Beneath the Scars

In order to have her, though, I had to tell her everything—risk everything—in order to move forward. But if she chose to walk away? My heart beat frantically under my ribs at the mere thought.

Elliott butted my chest, a low whimper in his throat. I stroked his great head, realizing I was still kneeling on the damp ground and he was waiting for me to lead him.

I looked behind me in the direction of the house, where I’d left her alone and upset.

Megan was waiting for me to lead her, as well, to open up to her and let her in.

That was if I hadn’t broken our fragile bond.

I stood up, brushing the wet dirt from my pants, calling Elliott and walking farther into the forest. I needed to clear my head and give her time to calm down. Witnessing her emotions made me react in strange ways. I lashed out in fear, pushing her away when I should have been pulling her close, holding her as tight as I could as I told her everything. While I let out all the painful memories and allowed her tender strength to begin healing me.

I knew she was strong and could do it; she was stronger than she knew. She had suffered a huge loss because of her ex and she still pushed forward. She refused to allow me to ignore the feelings between us, winning me over with her sweet gestures and thoughtful gifts, which made me want to explore whatever this was with her.

She made me smile. She made me feel.

She gave me something I hadn’t felt in years: hope.

She made me want to be better—for her.

Instead of telling Megan all that, I had treated her to a hearty helping of my temper, and pushed her aside.

Even after all these years, I was still a bastard.

I broke into a slow jog, needing the physical release.

An hour later, I emerged from the forest, winded but calmer. I stopped on the deck, my throat catching as I noticed a light in the house at the end of the beach. It hadn’t been on earlier.

Walking into the house, I knew. It felt cold, empty. The silence surrounded me—intense like a painful scream.

I had pushed her too far. I was too late.

Megan had left.

I didn’t even know if I could get her back.

My heart ached when I realized I wasn’t sure I should even try.14MeganI wrapped my hands around the coffee mug, trying to stop the shaking. I couldn’t get warm. I couldn’t stop the waves of nausea that kept rolling through my stomach as I thought about Zachary’s detached, cold voice, how empty his eyes had been. He had dismissed my emotions without a thought and walked away. I couldn’t stay there, in his house; the words he flung at me echoing in the empty room.

“You know where the door is.”

He had made it clear, his need to have space and me sitting there waiting for him, still upset, would do neither of us any good. He knew where I was. If he wanted to talk, he could come to me.

I wiped away the tears that flowed down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure he would come and find me. His anger had been so quick to flare, his defenses thrown up without a second thought. The gentler side to his personality disappeared in a heartbeat. The man who’d stared at me, cold and removed, wasn’t the Zachary for whom I was falling.

He was right; we barely knew each other, yet my feelings for him were so strong, they shocked me. My body hummed with electricity every time he was near. I wanted to touch him all the time; the way he stayed close, I thought he felt the same way. I knew he wasn’t used to being touched, but the more time we spent together, the more comfortable he was becoming with reaching out to me. He’d hold my hand or play with my hair; small, simple gestures most people took for granted, but for Zachary, were huge steps. I loved watching him talk, and listening to his laughter, something that seemed to come easier to him the past few days. He told me I made him feel lighter, almost normal. To me he was normal. When I looked at him now, all I saw was Zachary: a man learning to live again, one capable of great tenderness and warmth when he allowed himself to open up. What I didn’t see was the angry, pain-filled man with scars, who lashed out to push people away.

That was until he reemerged when we were arguing.

The sky darkened, night beginning to fall, and still he hadn’t come to me. I thought when he knew I had returned to Karen’s house and he’d calmed down, he would find me, but I waited in vain. Unable to take the silence, I turned on the radio and wandered the house, restless and edgy. The weather forecast came on predicting another storm headed our way. With a groan, I leaned my forehead on the cold glass while I stared out onto the beach below, wondering if that meant another migraine for me. There was such unusual weather—not only here—but all around the world. Zachary had mentioned it had been a colder, snowier winter than he’d ever experienced, and so far the spring had been one huge rainstorm after another.