phone, so I startled when I stepped completely into a shadow. I looked up and started to panic, the temperature dropping in the shade and my blood froze with fear. My body paralyzed as I looked down the tunnel I had just stepped into, fear shaking my vision. I had to fight the pull into the past. Memories surged into my mind, images blinding me with terror.
Useless. You're utterly useless.
I heard my voice whisper, "Sam."
Useless, unlovable princess.
"Come on, Abby. It is only a little darkness," Sam teased without turning around, oblivious of my fear. He simply wanted to explore the tunnel under the road.
"Sam." My shaking voice echoed off the cement walls, despite the fact that I was whispering to avoid it. The time my cries had echoed back in my ears again and again, his growl of laughter at my fear, it all flooded into my mind.
That's right, go ahead and cry, Princess.
"I don't do tunnels," I breathed.
The memories in my minds' eye flashed too fast, and it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I started to hyperventilate. I leaned forward, curling in my shoulders and hugging my stomach in protection as my breathing grew erratic. Stop! Stop thinking, stop remembering...
I twisted around away from the darkness and ran.
You can't run from me.
Sam must have realized that I was serious, and I heard his feet on the pathway as he followed after me. He caught up quickly, and grabbed me from behind, just like he used to do it. I knew it was just Sam there in the present, but I could only see his face sneering down at me.
I fought, something I knew better than to do, but I fought.
You can't fight me, Princess.
Sam let go, holding his hands up in surrender. Panic laced his voice when he asked, "Abigail? Abigail, what is the matter?"
"Don't let him touch me!" I sobbed.
"Abigail, there is no one around," he said, hands still out as if he wanted to touch me in a reassuring manner, but was worried I'd fight him again. "What is wrong?"
I didn't respond. My mind was spinning with fear and memories. I thought I was past this, I thought I was okay. I'd been deceiving myself, denying the depth of my trauma in my mind. It was the only way I could survive. I'd learned to be strong in other areas, but something about the tunnel was triggering me in a way I hadn't felt since it happened.
"Breathe, Abigail," Sam said with anxiety in his voice. "Take a deep breath."
Another sob escaped my chest. Sam finally reached out and rubbed my trembling back, desperately trying to comfort me. It didn't help, just brought more memories. His hands. What his hands would do.
You're mine, you're mine, and you'll never get away.
"It is just me, Abigail. Just Sam."
I was too tired to fight Sam's gentle hand off. I shook in Sam's grasp for a while, but the memories finally let me out of their grasp. His voice slowly receded from my mind. The world slowly started coming back, the remembered scent and taste of blood being replaced by the fresh air around me, and the tears on my face.
I slipped out of Sam's embrace, still shuddering, and collapsed down on the ground. I put my face in my knees, waiting for the images to stop, the adrenaline to calm. He wasn't there. Nothing was going to happen. It was just Sam.
I don't know how long I sat there like that, not saying a word. Just sniveling with silent tears streaming down my face. My heaving breaths finally slowed, then returned to normal. Sam had sat down next to me, but thankfully, he didn't touch me again.
There was no way around it. He needed to understand.
I took a few more steadying breaths before attempting to speak. I didn't pull my face up from my knees, just mumbled into the wet fabric of my thrift-store jeans. "I guess I have to explain, don't I?"
"Yes," he said, voice gentle. "That would be helpful."
It was the last thing I wanted to do, admit what happened to me to Sam. I didn't want to tell him...
Only the basics, I could only tell him the basics. That's all I could do. I couldn't go into everything because I wasn't ready to tell anyone else about that, but Sam deserved to know something. Maybe then he'd realize that he'd made a mistake about wanting a relationship with me.
I finally sat up and bitterly wiped the wet tears off my face. I didn't look at him, but I felt Sam's eyes watching me so seriously, so worriedly. I feared he wasn't going to understand.
"Abigail," he begged, having no idea what was about to come his way. "What in the world just happened?"
I whispered, "I don't want you to tell anyone about this, okay?"
"Anything. Just tell me what happened."
I hesitated, looking down at my hands. Finally, in a stale voice, I told Sam what I'd told no one willingly, only when it was beyond necessary.
"Before I moved here, I was in a physically abusive relationship with an adult. The first time he attacked me, the first time he really beat me, we were exploring an abandoned tunnel near my house and hit me there."
"What?" Sam gasped.
"I really thought I was okay, I didn't think that I would have an episode like that—but being in that tunnel a minute ago, everything just sort of flooded back."
"WHAT?"
"Sam," I said, exasperated. "I was abused, okay? Bad things, Sam. He did bad things to me."
Sam's tempered flared. "No. Not you," he shook his head violently, his voice raising, fists clenching until his knuckles went white. "He did not hurt you."
"Yes, me."
"NO! NOT YOU!"
"I'm not saying it again."
He stood up and stormed about in outrage. Amidst a long stream of shouted French and English profanities, he hit a tree, and bark went flying all over the place, leaving a deep hole in the trunk.
So much for being inconspicuous about the immortal strength thing.
I just sat, face back in my knees while he spent ten long minutes pacing around in a huffing rage. He finally sat back down next to me with eyes glassy with tears. My heart twisted at the sight. "I am so sorry, Abigail."
I didn't say anything. There really wasn't a response to that. We sat in silence for a minute. "Well. Now you know."
"Why did you not tell me earlier?"
I snorted. "What was I supposed to say? When? Just sitting around, watching a movie: 'Hey, can you pass the popcorn? Oh, and by the way, I was abused when I was younger.'"
"Yes." He put his face in his hands, knowing it was a lost cause. "I am so sorry."
I paused, absent-mindedly plucking blades of grass. "Sam, do you understand now?"
"Understand what?"
"Everything. Me," I whispered. "Why this is so hard for me, everything. I'm so messed up, I'm just scared. Everything about this, and you, it scares me."
"Abigail, I would never hurt you."
Tears filled my eyes again. He had to understand. "I know, Sam. But that doesn't change what's happened. Please, just try to understand. I'm trying, I really am. But I can only do so much so fast."
"We need to get you... I do not know, a therapist. You need to see someone." He was slipping back into his formal speech, his French accent coming out in full force like it always did whenever he was stressed or overwhelmed by something.
"I did, for a while," I admitted. I hated it though, so when I moved to Hartford, I conveniently forgot to find a new one.
Instant rage crossed his face again. "Who was it, Abigail? Who was the bastard that hit you?"
I shook my head. "Someone I never want to think about again."
"TELL ME."
I fought his compelling power, too determined to let him in. "It doesn't matter. He's in jail."
Sam's face paled. "It was that bad?" he whispered, terrified. "He abused you so badly he was convicted?"
I looked away, rubbing my arms.
"Oh, Abigail," he said, voice infinitely sad.
"I just want to forget, Sam. I just want to put it in the past and move on. Please, let me move on."
His face softened at my tears. "Abigail," he murmured. He leaned towards me, as if he wanted to put his arms around me. I realized I wanted it. I wanted him to hold me. It would help us both.
Slowly, I slid closer and rested against him. He put his arms around me gently, despite the strength I knew he held in his muscles. His cheek rested on my head and I leaned against his firm chest, nuzzling my wet face into his neck. Initial fear rippled through me, but it quickly subsided, and something began to slowly simmer within me, something I hadn't felt before.
Comfort. Sam comforted me.
"Hold me," I begged, starting to cry again, not out of fear, but out of longing. And he did. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before, love. It felt so good. "Don't let go."
"Never. I will never let you go," he murmured into my hair. "No one is ever going to strike you again, Abigail, I swear it."
And I finally knew. The warmth spread further throughout me. It was no longer avoidable, and I willingly leaped in. I told him in between tears, "I love you, Sam."
His hand rested gently on my cheek. "Je t'aime, Abigail. Je t'aime."
My tears didn't last long that time. I gently pulled back once I had calmed down completely, his arms loose around my back. I wiped bashfully at the wetness on my face, using some tissue I had in my pocket. I looked up at him and met his gentle gaze. His eyes were even warmer than usual, soft and looking at me with so much feeling. "Are you alright?" he said, affection and emotion thick in his voice.
"Yes," I said, dazed, my face clean again.
I slowly put my fingertips to his face, smoothing them down his skin. He shivered at my touch, goosebumps rising on the skin of his arms where he held me. Leaning towards him, I pressed my mouth to his and kissed him. He sucked in a quick breath, nearly a gasp, then kissed me back, soft pressure against my lips, caressing. And it felt so good, so right.
I leaned back in the grass, pulling him down with me. He rested beside me and kissed me back agonizingly slow and sweet and loving. And in that moment, everything was just so right. My love for him simmered in the kiss as I deepened it, and I felt his answering love in the way his mouth and tongue moved with mine.
When the kiss ended, I pulled back and looked him in the eyes, both of us a little out of breath. The setting sun hid behind his head, edging his body in warm light. "I love you," I told him again. It felt so good and freeing to say it, to feel it.
"Good." And then he kissed me again, tender and soft, with so much promise.
We laid back in the grass together, me resting against his chest, and just watched the sky turn darker and darker. He held my hand, cradling it gently like I was the most precious commodity on earth. As his fingers stroked my skin, I marveled that my heart had never felt so close to someone before.
A while after sunset, I realized I had dozed off in the comfort of it all. My skin was pricked with goosebumps from the cool night air, but I was so at peace with Sam that I hadn't noticed it. "Hey Sam?"
Stroking my hand, he hummed in response. I smiled at the vibration of it beneath my cheek. "Yes?"
"I need to go home."
Sam sighed, but nodded and pressed a kiss to my hair. He gently pushed me up from his chest and stood.
He drove me home in companionable silence. I'd heard before that the best sort of partner was one you could spend quiet time with without feeling the need to fill the silence with chatter. I felt that comfortable silent companionship with Sam.
There wasn't much we needed to say after what we'd done that evening. Everything just felt right, like the entire universe had settled into place after years of being askew. Sam reached over and held my hand while he drove, and my thoughts turned to earlier.
"You're the first person I've told voluntarily, do you know that?" I said quietly. "Besides Birdie, and the therapist."
"And your family," he stated. I shook my head in disagreement. He looked back at me, shocked. "You didn't even tell your family? Your mother or your guardian? How could they not realize it was going on?"
"He would have killed me if someone found out," I replied, shaking my head again. "I told you my family wasn't home a lot. If anyone suspected something, it must not have seemed very serious, because no one ever said anything."
"You didn't even tell them afterwards?"
"I told you, we've never really been close. But it's fine." I snuggled deeper in my seat, pulling my feet up with me. "I'm learning to start fresh each day."
Sam just squeezed my hand.
He walked me to my front door, reaching over and kissing me gently once we got there. I leaned against his chest, resting against him as I drank in the moment. We shared a few sweet kisses, so charged with affection and poignancy.
"Goodnight," he whispered against my skin.
"Night," I returned.
He finally pulled back, gazing softly into my eyes. He smoothed his fingers over my cheek, giving me one last kiss on my forehead before going back to the car.
A stupid grin on my face, I went inside. The weight of my happiness was too much, so I slouched back against the door, running my fingers over my lips that had just been pressed against Sam's. A giggle raised within me, a happy sound I couldn't control.
Sam and I had finally kissed. It was such a long time coming, and I was stunned that I didn't regret it.
It had just felt so right, and there was no going back. Even if I was given the chance to go back and change it, I wouldn't. Sam was the best thing in my life, and I wanted every bit of him.
And he wanted me back. It left me feeling stunned, but overjoyed. He loved me, and the world couldn't have felt more right.