The memories invade my mind; it’s the same nightmare that has haunted me for years. The pain is unbearable. It shoots up my leg like battery acid being poured over my bones. I sit up on the bed and grab my ankle. Tears pour down my cheeks as I try to rub the anguish away. It’s been months since I’ve had a spasm like this. My fingers dig along my shin, rubbing my muscles. It's my brain reminding me what happened.

I try to be quiet since Ethan is sleeping next to me, but I whimper through the pain. I don’t want him to see me like this. Not when we have spent the last few hours making love to each other. From the couch, to the floor, to the kitchen counter, we took our time making up for lost years.  Seeing me like this now will only bring up the past for him.

“Hey.” He turns to face me. His voice is low and hoarse.

“Go back to sleep,” I whisper, wiping away my tears. Slowly, I try to move away from him so he can’t see what I’m doing.

Ignoring my request, he sits up on the bed and grabs my leg. “Where does it hurt?”

I don’t want to admit to any pain, but swallow back my instinctive denial and lower my head. “Around my ankle and my shin.”

His strong hands rub my ankle in a circular motion. We don’t speak as the minutes pass and he works vigorously on my leg. His thumb kneads the muscles and the pain slowly drifts away. When he leans down and kisses the scar he has been tracing with his fingers, I cover my face and cry harder. That marred skin is a permanent reminder of all that has happened. All I have to do is look down and a wave of dreadful memories drown me.

“I'm so sorry, Les,” he whispers, kissing my scar again.

I pull my foot away from his grasp. “I’m okay,” I say in an attempt to convince us both. “I promise.” 

“Does this happen often?”

“It hasn't happened in a few months.”

“Come here.” He leans back on the bed and pats his chest for me to lay on. His oversized T-shirt hangs off my shoulder and I curl around him. Our faces are mere inches from each other. In his arms I feel safe. He brushes back my hair and kisses the tip of my nose.

“I'm so sorry for the pain I have caused you. You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt.”

“I know,” I whisper, and kiss his bare chest. His strong arms drape over my body and shield me from the pain.

A few minutes pass and my mind is racing. “Can I ask you a question?” I say and sink deeper into his arms.

“Anything.” He kisses the top of my head. His fingertips rub gently along my skin.

“Whatever happened with the cops after the whole Jerry thing?” I wait silently for his response.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I look up at him and he shrugs. “Your uncle was the sheriff.” I can’t hide the shock in my voice.

“Yes, my uncle was the sheriff who was thrilled to not have to deal with Jerry’s blackmails anymore.” Ethan chuckled.

“They just looked the other way?” I can’t hide my surprised reaction.

“No. There were a few detectives on the case that Jerry took care of on the side. They wanted a full-blown investigation. I wouldn’t say a word to anyone, and the only story they had was yours. My uncle closed the case and said it was self-defense. Since Jerry isn’t able to say what happened, it was a done deal.”

I nod and force everything out of my mind.

“What made you think of that?” He moves his hand from my back and uses it to brush at my hair.

“I guess the nightmare brought it all back.” I sniffle back and exhale slowly. “My father kept me in the dark for so long I had no clue what happened. I grew depressed as the weeks passed, and when my father offered me a ticket to UCLA I never looked back. I guess I was curious to know if you ever got in any trouble.”

“It’s all over now. We are finally safe.”

Closing my eyes, I hear his heart beating in his chest. The sound is soothing, but before I can protest and say that until Jerry’s dead we will never be safe, I drift back to sleep without any more interruptions.

When I wake up, the sun is bright in his room and the bed is empty. The smells of bacon and fresh coffee waft through the room, and I extend my hands overhead, stretching before I crawl out of bed. A shirtless Ethan is in the kitchen standing over the stove. Not thinking twice, I walk right over to him and wrap my arms around his body. The scent of him is enticing; the muscles that wrap around his body are addicting. Gently, I bite his upper back.

“Good morning,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” I say and kiss his warm skin. At the moment I’m not sure if I’m hungry for breakfast or him.

Ethan turns the stove off and spins around. Instantly, his lips are on mine and his hands coil through my hair. “There's coffee, tea, and orange juice.” He buries his face at the hollow of my neck and inhales. “I made bacon and eggs, but your scent seems more delectable.

We stay in each other’s arms for a few more minutes before we move to the barstools. With our plates in front of us and our eyes locked on each other, we eat our breakfast. We don't speak but there's a sense of feeling between us. A sense of familiarity. A sense of home.

Ethan had always been my home. My entire life I felt a part of me was missing. I was always trying to be a better dancer for my mom, and the smartest kid in my classes to impress my dad. But never once did I feel I belonged. It wasn’t until I befriended Ethan that I felt I was destined to be in someone’s life. We were destined for great love. One that didn’t require us to speak while eating.

Once I'm done with breakfast, I load my plate into the dishwasher. Ethan's lower back is resting against the edge of the counter, and when I turn toward him, he's watching my every move. “I should get going,” I say nervously. Though I’ve felt at home this entire time, the nightmare from last night has caused my mood to change.

He doesn't speak. Instead, he reaches out for me. Unable to deny him, I place my hand in his and he pulls me into his arms. He cups my face and kisses my lips. “Can I see you again?” he asks between our flushed lips. He leans back and looks deeply into my eyes, making it impossible to deny him.

My teeth graze my lower lip as I look up into his tantalizing eyes. "I have to work later. And my mom stays late at the rehab center on Sunday.” 

“Monday night, then?”

I stand on my toes and kiss his lips. “We'll see.” I wink and try to walk away. Before I'm about to turn, he drags me back into his arms. His mouth hovers over mine. Unlike before, his kisses are hungry and desperate. As much as I fight to pull away, I can’t.  

“Fine," I whisper between kisses. “Monday night.” 

* * *

I arrive home an hour later. Ethan drops me off and I rush inside, hoping my mother is still asleep. Tiptoeing in the house, I think I’m in the clear when I hear her audible sigh.

“Mom?” I step further into the house. “You’re up early.” I try to sound optimistic. I’m an adult, after all. There’s no need to explain where I’ve been all night, but never having done the walk of shame before, I find it terrifying.

I locate her in my dad’s recliner, her lips pursed with disgust when her gaze lands on me. “It didn't take long for him to find you, did it?” An icy chill runs up my spine. “Or should I say, it didn't take long before you were crawling into his bed.”

I lean into the doorframe and cross my arms. “Good morning to you too, Mother.”

“Don't you have any respect for yourself?” She stands and throws the newspapers on the coffee table. “Given everything that boy has done to you.”

“He didn't do anything to me, Mother. His father did,” I remind her.

“Funny.” Darlene crosses her arms over her chest and matches my stance. “I remember you sitting in that hospital room and him never coming to see you.”

I swallow back and try to stand tall, but she is throwing low blows. Low, hurtful blows.

“I remember you crying night after night and him not even calling you. That's what I remember.”

I taste blood in my mouth as I bite the inside of my cheek. “Funny, I remember you walking away from me when I needed you the most.” Tears pool in my eyes. “I needed my mother, and you were nowhere to be found.” I match her blow for blow. “In that moment I didn’t need him. I needed you, and you were gone.” I take a step forward. “Where were you, Mom? Gone!”

“Because you threw it all away!” she yelled. “For years, Leslie, we worked on one thing together. Your goal was to get into Juilliard, and you did! Your bags were packed and you were leaving. I had done my job as a mother. I raised you to be responsible and to be respected. To be a beautiful and talented dancer. And then you threw it all away when you went to chase that boy.” 

“I didn't throw it away. We were leaving together!” I confess. “He was gonna stand by me as I followed my dreams. We were getting the hell out of this town and he was coming with me to New York. But you insisted on that stupid party.”

“So, you’re saying it’s my fault.”

“No! Its fucking Jerry’s fault, and he never paid for what he did to me!” I cry. I raise my hands and take a step back. I can’t rehash the past. Shaking my head, I turn on my heel and head up the stairs. There’s nothing anyone can say to make me feel any less pain than I feel now.