Kit (Chicago Blaze 8)

I stop walking and cover my face with my hands. I can’t even breathe. Kit doesn’t like being touched because he was sexually abused. I am the worst kind of human for demanding to know why he felt that way.

“I’m so sorry,” I choke out.

He shakes his head, not looking at me. “You don’t need to be, Molly.”

“I never should have asked about it. And the things I assumed…God, I’m just so sorry.”

Kit sighs softly. “Let me finish telling you about it.”

I nod. He takes my hand and we both start walking again.

“It kind of…escalated from there,” he says, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “Jim made me touch him and he’d put his hands down my pants every day I was in there. I dreaded going to the store after that first time. My grades started to slip at school and I was angry all the time. Jim threatened that if I said anything to anyone, he’d tell everyone I liked what he was doing—that I had asked him to do it. I was so…” His voice breaks and I squeeze his hand. “So afraid of that. I believed him. I felt like I didn’t have a choice.”

“You were a child. He sounds like a disgusting excuse for a human.”

Kit nods. “I see that now. But back then…I was terrified Sara or my dad would find out. I knew it was wrong. I knew Jim was wrong, even though I was so young. One day, when Mom and Lance were home during a break in his treatment, I asked my mom if I could ride to the store with her, and…I told her. I told her everything.”

“That had to be so hard,” I say, my heart bursting with love for him.

“Yeah, it was. But she’s my mom, and I thought…” His voice trails off. “Anyway, she told me it wouldn’t happen again and I needed to forget about it. Never think or speak of it again.”

My mouth falls open in shock. “She told you what?”

“She said my brother was fighting for his life and that was the most important thing right then. That if Jim got in trouble and couldn’t keep his stake in the store, my dad couldn’t afford to buy Jim out and operate the store on his own. And then we’d lose our health insurance, which Lance had to have.”

“I don’t even…” I shake my head, devastated for the little boy Kit was.

“I did what she told me to do,” he says. “I tried to, anyway. I never told a soul about it. Not until today, when I called Sara and told her. And now I’m telling you.”

I let my tears fall. It all makes sense now. Why Kit doesn’t like going home to see his parents. Why it’s hard for him to have a relationship. And why he was so furious when I pushed him to talk to me that night.

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly.

“Don’t be. You weren’t wrong to wonder why I’m this way. I just…I wish I could put it behind me, but the thought of being touched, by anyone…I just can’t. I’m kind of…broken, I guess.”

His voice is so raw. So pained. It hurts to know he feels this way about himself.

“You aren’t broken, Kit,” I say fiercely. “I’d never want to do anything you didn’t want me to. And now that I understand…” I stop walking, taking a tissue out of my pocket to wipe my eyes. “No one has ever made me feel as right as you do. I have social anxiety and I worry I’ll disappoint everyone around me if I don’t give a hundred percent or more all the time. I take things too seriously. I’m awkward and particular about things. But you make me feel like all those things aren’t just okay, but…good.”

Kit stops and turns to face me, taking my other hand in his.

“Those things are part of who you are, Molly. And I love who you are.”

Love. He just said he loves me. Even on this bleak Chicago night, everything suddenly looks brighter.

“And what happened to you is part of who you are,” I say, my eyes filling back up with tears. “How it affected you, that’s part of you, too. And I love who you are with my entire heart and soul.”

Kit breaks into a grin. “You do?”

“I do. I’m miserable without you.”

“Same here. I want to be with you, Molly. I want to make you happy. And I’m willing to try to do the things that are hard for me.”

“No,” I say firmly, squeezing his hands. “This relationship will be come-as-you-are and be loved-as-you-are. I never want you to change because you think it’s what I want.”

He releases my hands and cups my cheeks, kissing me, our cold noses brushing together.

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” I say earnestly. “I wish I hadn’t pushed you so hard, but everything makes sense now.”