“Gab, you don’t have to,” Benton offers, watching my fingers trace the same spot on his arm over and over.
“I want to. I do trust you, Benton,” I whisper, those three words I’ve been feeling for so long stick in my throat. “He got me pregnant. I think it was on purpose, so I would stop running from him because he knew I’d be too scared to run if I had another life to take care of. He was eighteen; I was sixteen. He had finished high school…. I never got to. After everything, I was able to get my GED and head to college to make something of myself, but that was after the fact.”
“You’ve gone through so much, Gab-”
“Stop. I’m not done.” I don’t want him to pity me. Everything that happened that night was because I was too weak to do anything about my situation. “It was late, and we had just been fighting about something dumb. Like always,” I whisper, remembering that fight all too well. The fight when he told me that I had to let my abusive parents watch my son. No way in hell. “When I told him I was leaving him, he laughed at me because I never went through with my threats. I was so weak,” I whisper. “I tried leaving in the middle of the conversation, so I put Noah in the car and pulled away, but Jordan ran after me and was in the car as I started driving away. He was screaming at me, Noah was crying, I was crying.” I stop and sniffle, bracing myself for the next part. When I told Annaliese these details, I was already numb from the panic attack I had just suffered, but right now, lying naked in bed with the man I love, this feels so raw. “The road was dark, and I didn’t see the tractor. What the hell kind of hillbilly city has tractors crossing the road at midnight?” I feel a tear roll down my cheek, and realize I’m full blown crying by this point. Every time I blink, I can see the wreckage scene. I remember the screams, the noise, and the smell. It’s something I’ll never forget.
“Gabby…” he pauses and takes a breath, but I can’t stop now or I won’t get it all out.
“I hit it. I hit the tractor. Huge fucking tractor…” I pause and shake my head, collecting myself. “Because I wasn’t paying attention, because he was screaming at me, and Noah, my son, wouldn’t stop crying, and I was crying and my vision was blurred because of the tears and I hit the goddamned tractor.” I know I’m rambling and crying and probably making no sense, but I never thought I’d be able to talk about it without having an attack. Now that I’m talking, I’m realizing how good it feels to actually let some of the crazy out.
“No,” Benton whispers, shifting up to take my face in his hands and trying to meet my gaze. Closing my eyes, I try to shake him off. I don’t deserve the pity. I fucking killed two people that night.
“Benton, they died,” I cry. “By the time I came to, there were other people helping and trying to get the door open. My door somehow popped open on impact, I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t have it closed all the way since I left in a hurry… but the baby. My Noah,” I cry. “I killed him, Benton.”
“Gabby, that’s not your fault,” he whispers, his hands wiping away my tears as they fall freely down my cheeks.
“It is, though. It’s my fault because I shouldn’t have been driving that fast. I should have not been driving so upset. I couldn’t get back to them once the flames started. Someone pulled me to the side of the fucking road, and wouldn’t let me get to the car. Jordan, my boyfriend, was screaming… he was stuck in the car. I can still hear Noah’s screams every time my mind starts to wander. I’ve been on so many different medications to try and right myself, but nothing works one hundred percent of the time. I always relapse, I always end back up in my dark place, and I always run. That’s what I do. I can’t stay, because, if I stay, then I start to get attached and I’ve only ever ended up hurting the people I get attached to.” Taking a breath, I slowly move my eyes to his. He’s searching my eyes, shaking his head. His thumb is gently tracing my jaw line, then slowly retreats from touching me and he sighs. I can finally breathe. I can finally be around him without any worries that he will hate me. If he hated me, he’d be asking me to leave right now.
“Fuck, Gabby,” he says, finally rolling to his back.
I know he loves me. He’s not running from me. I have to push back the feelings that he’s trying to figure out how to push me away and try to focus on the fact that he’s still here and I’m still here. I just told him something huge; obviously, he needs time to process it. So, I do the only thing I know how to do. I stand up to leave, but not to run away. To give him space. Because I know if someone I love told me something like that, I would need time to figure out my brain.
“I used to fight,” he says, staring at the ceiling. “I was married, and I would get so upset about things that I’d need a release, so I fought. Underground shit for money. I loved the feeling of kicking someone’s face in and watching the blood fly. I loved the rush of winning.” He sits up and looks at me, like he is just realizing what I’m doing. He doesn’t say anything; he just keeps talking. “I used to enjoy hitting people. Gabby… I never hit my wife. I never hit someone outside of that ring. I’m not like that, and I pray you don’t think I’d ever do that.”
“Benton, I’d never,” I whisper, crawling across the bed to touch him. Just one touch and I feel myself calming. Placing my hand on his cheek, I smile when he closes his eyes from my touch. “I know you love me, Benton. I know it; I accept it. I know you’d never hurt me.”
“Why’d you flinch from me earlier?”
Is this what he’s going to hold on to? The fact that my parents hit me when I was younger? He’s not asking about the two people I killed, he’s more worried that I don’t like the fact that he used to fight. Who is this man, and how did I get so lucky to have him?
“Baby… it’s just a reaction. One I’m not proud of, but I found things hurt less when you brace yourself for it. I learned it at a very young age… so any type of aggression… be it angry voice or flexed muscles… it puts me on edge.” I’m not ashamed to talk about that part of my life. I got out when I could, I always knew what they were doing was wrong, so I laid low and left as soon as I could, never looking back.
“You’re not afraid of me? Because I do love you, Gabby. I love you so fucking much it hurts when you shut me out and don’t let me help you,” he whispers, slightly leaning his face in the palm of my hand.
“I know… I’m sorry. Benton I…” I pause and take a breath. “I love you, Benton.” I see his features lighten, and a smile play across his lips. “I love you, but I don’t really know how to love. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve been having terrible panic attacks lately because I start to freak out that I’m going to ruin someone else’s life, and I love you and Hannah so much that it would kill me to hurt you two,” I whisper.
“Gabby, you’re not going to hurt us. I trust you.” He kisses me softly and pulls back to gaze into my eyes. His beautiful dark brown eyes are radiating love for me, and I just want to curl into him and cry, but I’m not finished.
“Benton, I have PTSD. That’s why sometimes you see a glazed look in my eyes… I have flashbacks, and, lately, I’ve been having a shit ton more. I think it’s because I’m being reminded of what I used to have… what I ruined.”
“Baby,” he whispers, pulling me into his arms. “You’re so fucking strong. Whatever you need… whatever I can do… I’m here for you, Gabby. I don’t want you to suffer alone anymore.”
He sounds so positive that he’s going to be able to make me better. I’m not going to ruin his moment by promising him that no one can make me better.