Ch.29
"I can't live without you for one more day…" the sorrowful voice proclaimed before being swiftly cut off by the beeping tone.
Sully had listened to her message five times now, feeling the intense anguish grip his heart violently as her voice filled with despair pleaded with him to end the silent, unmoving platform their relationship had been standing on for precisely twelve days. Her message didn't just make him want to run to her, it made him want to heal her, stop her pain- pain that he was responsible for. Even if it was her actions that had led to his request for some time to process things, he'd taken too much time.
He would never be able to forget how awful it had been when he was on the other side of the table. Waiting for her to respond to his messages and talk to him when she'd unexpectedly met Hannah for the first time was miserable, and he'd been waiting for a matter of a little over twenty-four hours. Now here he was forcing her to wait indefinitely for the opportunity to speak with him. After hearing the pain in her voice, he regretted how long he'd sat here contemplating a decision, as if one could really be made without speaking to her. The reality was avoidance had been his consolation as each day passed. Though being without her was torture- it meant another day that he didn't have to face the grim reality that their relationship may not survive the inevitable conversation.
Her voice had also reminded him of how much he missed her, though her tone had been one he hadn't heard in her much. One that was desolate and void of any happiness, confidence, or hope. Missing her was a deep ache that never went away. He longed to see her sparkling eyes again, hear her normal warm, beautiful voice, hold her close in his arms, and even smell the scent of strawberry shampoo that lingered in her hair.
Determined to get back to her somehow before he did anything else, he listened to her message one last time. Finally feeling decisive, it was clear that he shouldn't call her. If he did, he knew she would answer and the conversation he'd been putting off for so long would end up taking place right that moment. He didn't want to have what could be a life changing discussion over the phone, and he certainly didn't want to break up with her without being face to face if it unfortunately came to that.
So, he needed to send her a message and propose that they meet somewhere-tonight if possible. Sending Lauren a quick text, he waited for her response, wanting to be completely sure he'd be free tonight before suggesting it to Michaela. Within seconds Lauren had agreed to watch Hannah if he needed her, telling him to contact her any time he found out for sure.
Staring back at the blank message for what seemed like hours, he then finally began typing out a message to Michaela:
I got your message, and I want you to know that I heard every word. We really need to meet and talk some things through. Would you be able to meet me tonight at the coffee shop on campus? Around 8? Let me know.
Reading it back to himself, he decided he certainly couldn't write anything better and hit send. It had been impossibly hard not to take things too far, say too much in the message. He wanted to tell her he missed her too, he loved her, and he wanted her to be back in his arms almost as much as she wanted to be wrapped in them. However, he didn't want her to feel like there weren't still major issues between them that they needed to discuss. Keeping it short hopefully sent the message that he was still angry, but yet wanted to resolve things as much as she did.
Immediately opening a return message from her, he was pleased to see that she had agreed with a simple, "See you at 8."
It felt like Michaela had been standing in that very spot for hours, though in reality only minutes had passed. She was incredibly anxious to go inside, to see him. But at the same time she felt paralyzed with fear, afraid of what he'd say to her, how he'd look at her… The impassivity that had been etched across his face last time could be replaced by something much worse this time. She knew this moment would be forever burned into her mind; it's defining nature one she'd never forget.
So much would change the second she walked through the door only a few feet in front of her. He would both listen to her and hopefully forgive her, and things between them would resume the wonderful way they had been. Or he would crush all her hopes and dreams for the future, a future with him… He would stomp on her heart by ending the relationship that had helped her finally find the real Michaela again. Destroy her picture of happiness that now seemed to exist only when he was painted into it.
Telling herself to breathe when she felt the sting in her chest from holding her breath too long, she finally took a step forward. Still terrified of what would happen, but knowing she could avoid it no longer, she brought a shaking hand up to the door. Pulling the door towards her with the cold, steal handle, she stepped inside the small shop. Immediately, she could smell the strong coffee filling the space and feel the warmth from inside flow through her. Though it was of no real comfort, as she'd barely allowed herself to notice the chilling night air outside.
Scanning the room, she felt her heart catch when she noticed him in the corner, offering the young girl behind the counter a friendly smile as he accepted a ceramic mug from her outstretched hand. More than anything, she wanted to run into his arms. She wanted to wrap her arms around him so badly that restraining herself from doing so left her with a physical ache. Afraid he would turn away from any affection she offered, she stood still, waiting for him to notice her and react first.
It didn't take long for his eyes to spot her once he turned around, and the sight before him made him audibly gasp. It wasn't merely the fact that she had no makeup on, or that her hair was thrown back in a disordered mess, or that she happened to be wearing two different boots that didn't even come close to matching. It was her eyes that tore him apart… They held a pain he'd never seen there before, even after all she'd shared with him about her past. The only way he could explain it was that right before his eyes, she was literally breaking apart.
He stood shocked by her appearance for a few moments, unable to figure out why she was standing there so reserved and completely quiet as if she barely knew him. Realizing he needed to break the painful silence, he took another few steps towards her, grateful he had two coffee cups in his hands. He knew if he'd been able to without spilling coffee all over the place, he would have thrown his arms around her in an instant, ignoring all the reservations and questions he had for her in favor of comforting the woman he still loved so deeply.
"I'm glad you came…" he started, wanting to ease some of the fear he could see shimmering in her eyes.
"Thank you for responding to me…" she returned softly, plunging her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket.
"Figured we could go upstairs," he suggested, motioning with his head towards the elevator in the opposite corner.
She nodded and followed him as he headed for the shiny metallic elevator doors, glad to have a few moments relief from staring into his deep, blue eyes. Instantly, she'd noticed the dark circles under his eyes that meant he hadn't been sleeping any more than she had. And when her eyes had met his directly, the pain that shone back at her overtook her. It's not that she didn't know she'd hurt him… But seeing it right in front of her like that had been another direct slap in the face. And what hurt almost as badly was the distance he was keeping between them… He'd made no effort to reach out to her at all, a sign she was trying to keep herself from acknowledging.
Stepping out onto the dimly lit second floor, she continued to follow him over towards the fireplace in the corner, relieved that there happened to be no other customers on this level at the moment. Watching as he carefully sat down both ceramic mugs on a wooden side table, it dawned on her that he had two cups, not just one for himself.
Turning around to face her, he had to stop himself from smiling as the soft glow in the room danced across her face. And before he had the chance to remind himself why they'd spent time apart in the first place, he wrapped his arms around her. At once he was comforted by how she'd melted into his embrace, readily wrapping her own arms around him the second he'd reached for her.
It was almost impossible to keep tears from falling down her cheeks as the rush of love for him hit her the second he'd reached out for her. Maybe there was more hope then she'd let herself believe… Clearly, he still felt something for her.
Before she had a chance to say anything to him though, he'd gently pulled away from her, and the moment was gone. She followed his lead as he took a seat in one of the plush armchairs directly in front of the fireplace.
As she willingly accepted the dark blue mug from his hand as he offered it to her, it was hard to keep herself from smiling as he'd handed her exactly what she would have ordered on her own. After thanking him, she caught herself reflecting once again on how he'd changed her. Not long ago, she would have been terrified to be alone with a man on this deserted second level. If she'd even been brave enough to meet a guy here at all, she would have insisted they stay downstairs where the other customers were currently congregating. However, being alone with Sully was never frightening. So many things had changed for her since she'd met him; there was no question about that.
Gaining the courage to look at him directly again, a rush of sadness engulfed her as he'd removed all emotion from his expression once more, as if he were afraid to show her any feelings as all. Unable to look at his blank face a moment longer, she looked down at her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say, or where to begin.
"Thanks for coming…" he reiterated, breaking the silence. She'd expected to hear warmth in his tone despite his stoic expression, but instead found none. Rather he sounded almost detached from the words he'd spoken, as if they were not his own.
"Of course…" she returned. Venturing another gaze in his direction, she was surprised to see his eyes were focused on her, a marked improvement from their last meeting. "I'm sorry I called you like that…"
Cutting her off he quickly jumped in saying, "No, I'm sorry. It wasn't right for me to keep my distance from you. To be honest for the longest time I just didn't know how to even begin this conversation… I didn't know how to talk about this with you calmly…"
The panic and dread she had been trying so hard to ignore hit her like a burst of lighting striking out across the night sky as she took in his words. He was going to end it… End everything…
She bit down hard on her lip to keep the profuse apologies from tumbling out, only easing up when the copper, metallic taste of blood hit her tongue. Watching his expression intently for any sign it might reveal, she wondered if he could hear her heart beating as it threatened to break free from her chest.
He waited for a few moments, thinking she may chime in with something, but it became clear that she wasn't going to say a word. Noticing that she dropped eye contact with him in favor of picking at the chipped pink nail polish on her fingernails, he wished this conversation wasn't proving to be as difficult as he'd imagined it would be. Resisting the urge yet again to pull her into his arms and quell her unease, he prepared himself to continue on with a deep breath. He knew the only way to ease his own mind would be to get truthful answers to every one of the questions that haunted him.
"I know you don't have a clue about what happened at that party…" he started, watching her reaction closely. "That to me is the problem, though, Michaela. Don't you see how dangerous that is?" he questioned, the tone in his voice beginning to betray him, showing the anger he still felt.
"What if I hadn't been by your side all evening?" he continued, unable to wait for her to answer. "There's no telling what could have happened to you! And really you wouldn't even remember it anyway for crying out loud!"
"You're right…" she admitted dejectedly. She had no defense, no words of explanation. He was positively accurate in his description of what consequences could have befallen her, and that only left her with shame and regret.
"What I still don't understand is why you did it…" he added, slightly calmer after hearing her acknowledge the truth of his words. "Why did you feel the need to be a follower and drink more than you could handle? Is that the girl you really are and I'm just now seeing it?" he wondered, scared to admit his greatest fear aloud, yet even more frightened of walking away from the evening with that question still unknown.
"No, not at all!" she cried out in alarm, shocked at how loudly she'd reacted. "Sully, I never meant for things to get so out of control… I thought I would be fine taking two shots with Peyton and Vanessa. I've drunk more than that before and never become so intoxicated. I have never been unable to recall the previous evening…" she professed, desperately wanting him to not just hear but feel her sincerity.
"Well that all has to do with what you drink. That's why you can't just go drinking whatever someone hands you…" he responded.
"I know… Vanessa and Peyton waved off any concerns I expressed aloud, and the truth was I wanted to take the shots with them…" she admitted, averting her eyes the second her confession filled the air.
"Why?" he questioned in complete shock.
After commanding herself to take a deep breath, she started to answer, "I thought the alcohol would help calm the nerves I couldn't seem to crush on my own."
Shaking his head slightly, he returned, "Michaela, if you were that uneasy about being at that party, we never should have gone in the first place. And you should have known I would have left at any moment if you had asked me to…"
"It wasn't about being at the party," she stammered, swallowing hard as she realized how much she dreaded the admission that she'd have to provide shortly.
Stunned by her answer, he waited silently for her to expand, anxious to hear her explanation.
"I had planned for the evening…." she started, before cutting herself off to find the right words. "I wanted to show you how much I love you…"
"What are you talking about?" he asked in bewilderment. "You show me that every day…"
"No…" she countered softly. "I wanted to let you love me in a way no one else ever has before…"
As her tactful words played in his mind several times, her actions from that dreadful evening flashed through his mind. The way she'd danced with him… the way she'd acted in her room that night…how she'd so aggressively tried to seduce him… And suddenly the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit a bit better.
"You wanted your first time with me to be when you were too drunk to remember?" he questioned, unable to believe that could possibly be true.
"No!" she gasped in disbelief, not anticipating he would draw that conclusion. "I truly did want to be with you… I just couldn't stop a part of myself that was still questioning the decision… I thought the alcohol would help me relax and suppress the one nagging thought I couldn't on my own…"
"Oh, Michaela…" he whispered as understanding washed over him. "How did you get that into your head? Why would you think that the only way to show me you care for me would be to sleep with me?"
"I thought that's what you wanted… I mean after what happened on Christmas Eve… And then what Hannah said to me…" she filled in.
"Hannah?" he sputtered, drawing a complete blank as to how she could be connected.
"Hannah told me she heard you say to Matthew that you really wanted to sleep with me…" she confided.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he began to understand what had led to her decision. "I didn't know she heard that…" he said honestly. "But that wasn't what I meant… I wasn't talking about having sex with you. I was talking about sleeping with you. I told Matthew about how much I loved waking up with you beside me…"
"Oh…" she returned so softly he almost didn't hear her, once again aware of how misinformed she'd been.
"And Michaela I'm so sorry if you misunderstood what happened between us on Christmas Eve," he started, knowing he had to carefully word what he wished to convey. "I wasn't trying to force you towards anything… I should have told you that. I thought you understood… I wanted to show you that we could be physically close without having sex…"
Waiting for her reaction, he could tell she was reevaluating everything, as her eyes remained lost in the bright orange flames housed in the brick fireplace to his right.
"Listen to me…" he tried, only continuing when he had her gaze. "I never want you to do something you have any doubts about… And I don't want you to be someone that you're not… If you have to drink in order to allow yourself to do something, then that ain't you. And that ain't the woman I love…"
Nodding in return, she couldn't keep herself from finally confiding in him something that had been plaguing her for months. "Don't tell me though that we are as close as you and Abby were… We can't possibly be if I haven't shared myself fully with you yet…"
"How long has that been bothering you?" he responded, stunned once again that she had been filled with so many concerns about their relationship and yet had never said a word to him.
She shrugged in reply, unable to pinpoint an exact time when she had started comparing herself to the first woman whom he'd loved.
"Michaela…" he began, taking the mug from her hand and setting it on the small table to his left. Then, after grasping both her hands tightly in his, he continued, "What I had with Abby isn't anything like what I feel for you… I thought I loved her, but I still didn't know what love was yet. We were young and made the decision to sleep together almost solely due to physical attraction."
"We didn't even really start dating until after we'd been sleeping together for a while… It was a mistake to rush into that kind of relationship with someone- one that I vowed to never make again. Luckily, a mistake led to one of the greatest blessings in my life- Hannah. But I got really lucky… I proposed to Abby because she was Hannah's mother, not because she was my soulmate or someone I felt destined to spend the rest of my life with," he explained, hoping she'd never again doubt that she was so very different from anyone else he'd ever had feelings for in the past.
"And she certainly isn't you…" he finished, offering her a small smile, his first of the entire evening.
Returning his smile with one of her own, she couldn't believe she heard him profess what she'd been dying to hear without even knowing it. Ever since she had found out about Hannah, the thought of Sully being in love with a woman other than her, even if it was years earlier, had been tormenting her.
And now here he was shining those smoldering eyes her way, affirming his love for her to be more powerful than any he'd felt before. It had been a grave mistake to keep her insecurities about how she fit into his heart a secret. For if she'd had the courage to bring it up with him months ago, right then and there he would have erased all her concern. Now for the first time since she had walked into the coffee house, she felt calm and hopeful. He couldn't possibly be planning to end their relationship, not after what he'd just sincerely declared.
"And while we're talking about Abby, I feel like there's something else I should tell you…" he added, pulling her back into the conversation.
"Part of the reason why I was so upset about what happened at the party has to do with something I should have shared with you earlier. It's not that I didn't want to, I just really hate talking about this and didn't really see a need to bring it up before…"
"Go on…" she encouraged, already feeling his unease regarding whatever he was about to share.
"I don't drink because alcohol has the power to destroy lives. Alcohol is what killed Abby…" he confessed, his voice unsteady, betraying the sorrow that filled his heart.
"Oh, Sully…" she returned, joining their hands once more out of instinct alone.
Taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself and suppress the tears that always came when he talked about Abby's death, he glanced down at her hands holding his. Her support was a blessing in that moment, and he was grateful she'd reached out to him with such a simple gesture. Turning his gaze towards the ground, he continued on explaining, "It was just a regular evening… Nothing special… We weren't out at a party or drinking in someone's dorm room. We were at home with plans to watch a movie and go to bed early…."
After a few minutes of silence passed between them, she gave his hand a small squeeze, wanting him to know he had all the time he needed. She knew all too well how difficult it was to share a painful past, even if one happened to be sharing it with their best friend. Seeing the look of devastation and sheer pain in his intense blue eyes, it occurred to her that he must have seen the same emotions reflected in her eyes when she first told him about David. And as hard as it was to say nothing, she knew that silent encouragement was exactly what he needed, having been in his shoes not long ago.
"Neither of us had much energy in those days when Hannah was so young to cook anything fancy…" he finally said, picking up right where he left off. "I just called in a to-go order from Matthew's restaurant. He offered to bring it by, even though the place doesn't have a delivery service. I turned him down though… It was raining pretty badly, and I didn't want him hassling with that when I could easily come grab it. I got my coat on and headed for the door when Hannah started screaming… Abby asked if she could pick up the food…"
He paused momentarily, needing the silence to gain a bit of control, but also grasping for the right words to explain something he knew would be difficult if not impossible for her to truly understand.
"It's hard to explain to someone that hasn't had kids yet…" he tried, noticing how intently she was focused on him, her eyes never leaving his. "But sometimes you just get to this point of total exhaustion with everything… It's not that we didn't love Hannah, but dealing with the hours of crying was overwhelming. Abby was at the breaking point that day, and I can't say I hadn't been there before. So, I let her leave, and I stayed with Hannah…"
"And Michaela… Abby never came home. Some guy had too much to drink at a house party, and of course didn't do the responsible thing. Instead he got behind the wheel, ran a red light, and broadsided her… She didn't stand a chance…" he finished, the heartache in his eyes ripping the air right out of her lungs.
In that moment she wanted to comfort him with words, but in truth she had no idea what to say. Though she'd lost her father who had meant the world to her, had been her best friend, it wasn't the same kind of loss Sully had just described. This was the loss that everyone in the world was terrified of whenever they allowed their mind to dance through the dark possibility of losing a loved one, out of the blue, with no warning.
Knowing no words would ever show him how much his heartache ripped her to shreds inside, she simply began caressing his hand softly with her thumb. She wanted to wrap him in her arms, but that wasn't really possible at the moment without asking him to stand. His loving embrace had done wonders for her when she had needed it the most, and she now hoped her gesture, though not near as grand, would do the same for him.
"I won't even try to tell you what it's like to get a phone call like that… I can't…" he said, tears now streaming down his cheeks.
"Sully… I'm so sorry…" she whispered, feeling the tears gathering in her eyes as well.
"It took me a long time to put that night behind me… It still bothers me that the man responsible was never punished for what he did…"
Brow furrowed slightly, her expression full of confusion, she asked softly, "What happened to him then?"
"He died in the collision…" he answered, swiping the tears from his cheeks with one hand.
"I blamed myself for letting her leave that night. I was angry with God for a while for taking everyone I loved away from me… Then, I realized that I could spend my life full of regret and anger, or I could accept that I couldn't change what had happened and focus on being the best dad possible for Hannah."
"And that's what you did…" she filled in, wanting him to know that his choice to put Hannah first was apparent to everyone that knew him.
"Yeah… I knew I had to move forward for her sake. If it wasn't for Hannah though, I don't know how I would have pulled myself together. I had to keep going for her…"
"There's no question that is why she's such a special and wonderful little girl…" Michaela said, watching his expression closely, which promptly revealed how much he loved to hear the affection she felt for Hannah.
"What still haunts me though is everything that Abby has missed… She wasn't there for Hannah's first steps or her first day of school…She won't see her graduate from high school… Go to Prom… She won't get to celebrate with Hannah when she gets her first job… Help Hannah plan her wedding… Or see her little girl walk down the aisle… One drunken fool stole all of that from both Abby and Hannah…" he revealed, still trying to keep the tears from falling.
"I won't ever drink again in my lifetime. In remembrance of Abby…"
"I'm so very sorry, Sully … I wished I'd known…" she said gently, profoundly regretting once more her actions at that silly party. "I never would have…"
Shaking his head in protest, he dismissed her words saying, "I didn't tell you. And that wasn't fair… There's no way you could have known…"
Nodding in acknowledgement, she once again found herself appreciating how understanding he was no matter the circumstance.
"I've got to ask you for one thing though…" he followed up.
"Anything…"
"Michaela, you've got to promise me that what happened the other night will never happen again. I just can't be with someone that thinks it's okay to consume that much alcohol and lose control like that… The consequences can be fatal…"
"I swear to you, I will never make that decision again. Sully, please forgive me," she pleaded, yearning to put that evening behind them once and for all.
"Of course I forgive you," he immediately answered, knowing that her word to never be so foolish again was enough for him to fully forgive her mistake.
Looking directly into his eyes, she knew that there was more bothering him than just her level of intoxication at the party. He still wasn't fully at ease around her. Encouraging him with only her intent gaze, she waited for him to confide in her further.
"'Chaela it wasn't just the drinking… The truth is I started to wonder if all this time I never really knew the real you…" he admitted, unconsciously separating their joined hands.
"I don't understand," she returned, never imagining he would feel that way after everything she had told him about herself. She'd told him things even Grace didn't know.
"I know you didn't want me to, but I watched that video of you… dancing at that party," he provided carefully, worried she may be angry with him.
"You did?" she questioned, troubled by what he would say next knowing he'd now seen the video firsthand.
"It's not that I don't believe that your sorry excuse for a boyfriend drugged you and took advantage of the situation… It's just…"
"Just what?" she chimed in, impatience getting the best of her.
"I keep trying to figure out where you learned to dance like that… I definitely wasn't expecting to see you… That dance was so…" he cut himself off abruptly, trying to find the right words to phrase things politely.
"Risqué?" she filled in tastefully, with the hint of a smile, wanting him to know that he wasn't offending her in the slightest.
"Yeah…" he confirmed, stunned by her calm demeanor, as if she wasn't caught off guard in the slightest by his question.
"You're not the first to find that video shocking and uncharacteristic. When it was first posted, I couldn't go anywhere on campus without a total stranger commenting on it. Especially those that knew me well couldn't hide their surprise. And as I told you before it was not one of my finer moments…"
He gave her a nod in return to show he vividly remembered her tear-filled confession of how mortified she was by the video.
"I don't think I've ever mentioned this to you, but I took dance lessons for years and years. It was my way of trying to appease my mother who desperately wanted me to behave just like my older sisters. I have no difficulty whatsoever in emulating the dancing of someone else- that was often how I learned in class," she explained, her words tumbling out almost in a rush, as she was anxious for him to understand.
Of all the individuals she'd tried to provide an answer to this question, he was the only one she truly cared whether or not her answer clarified the situation effectively.
"That evening Peyton had done almost that exact same dance only moments before the video was taken. I'd watched her in awe; envious of the attention she was receiving. It was no struggle at all to then imitate precisely what I'd seen her do when I was the one on stage," she concluded, once again watching his eyes closely, aware of how well she could read them after all the time they'd spent together.
"I see…" he responded with a firm nod.
And just like that his perception of what he'd seen had drastically changed, understanding flowing through him. Now it was his turn to regret the time he hadn't just talked to her, for fear of how this conversation would end. If he'd talked to her sooner, she would have provided an explanation just like she did now, only he wouldn't have spent so many hours trying to decipher the truth on his own.
What she said made sense, and he could tell by looking into her eyes that she wasn't being untruthful. It wouldn't have been hard for her to fall under the influence of imitating Peyton when she was drugged, especially when she was falling back on engrained dance training… He'd been worried about her character for no reason at all…
"There's something else I need to ask you about…" he started, ready to hear her answer to the last burdening question floating through his mind.
"Go ahead," she urged, again feeling hopeful that he too wanted to reconcile things between them.
"I know I'm probably reading too much into things…" he said, his gaze wandering towards the window several feet away.
"But?" she urged trying to pull him out of the thoughts he seemed lost in.
"How come you don't wear the ring I bought you on your finger?" he finally asked, looking toward her third finger as he spoke.
Even though he wasn't looking at her, she still averted her eyes, glancing down at her chest. Gently pulling the silver chain out from underneath her sweatshirt, she began running her fingers over the ring hanging from it's silver links, preparing herself to answer.
"Honestly, I wanted to feel like it was my decision whether or not I chose to wear it…" she finally answered.
"Why wouldn't it be your choice? 'Course it is," he countered, his eyes focused directly on her again.
Shaking her head, she said softly in reply, "I know with you I have a choice… But with him I didn't…"
"He gave you a ring?" he muttered in surprise, having difficulty believing her abusive ex-boyfriend would have given her something so meaningful.
"Yes..." she responded, lost in thought. "But not out of love… Of course not… He wanted the world to know I belonged to him. And the one time I took it off… I paid dearly…" she said, visibly shivering from the memory.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to resist the urge to ask her what happened, to let her share on her own if she wanted him to know as it was no doubt another hard to recount incident from her past. But when it came to her, he simply couldn't stop himself from asking. With her he desperately wanted to know everything from her favorite food to the color of socks she wore as part of her grade school uniform.
"Michaela, what did he do to you?" he asked gently.
"You already know…" she said softly, remembering the night months ago when he'd arrived at her apartment door wanting to talk about the case.
"No…" he muttered, recalling the detailed newspaper article he'd read what seemed like another lifetime ago.
"We were going to the lake for a fourth of July party several of his fraternity brothers were hosting. When he realized I wasn't wearing his ring for fear of losing it in the water, he was filled with a rage I couldn't even begin to calm…"
"So, he…" he tried, unable to finish the sentence aloud.
"He lit a sparkler and held it on my ankle. I tried to fight him off, but he had me pinned down, and it was literally impossible. The one time my arm came anywhere near him, he moved the sparkler to my wrist for a brief moment…" she finished for him.
He couldn't help but notice how detached she was as if the moment in time she was recounting hadn't happened to her, rather to someone she'd only read about. It wasn't like her to talk about David so unemotionally… This must have been the exact way she'd started to share it in court that day. It was probably the only way she'd known how to begin to tell such a horrendous story to a room full of mostly strangers, with that devil of a man staring back at her.
Sucking in a breath sharply as another piece of the puzzle clicked into place, he now knew what had left, not just the scar on her ankle, but also the one on her wrist he'd kissed more than once.
"Michaela…" was all he could utter, imagining the kind of physical agony she'd endured.
Almost a year ago, he'd read that sparklers reached temperatures of 1800 degrees Fahrenheit, hot enough to melt some metals. It hadn't been hard to then decide against the risk of letting Hannah handle one. And now Michaela was telling him that same firework, one as hot as a soldering gun, had been used to intentionally scald her.
"How did you… Didn't you… need intense medical attention?" he found himself wondering aloud.
Seeing tears shimmering in his eyes as he looked at her intensely, she couldn't stop them from forming in her own eyes. Somehow managing to keep herself from falling apart, she answered his question, wanting to share this last memory of David's torture with him and end the need to ever bring up David again.
"Well I now know from experience that a third degree burn isn't very painful after it's inflicted. The nerves are so severely damaged that I didn't feel much of anything after the fact. Thankfully, he let one of the girls at the party take me to the hospital as long as I kept with his story that I'd stepped on a sparkler, and it had caught my shoe on fire, leading to the burnt ankle."
"How did that not raise a red flag at the hospital?"
"The story I recounted that David had concocted made sense, and on the Fourth of July hospitals are overwhelmed with patients sustaining injuries from improper firework use… Unfortunately, that statement I gave the hospital was later used in David's defense in court. His lawyer argued that I had given that statement of truth on the day of the incident, and that David had nothing to do with it other than buying the fireworks," she answered.
"All the articles seemed to believe that his defense was weakened by the medical expert's testimony though…" he replied, incapable of forgetting even a single word of all the trial coverage articles he'd scoured.
"I believe that it was… While David's story covered the injury to my ankle, it did nothing to explain the one on my wrist… Nor did they have an explanation for why I was wearing sandals in countless pictures taken that day, but was supposedly wearing a tennis shoe that caught fire during the accident."
"I didn't mean to stir up old memories…" he offered, noticing how she kept swiping the tears from her cheeks. "I know how painful they are for you. And I'm sorry that I bought you that ring… I didn't mean…" he said, recognizing that he should have known all along that something from her past, not a lack of feelings for him, had been behind her choosing not to wear the ring on her finger.
She swiftly cut in before he had the change to finish, saying, "No, Sully I absolutely adore this ring you bought me out of love and not a sick need to show ownership. I just needed a little time… I needed to ease into wearing it on my finger… I knew it in my heart, but I needed to see firsthand that if I didn't wear it, you wouldn't lash out at me…"
Reaching out for her hand, he brought it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her third finger. "Don't you ever feel like you have to do something you don't want to in fear of how I'll react. You don't ever need to wear it on your finger if you don't want to…" he finished definitively.
"No, I want to… That is if you'll still have me…" she questioned, brow slightly furrowed, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. "Sully, do you still…"
"Do I still?" he jumped in, needing to hear her say it aloud.
"Want to be with me?" she finished. Only milliseconds passed as she waited for his answer, and yet she felt like he was making her wait for days all over again.
If he said no, then all the hope that had been building within her since the very start of their conversation would come crashing down. He'd only led her to believe that he still loved her as much as she loved him, but he hadn't said it yet.
"More than anything else in the world…" he answered, grabbing her by the hands and pulling her to her feet and towards him. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he stared into her eyes that were sparkling as bright as the stars from the night sky in the dimly lit room.
"I love you," he said, meaning it with ever last fiber of his being.
"I love you, too," she returned, smiling back at the joy his features held before joining their lips together.
As he held her close in his arms, she deepened their kiss, and once again everything in the world held meaning. She was back where she belonged, and even better she really truly was the Michaela he loved wholeheartedly. He could ask for nothing more.
