Page 116 of Tiny Fractures
I nod, even though I have no idea what it feels like to have a mom or, hell, even a dad who are so deeply concerned for my well-being.
Cat’s mom joins us in that moment and, again, she hugs me tightly. It still startles me and feels awkward as hell. “You guys heading out?” she asks, looking from me to Cat.
“Yes. Mom. Would it be okay if I spend the night at Vada’s again?” Cat asks, and my heart begins to beat double-time in my chest. I know enough to know that this is Vada’s and Cat’s code for when they’re actually planning to stay over at Steve’s and my house. Cat obviously only took advantage of it for the first time last night, and it was one of the best nights of my life. Having her in my bed next to me, feeling her body, touching her like I had never touched her before, then falling asleep next to her was happiness like I had never felt before. There was finally peace.
“Sure,” Cat’s mom responds in a warm, caring tone, and she hugs her daughter tightly. All this physical affection is something I’m not used to at all. Really, the only physical affection I ever got was when I hooked up with random girls prior to meeting Cat, and even then, it was just sex. There was no hugging, only making out, sex, and then goodbye. I was just filling a void, never really understanding how big that void was until I met Cat. “You guys be safe,” she adds, her face serious, and I can see the worry in her eyes as she looks at Cat.
“We will, Mom,” Cat says, and interlaces her fingers with mine. The warmth of her touch immediately travels up the length of my arm, easing the tension in my shoulders I didn’t realize was there until it began subsiding.
“How are you doing?” I ask Cat as we drive down the freeway, the lights of the other cars and streetlamps reflected in Cat’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” she says.
Unable to take my eyes off the road, I try to analyze her tone for any hint of apprehension, but she sounds like she really is fine. “What did the cops say?”
Cat tells me that the officers told her mom that Adam was in violation of both his probation and the restraining order, which is enforceable across state lines. It was just a matter of finding Adam, who apparently had failed to check in with his probation officer.
“You know what the worst part is?” She looks at me, and her hazel eyes are sad. I don’t respond, letting her finish her thought. “That even though I know I shouldn’t, and even though he did all these things to me, and even though he found me here—”
“Stalked you,” I interrupt.
“Fine, stalked me… I feel so terribly guilty. Like this is all my fault. I mean, I got him arrested; he lost his spot on the football team, his scholarship to Duke. His whole life was upended. And now he might have to go back to jail or pay additional consequences, and it just makes me feel even worse. He would have been better off never meeting me.”
The sadness emanating from her crashes against me like waves, and I veer across three lanes of traffic, take the next off-ramp, and pull my car over on some dirt strip next to the freeway.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I turn off the ignition and get out of my car.
I walk around to her door and yank it open, then crouch down next to her and take both her hands into mine. She looks at me with utter confusion on her face. “Listen to me,” I say sternly, my eyes locked on hers. “You have nothing, nothing to feel bad about. This guy took advantage of you. He called you names. He hurt you, emotionally and physically. For crying out loud, he choked and punched you, Cat, and I bet there are things he did to you that you haven’t told me about. Baby, he abused you.” I can see her flinch. “He abused you,” I say again, really wanting the words to sink in. “This is not your fault. None of it is. He had a choice; he had control over his actions, and he chose to do this shit to you, over and over again. He chose to hurt you, he chose to stalk you even after you made it abundantly clear that you wouldn’t put up with his shit any longer. And if he hadn’t done it to you, he would have done it someone else, baby. You’re a badass for calling him out on his shit.” I’m probably being way too intense with her right now, because I can see her eyes swimming with tears. “Baby,” I breathe, softening my voice, “please, please believe me when I say that you have nothing to feel bad about. He deserves everything that’s coming his way.”
She nods, her head tilted down, and even though I can’t see her eyes, I know she’s crying; tears drip onto my hands. My heart aches for her, wishes for the ability to take her pain away, to undo the past for her. We stay like this for a while, neither of us speaking as Cat cries quietly.
“Please tell me what I can do,” I finally whisper, feeling helpless at my inability to make her pain stop. I hate that she’s hurting.
She doesn’t respond right away, but her tears seem to dry up and her breathing slows just a little. “Can you just drive us to Shane’s, and then can you just hold me?” she says, her voice small, her eyes watery and blood-red from crying as she looks at me with her tear-streaked face.
“I can do that,” I nod, and bring her hands to my lips, kissing them softly over and over again. Finally I stand and reluctantly let go of her to close her door and get back into the car to take us to Shane’s.
The moment I’m back in the car, she reaches for my right hand, leaning across the center console and resting her head against me as I drive. It doesn’t matter that my injured shoulder throbs painfully under the weight of her head against it—I will give Cat whatever she needs right now.
We get to Shane’s a short while later and, without speaking, I scoop Cat up. Her legs lace around my waist as I walk her into the house. Everyone’s eyes are on us when I stride through the door and turn down the wide hallway to take us to one of the smaller bedrooms without so much as acknowledging our friends. Still holding Cat, whose head is buried against my neck, I kick the bedroom door shut and take the four steps toward the large bed that forms the centerpiece of the room. I climb onto the mattress on my knees and softly lay Cat back against the pillows, then lie down right next to her, our bodies facing each other. I pull her toward me as closely as possible, her arms tucked against my chest. My right arm is wrapped around her waist, holding on to her as I kiss her forehead again and again, inhaling her scent. I’m perfectly content lying with her like this all night if that’s what she needs. I would do anything for her. Anything.
Cat
I don’t really know what came over me. I was upset by the whole Adam incident, sure, but I thought I was handling it alright after the cops came to my house and took my statement. They assured me that this situation would be handled, but when they said there’s a good chance Adam’s probation may be extended or that he may even go to jail for violating his terms, I felt overwhelming guilt. And, god, what if he finally makes good on his threat to post those pictures? What if he shares them for the whole world to see, for Ronan to find out what I’ve done? It ate at me all afternoon, and saying it out loud to Ronan suddenly amplified the feeling and I just bawled my eyes out.
Ronan pulled off the freeway, just came to a dead stop on the side of the road somewhere, and got out of the driver’s seat to come around to my side. The way he talked to me, the way he held my hands and wouldn’t break eye contact—it meant more to me than anything. I could see my pain reflected in his eyes, something that I’ve never experienced with anyone. When he used the word abuse to describe what Adam did to me, I think I realized for the first time that, yes, that is what Adam was doing to me. And it’s crazy because Ronan recognized it and he gave it a word when I never could.
There was so much meaning to Ronan’s words as his eyes were locked on mine. In the end he asked me what I needed, what he could do for me, and honestly, I just needed him. So, I told him, and we drove to Shane’s in near complete silence before he carried me into the house and into one of the spare bedrooms, where he went to lie down with me. It’s really not a huge thing, but this small gesture of just being with me, his physical touch—so gentle and comforting—means the world to me.
I lie facing Ronan, my hands on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath as he kisses my forehead, making my eyes fall shut.
“Thank you,” I whisper, breaking the silence for the first time since we arrived, “for… just… for today.”
I realize the day turned into a complete crapshoot. I raise my head to look at Ronan. It’s dark in the room because Ronan didn’t turn on any lights before laying us down, but I can see the reflection of the moon in his eyes.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says quietly. “I’d do it over again in a heartbeat.”
“Does it hurt a lot?” I ask, moving my hand from his chest and touching his bruised cheek gently. It looks painful.