"How did you fit all of this stuff in that crappy little apartment?" The young blonde was sitting on the floor staring at the boxes remaining after two days of unpacking. It had almost been a year since she showed up at Avery's door, letting him know that she could get through the disaster she was in if he was by her side. Summoning the courage to say those words to him had been a struggle but he had proved to be worth every bit of the fight. Moving in together was a reoccurring topic until they finally settled on the decision last month.
It was Juliette's idea for them to find a new place rather than starting this new chapter in walls containing echoes of the sadness and sorrow the last few years had brought her. Reminders of a litany of bad choices no longer seemed necessary. Avery's only requirement was a place in which they could split the rent which, while not as difficult as it once would have been, still proved a challenge. In the end they settled on a house that was a bit small for the country star's taste but worked for both of them. A previous version of herself would never have considered it but bouts of turmoil have a way of putting things in perspective and Juliette had more than her share of turmoil. What were a few less bedrooms if you got to share the important one with someone you love?
"I guess you never looked underneath the bed," she heard in reply from the kitchen.
Even after all this time a smile crept onto her lips at his voice. Tonight Juliette would surely crash onto the bed, complaining about how her back ached and Avery would be there, rubbing her shoulders without being asked. Neither would be a novel occurrence but this time it would be different. This time there would be no question of leaving to go to his own place because the last pair of clean socks he had stashed away in his drawer were on his feet or her having to leave him because she had an event early the next morning. They were both home.
The idea of actually sharing and building a life with someone still scared her. Stability was something she never had long-term experience with until the roadie, turned friend, and finally lover, walked into her life. He was there for her, wanting nothing more than to be whatever she needed at that moment. That had been hard for her to accept at first. She knew Glenn and Emily would be in her corner no matter what but even they were paid to be there, a fact that had always wiggled to the front of her consciousness when trouble was brewing. Avery had specifically walked away from that, choosing instead to try and forge his own path while still standing by her side.
Footsteps on the hardwood floor alerted her to his return with the water she had asked for. Blindly she reached her hand up and was met with the feel of cold plastic. Unscrewing the top she took a swig from the bottle before setting down. "Thankfully we're almost done," she said as she scooted over to the next box. The words "handle with care" were on the side in Avery's sharp writing.
"Not that one," he spit out, hurrying towards her spot in the center of the room. The grin quickly fell from her face and she looked up at him. Worry was evident in those blue eyes. A cold blanket of dread crawled over her.
This was it. Whatever was in this box had to be the other shoe she had been waiting to drop since he had first entered into her orbit. It had taken her a long time to trust that his constant support and love were real. The first few months of their relationship she woke up everyday bracing herself for the possibility that he could leave her, just like everyone else did, and everyday he stood by her with a quiet love and support she had never before received. Now she cursed herself for becoming comfortable, complacent, letting her guard down.
There had to be some deep, dark secret within the cardboard walls. She could think of no other reason he would not want her to open it. No other explanation for him standing over her, posture tensed and brow furrowed. A small hand ran over the rough surface as she debated heeding his call, unsure if she could endure that kind of heartbreak it may contain. Her mind raced through what possible contents he would not want her to know about, each conjecture worse than the last. Pearl white teeth ground into the soft flesh of her bottom lip as she weighed the price that knowledge could cost her. It did not matter. Juliette had to know what he was trying to keep hidden.
Pulling open the flaps she was not sure what she expected to find, but it certainly was not the item that was revealed. Staring up at her were pictures of a happy little girl with blonde hair. Even at a young age she had learned to put on a smile for the sake of show, even if it did not make it to her eyes. People who casually cared only paid attention to the illusion of happiness. The emotion pushed to the surface. The act. They did not want to know about the unhappy little girl whose stomach was growling by the time she made it to school in the morning and whose clothes never quite matched. The quilt immediately forced back into the forefront of her consciousness her brief visit to Alabama for the special with CMT.
"What is this doing here?" Her voice was low and dangerously flat.
A sigh was audible over her shoulder. "You handed it to me." It was such a simple response. Five words. She waited for him to continue but all that greeted her was silence. It enraged her.
Whipping around she shot him a glare, "I know I handed it to you." Pushing up onto her feet she pulled herself up to her full height, even then she had to tilt her head up to make any sort of eye contact. Her petite stature only served to anger her more. "What I don't understand is why you kept it for a year and half."
He shrugged, "I thought, one day, you might wish you had it. She seemed like she meant a lot to you."
"You have no idea what she was to me." Her hands were balled tightly at her side.
"You're right," Avery placed his hands on his hips, irritation evident in his tone. "I don't because you still refuse to talk about your childhood for more than a few minutes without turning the conversation into jokes."
The words were like a slap in the face. Yes she kept the tales of her lifetime movie coming of age close to the vest, choosing to lock those painful memories away rather than relive them. There were times when her evasion of the truth had obviously bothered him. When he would try and pry open the fortified walls built around her youth, but he never pushed, never forced, never threw her obvious discomfort with the subject back in her face. Until this moment.
"Fine, you want to know about Miss Carrie I'll tell you," she spat through gritted teeth. "When my mom was too incoherent to let me inside or just disappeared for days on end she meant something. Is that what you want to know." Ignoring the stinging at the corners of her eyes she continued, "Or should I wrap that damn quilt around me and think about how her creepy husband would try to grope me when she wasn't looking?"
His expression changed and she did not like what she saw reflected in his countenance. Moving forward he opened his mouth to speak but before he could get any words she threw her hand up in front of her. "Don't give me that look," She growled, swallowing down the lump in her throat along with the memories. "I don't need you or anyone else trying to save me from my past."
"Christ, Juliette. I'm not trying to save you from anything."
"Then what is that look on you face, huh?"
Avery's shoulders slumped with a heavy exhale. Dropping his head he ran his fingers over his chin. "You've more than proven that you don't need anyone to come riding up on a white horse, solving her troubles," he said, turning his gaze back to her, "but I can hate what you had to go through to get that strength. I can hate the way your voice gets when you talk about your childhood. And it can hurt. Hearing about the awful things someone you love had to go through."
Some of the tension in Juliette's muscles released as his words sunk in. However she was still not ready to let battle go completely. Pulling her shoulders back she said, "You're the one who pushed for information."
"I was," he nodded, "and I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. It's just I hate that you still feel like you have to keep up all of these walls." Reaching out he rested his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing against the skin at the nape of her neck. He placed his forehead to hers and she could feel her cheeks grow hot under his intense and caring gaze. "You don't need them. Not around me."
When he spoke like that, so sincere and honest, the blonde found it impossible to hold on to any anger. It was one of those annoyingly saccharine facts she learned about about herself even before they started dating.
Closing the inches between them she pressed her lips lightly against his. Pulling back, a smirk graced her features. "One day you'll know all my secrets and then we'll see how you feel."
Those words were greeted with an easy smile. His hand moved from her neck to push back some strands of hair that had worked their way out of her ponytail, eyes wandering over her features. "I'm sure you'll always have a bit of mystery to you."
"Well, who would I be if I did not keep you on your toes just a little," she nodded. Looking down at the box she stepped back and pointed at the offending object. "Now take that away please."
"Out of the house it goes," he said, stepping forward. He hoisted the box up, using more effort than Juliette would have expected necessary to carry a quilt and made his way out of the room.
Chewing on the inside of her cheek she watched him walk by. "Put it in the attic," she called out in resignation,
"Alright," he replied, bit of self-righteousness evident in his tone. Rolling her eyes she turned back, hands on hips, as she decided which box to tackle next.