I hardly see his hand coming because of the dark room but I feel it soon enough. There's an almost palpable split second when I know he's made up his mind to do what he does. Like the universe knows. His fist connects square with my cheek bone and I know its pointless trying to get away. If I move off the bed the kicking will start. I lie and take it like the coward I am.

I gasp for air as I surface from the dream. I jump up, put the light on and run for the mirror. But there is no swelling on my face, no blood on my lip, no ugly purple bruises adorning my cheek. I stand there for a few minutes staring at myself as I try to control my breathing. I want to cry but I refuse to give in. What's important now is that I've finally grown a pair of balls to get away from the man that has made my life a living hell for two years. I am safe. My mom and dad are asleep down the passage. I know because I can hear him snoring. I crawl back into bed and lie awake, shivering, until the sun's rays find their way into my bedroom.

I'm twenty two years old. It is the year 2000, the month of July and I have just come out of a two year abusive relationship. A very abusive relationship.

I left my job and decided to take a few months break at my parents place in a small fishing village, Yzerfontein, on the West Coast of Cape Town.

It's my second week here and some old friends have eventually managed to talk me into a few drinks at the only local pub there is. I'm nervous of going out but this may be a good thing. I walk in and turn toward the bar counter and my friends. But then I look to my left and my breath hitches, my eyes focused on the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Lean but defined body under the Billabong shirt. Messy hair. Really messy hair. Bronze, brown, streaks of blonde…I want to run my fingers through it. Gorgeous, but not at all my type. I can't stop staring. I'm literally stuck in one spot. He looks up, straight into my eyes. Oh wow, all that is holy, he stares at me with the most beautiful almost see through green eyes. For a few seconds he keeps my gaze, I'm sure I look like an idiot because I think my mouth is hanging open. And then he smiles, perfect white teeth and I look away hurriedly and move towards my friends before I faint.

They of course are laughing their heads off after seeing what just happened and I feel like a fool. Before I can order a drink the barman, Sam, places a glass of wine in front of me and laughs, saying it's from the "mop haired guy". Haha, very funny! How did he know what I drink? Well, Sam says, I might have given him that info for a handsome tip. I swat his shoulder, I can feel my face heated and I'm sure I'm all shades of red at the moment.

I slightly turn, look over my shoulder and mouth the words "thank you". He shrugs with a smile, raises his glass and gives me an "air cheers". I hurriedly look away again. Even though he is Adonis in a Billabong shirt I have just made it out of a relationship where a man told me on a daily basis how useless I was and on very frequently made me physically feel it as well. Hell, for two years I had never even enjoyed sex because he used me for his own pleasure and discarded me afterwards telling me how useless I was in that department as well. I was still in the space in my head where every man was him. And, I think to myself, just because he was beautiful didn't mean he was a good person. Still, I feel an unfamiliar pleasant ache in the pit of my stomach, moving between my thighs.

After a much needed evening of girly gossip and a few rounds of pool I decide to call it quits and take the few blocks walk back home. If I cut along the beach it's not that far. In our small town it's still very safe to take a midnight stroll without getting attacked. I'm feeling slightly tipsy. I've been sneaking peaks at his table all night, watching him interact with his friends, laughing and telling jokes. I know he's been looking our way as well because I caught him a few times. He didn't look apologetic.

I say my goodbyes and head out the door. Halfway across the parking lot I hear footsteps catching up to me and I turn around. It's him. It's him in his green Billabong shirt that matches his green eyes. His legs look amazing in those Levi's, filling them out just nicely. I'd love to touch his legs. Hey, where the hell did that thought come from? I know I'm staring again and possibly open mouthed (again) but who cares.

"Don't tell me you're walking home alone?" he questions.

"Hi, my name's Bella, it's nice to meet you too," I joke.

He laughs. Oh, it sounds so yummy.

"I must apologize," he says. "Where are my manners? Edward," he says holding his hand out. I take it; his grip is firm but not overly so. We don't let go immediately. We just stare. It gives me the opportunity to really feel his hand. It's a little rough…not too rough…it makes me think that he's a hard worker but takes the time to look after himself.

I let go slowly, letting his hand slip from mine.

"Look Edward, you're obviously new to this place. I've lived here since I was nine and trust me, I could fall asleep on the beach and I'd wake up the next morning without a scratch. I'll be fine," I say whilst walking backwards slowly.

As I want to turn: "This is my first time here," he says quickly, as if wanting to prolong the conversation before I take off. "I'm, well, my friends and I are here for a week and a bit on a break. We work on a deep sea vessel. We heard about this place from a friend and thought it would be ideal to come here and take some down time."

"Okay. Well, as said, I'll be fine so enjoy your evening." I turn around and start walking. He lets me take a few steps before speaking up again.

"Wait. Would you like to have a drink with me?"

I stop and consider. There is no way I'm walking back in there after saying goodbye to everyone. My friends will have a field day and give them too much to talk about. I don't even know this guy. But then, as if reading my mind: "If you don't want to go back in its fine, I'll go grab us two beers, we can sit on the beach?"

I look ahead of me, the beach a mere 30m ahead of where I'm standing. Oh Bella, do you really want to do this? Really? Did you not learn your lesson after two years of shit from a man you thought was so wonderful to begin with? But it's just a beer right, it's not like he's asking me to marry him? What harm can it do?

The word is out before I can stop it. "Okay." I turn around and look at his smile spread across his face. There are those perfect white teeth again.

"Cool. Okay, wait right here," he says using his hands to show me to stay right where I am, as if he's scared he's going to come out and I'm gone. "I'll be right back." He goes back inside.

What the hell? I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. Why does this godly man want to spend time with little old me? I look around to the sides of me, expecting someone to jump out and shout 'You're on candid camera' but obviously that does not happen. I laugh at myself. I'm still laughing at myself when he comes out with two beers in his one hand, his other hand lightly in his pocket. The near orgasmic sight makes the laughter get caught somewhere in my throat and is transmitted as an awful groan. Not a sexy groan that does things to your insides. A gross groan that just sounds…well…gross.

He jogs the last few steps. "Are you okay?" he asks worriedly. God, he heard that. Ground, please open up and swallow me whole.

"Fine," I try to laugh. "I thought I saw a spider close to my foot and freaked out a bit. Turns out it was a dead leaf rolling in the wind."

He seems okay with that and he strolls the last few steps to the beach with me. We descend the seven steps to the bottom and walk a bit towards the water. For a June evening in this little coastal town it is surprisingly un-cold. Not warm, but not too cold either.

"Is it okay here?" he asks and gestures to the sand at our feet to sit down.

"Yeah, that's fine."

We sit. I take a long swig of my beer and am taken aback slightly by the bitter taste. I haven't had a beer in a very long time. Still, it's not that bad and I take another.

He's looking out at the ocean, a look of peace on his face. "You know," he starts, "you would think I'd get enough of the ocean working on it for most of the year but it never ceases to amaze me just how small we are in relation to the vast seas of the world."

He looks at me, not smiling, just so serious. "I agree. It is pretty amazing. And beautiful, and spectacular, and…"I start laughing as he starts smiling. "I can go on the whole night about the ocean. I love it. It makes me think of home, of family, love, a time in my life where everything was so right and I wished it could stay like that forever." I can feel myself smile a melancholy smile and I pick up a shell and study its grooves with my fingers. "I guess when we're young we are naïve enough to believe that nothing will change, that our life is perfect and nothing can touch us."

It's quiet for a while. I think he's probably thinking I'm a nutcase and all he was looking for was a good time but instead he picked up this emo girl that's more depressed than biltong gone bad.

"I know this is going to sound rude, but how old are you?" he asks.

"Twenty two."

Again with the quiet. "Pardon me for saying but it's such a young age to have such a negative outlook on life."

I still for a second, down the rest of my beer and get up. "Look Edward, it was really nice of you to invite me for a beer, but I really don't think you have the right to judge me about how I see life. You don't know me; you don't know why I feel like I feel. Good night."

I turn and make my way back up to the road. And there it is again. The footsteps of someone following me…fast.

"Hey, wait up!" I stop and he jogs around me so he is standing in front of me. "Look, I'm sorry. I was way out of line. I just…I could almost feel how sad you were. It was stupid of me to think that you would want to discuss it with a total stranger."

I sigh, knowing I was harsh. "No, look, I'm the one that should be saying sorry. I'm just not…in a good space at the moment and I guess I take things too personally sometimes."

He smiles. "I'm not going to offer to walk you home seeing as though you're quite adamant that you'll be okay. So am I too forward to ask you over for a braai tomorrow evening? We're staying in the caravan park and my friends are going to Langebaan tomorrow evening and won't be back till the next day. I'd really like it if you would come. I'm sure you have plenty stories to tell of this place and its people seeing as you've lived here most of your life?"

And for some reason I don't have to think twice. I don't have to stew this question over in my mind until its mush. There is a one word answer for this and I say it. "Yes."

I turn around and start walking again.

"Okay," he shouts after me. "So, should we make it around seven?"

"Sure," I shout back without turning around. I'm smiling. I haven't smiled like this in almost two years.

"Okay," he shouts again. "We're in one of the chalets. You'll see the red bakkie parked there with the boat."

I don't answer but wave instead, again without turning around.

He doesn't shout again. I'm tempted to turn around and see if he is still standing there but I don't. I round the corner onto my street and giggle like a teenager. Whoa…where did that come from? I don't know, but it feels good. I realize I'm looking forward to spending time with the man that is Edward, with the messy hair and gorgeous green eyes.