Still Not Healed

JACKSON

“Jackson? Are you awake?”

My arms tightened around her. “I am, sweetheart. Something on your mind?”

She shifted away from my arms, and there was an insecure, foolish part of me that wanted to drag her back to me. A foolish part of me that doesn't want to be removed from her.

“Yes,” she answered softly, sitting up, and I could see the worry etched on her face even in the darkness. 

I sat up too, the blanket slipping and pooling around my waist. I searched for her hand in the darkness and interlocked our fingers when I found it, because I wanted to touch her at all times, to feel her warmth so my brain could calm and know this was happening and not just my creative imagination at work.

“I’m all ears, my love.” 

She said nothing for a while, and just stared at our joined hands. When she finally spoke, her voice was thick, low. 

“It’s about this. Us.”

My heart slammed against its cage, all manner of thoughts flying through my head, the next worse than the last. What if she wanted to say this was a mistake? That she was carried away by the moment and didn't mean those words? What if she deci–

“I…” She sighed, rubbing her face with her free hand, and I just sat, frozen, terrified of the next words that might come out of her mouth. “Are we dating, Jackson?”

I swallowed, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb. “If you want us to.”

She raised her eyes to mine, and they were so filled with worry that I wanted to kiss it all away, my fears forgotten. 

“And what about what you want?”

“I want that too, my love. I want us to be together, but the label doesn't matter. What we call it doesn't matter. I just… I just want you, Siri. I don't care what we are as long as I have you.”

She stared at me with her bottom lip trembling, her eyes filling with tears as she asked, “And what about… our problem? About not being seen in public together when we go back home?”

And that made me falter. I looked away, down at my toes, my jaw clenched. I felt her small, warm hand on my jaw, turning my face back to look at her. 

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “And everything you said during our argument was right. The world wouldn't end if people saw us together, if they knew we were really close. I don't believe your life will fall apart because of that. I believe people will still try to stay on your good side.”

“So why, Siri?” I asked softly. “Why… hide?”

“Because I'm scared, Jackson,” she whispered so brokenly that my chest tightened. “I am scared with every fiber of my being. Michael, he…” She inhaled a shaky breath, and I fought to remain still as that damn name was mentioned again. “That bastard left a deep scar on me. And I promise I will tell you about it one day, but for now, I'm trying to put all of that behind me. For four years, I told myself that I was healed, and I’ve moved on, but that’s a fucking lie. I still freeze when I hear his name. A stupid part of me just… freezes in fear and panic.”

I turned to face her fully, cupping her face with both hands and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“There’s nothing stupid about that, Siri. Nothing stupid at all. I…” I swallowed. “The reason I have to have sex before every game is because of my father. It’s been seven years, and that still hasn't changed no matter how much I tell myself that it doesn't matter anymore. Seven years later and I'm still doing this.”

Her eyes were bright with interest now, chasing the panic away, but I wished it wasn't this topic that did. 

“What happened?”

“He…” I looked down at her lap, my jaw clenched. “He scarred me as well, Siri. He made sure he imprinted himself on me before he left our lives. I had a game that night, and he–”

A shaky breath escaped me when I thought of the pain and panic of that rainy night. The horror of finally seeing my father for who he is. My mother’s scream still haunts me to this day.

“He tried–”

His cruel smile as he stared down at my broken body. The sick delight in his eyes and his words that burned themselves into my brain, words that to this day still echo in my mind, just like he wanted. Just like he knew they would. 

“He–”

“Hey, hey,” Siri said softly, grabbing my face and dragging me out of that memory. When I looked back at her, my vision was blurry, and her eyes were bright with worry. “Hey, it’s okay. Come back to me.”

“I’m here,” I whispered with a shaky voice, grabbing her hands still on my face and squeezing them with hands that trembled. “I’m here, my love.” 

“We’ll be fine, Jackson,” she said, trying to be strong even though her voice shook and tears filled her eyes. “One day… one day we’ll talk about these things like they’re nothing. One day we might even be able to joke about them. But for now… for now let’s just live in the moment and let the past stay in the past.” Her voice dropped, the first tear slipping down her cheek. “Even though the past seems to be bleeding into the present.” 

And then she broke; she crumbled right before my eyes, and everything in me froze. 

“I’m so scared, Jackson! I like you. I really like you so much, but what if you look at me differently when you know what happened? What if you’re disgusted by me when you know what I've done? How pathetic feelings made me? How desperate?"

“Shh, shh, shh,” I whispered as I dragged her into my arms, holding her so tightly as she trembled, as if I could keep her from falling apart. “Shh, baby. Don’t ever say something like that again. I’ve done my own fair share of shit in my life. Things I'm not proud of. Things that I might never be able to talk about. We’re humans, Siri. Bad shit is what we do, but it doesn't define us.”

I cupped her face so she could look into my eyes and see how true my words were. I wiped her tears, and she sniffled. 

“I’ve looked into your eyes, Siri. I’ve gotten to know you, and I've seen that the past doesn't define you. I’ve seen how sweet and sharp you are. You are not whatever the past wants you to be.”

I leaned in and pressed a hard kiss on her lips, leaning my forehead on hers and whispering, “You’re my Siri.”