He came into view in slow motion, from bottom to top as he descended the stairs. First, his worn, black motorcycle boots, followed by fitted dark wash jeans, then a red flannel, buttons undone and revealing a plain black T-shirt strained against a muscular chest. A black motorcycle helmet was propped underneath a toned and tanned arm. Finally, a face that was all at once handsome, familiar, and unwelcome. Russet colored skin, dark, brooding eyes, and short, shaggy black hair.

I audibly gasped from my seat that was positioned in the circle facing towards the door. Even in the dimly lit church basement, he was unmistakable.

Jacob Black.

His eyes met mine, wide like saucers and nearly popping out of his head, his mouth agape in surprise.

"Ah, Jacob, you made it!" the therapist exclaimed. "Please, take a seat. We were just about to start."

So, he's been here before…what on earth could that asshole need this trauma therapy for?

Jacob nodded meekly and sat down in the only empty seat, which was just a few down from my own. I watched him as he clearly tried to avoid looking over at me, staring at his motorcycle helmet he had placed by his feet. What are the odds I would see someone I knew here, let alone him?

"So," the therapist said, clapping his hands and breaking me out of my reverie. "For those of you who are new, my name is Sam, and I will be guiding this session today. We will start with some quick introductions around the room, and then I'll open the floor to discussion. Please feel free to share as little or as much as you would like, based on where your comfort level lies today. It doesn't matter if you've been a very active participant in the past or if this is your first time. You are all here because you have experienced something traumatic in your lives. This group is here to support you."

The introductions started to the left of Sam the therapist. My heart was beating out of my chest with anxiety as I practiced my intro in my head. I aways hated speaking in public.

Finally, all eyes were on me. All, except Jacob's.

"Hi, I'm Bella," I squeaked. "This is my first time here." I paused, unsure of what else I wanted to say. Should I give details? Should I give a fun fact, like we used to do in college ice-breaking exercises? I finally decided to lean in and share. "Several months ago, I was attacked by a stranger and left for dead."

I let out an exhale. It was as if just admitting what had happened made my chest feel lighter. And looking around, the nods and kind eyes of people who understood what it was like to experience such a trauma made me feel so much less alone. They weren't horrified, because it was their reality too. It made me feel…less broken.

As the next person started their introduction, I trained my eyes slightly over to the left towards Jacob, hidden by my curtain of hair. There was a brief second where I think our eyes locked before he quickly looked away. What was it that I saw in those dark eyes? Could it have been…empathy? Sadness?

Jacob's turn came up shortly after. It had been a while since I heard his voice. When he spoke, he sounded…different. Softer.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Hi. I know many of you already know me. I'm Jacob. When I was 14, my mom was killed in a car accident. I was in the car with her when it happened. I turned to heavy drinking for a while to try and forget until I found this group." He paused, sniffling. "I just want to thank you all for being such a good support for me over this past year while I finally started to get my act together." Another pause. "I'm certain I wouldn't be here without this group."

The rest of the group session went by in a bit of a blur. People shared, others provided support, Sam gave prompts and words of encouragement. Lather, rinse, repeat. I didn't chime in at all. I just wasn't ready to pour everything out to a group of strangers just yet. Okay, and maybe Jacob's presence had tripped me up. The last time I saw him was at my shift at the restaurant. I remember Jacob seeming much quieter than normal, and I thought that was so unusual. He just kept his head down and cooked away, which was in stark contrast to his normal MO of harassing me. Running in to Jacob at this group for trauma survivors was turning everything I thought I knew on its head, and I really wasn't sure how to deal with it. I made a mental note to bring this up to my therapist, Gemma, at some point.

Inevitably thinking of that day at work brought me to Edward. During the shift that would prove to be my last, Edward called Mr. Banner and said something to get me out of work and to that special, magical date night on the yacht. A lump formed in my throat and my eyes started to sting at the thought of the last time things felt normal; the last time I felt truly happy. I shook those thoughts away lest they bring me further down to despair.

The sound of chairs scraping against the floor mercifully pulled me out of my thoughts. It was concerning that I seemed to have zoned out for the whole session. Maybe next time I would be fully present and take full advantage of the group.

I stood up and looked around to see what normal protocol for post-group sessions was. A couple people simply stood up and walked up the stairs to leave. A squirrely looking woman was talking with Sam over by where he was sitting during the session. A group of three burly-looking men were sitting together and talking animatedly. A few others were standing at the folding card table that had a rather depressing looking spread of donuts, two carafes of coffee, some cream and sugar, cups and plates. One of those people was Jacob. Do I stay or do I go? Do I confront him? Make small talk?

I made a split-second decision and walked over to the refreshments table where Jacob was pouring himself some coffee.

"Um, hi."

Jacob's body stiffened as he recognized my voice and turned his head towards me.

"Hi," he replied.

We both shifted in place a bit, clearly unsure of how to navigate this awkward situation.

"So…" I started, unsure of where to go from here. I hadn't made any sort of plan as to what I would say to him.

"Do you want to go somewhere and talk?" he said, much to my surprise. I wrinkled my brow in thought, which was a surprise in and of itself since just months ago I would not only never go anywhere with this asshole, but he would never ask in such a…calm, regular tone. But the whole evening had thrown me for a loop and I was really curious about where this was going.

"Sure," I said. "There's a bar just down the street."

He shook his head. "No, sorry, I'm in recovery."

"I'm sorry, I heard your introduction, but I just forgot."

"That's okay. There's a café open late, mostly a college crowd, but they have good coffee. It's a 10-minute drive, I could meet you there?"

"Sure, just text me the details."

"I would, but you blocked me, remember?"

"Oh, right. I'll just unblock you then…I can always re-block you afterwards," I said with a chuckle, half joking, half serious. Jacob took it from the serious side.

He nodded. "Of course."

I unblocked his number as I walked out of the church basement and to my car. My phone buzzed when I received Jacob's text with the location, and I made my way over there. Once I arrived, I walked into the smells and sounds of a café, the aroma of coffee filling my nose, the chatter of people talking filling the space, baristas making drinks with the whirring espresso machines. I ordered a matcha latte and sat down, waiting for my drink, waiting for Jacob. Looking around, I could easily tell he was right. The clientele skewed young, students either working on their laptops or discussing assignments in a group. The energy was vibrant and cool and casual.

"Bella!" The barista called my name, and I grabbed my matcha from the counter. When I sat down, I saw that Jacob had walked in and I waved to him. Once he had made his order at the counter, he took a seat across from me.

"So…" he started, fiddling with his sleeves, a piece of straw wrapper that had been left on the table, anything he could get his hands on. It was odd to me to see him so quiet and nervous. I spent a lot of time hating this man for all the shit he put me through. But sitting here across from him now, knowing a piece of him I hadn't known before, it felt…different. He felt different. It was as though this shared knowledge of a near-death experience connected us in some way. But it all felt complicated when I considered our past. It was a lot to process.

"So…" I added, rather lamely, truly unsure of where to go from here. I was starting to think that maybe it had been a mistake to come here, and probably all too soon. It was just too awkward.

"Jacob!" the barista called from the counter. Thank god. Jacob stood up and walked over to the counter to grab his drink. I vowed to have something better to say when he got back.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked, even though I had a feeling of the answer.

"Well," he said, "Mostly I wanted to apologize for my past behavior. I know I alluded to my alcohol problem during group, and it's definitely not an excuse, but it is part of my story and it definitely contributed to how I treated you. I've also been processing a lot of stuff in therapy and realized how shitty of a person and of a…" he paused, unable to get the words out, until, "…sexual partner I was. I'm not here to ask for your forgiveness, just to offer my apologies. I am so, so, sorry, Bella. I treated you like shit and harassed you. I'm sorry."

When he finished, he hung his head down, hand wrapped around his mug. I took a breath, took it all in.

"This night has gone in such different direction than I thought it would," I said. "Honestly, I'm not sure what I expected, but I certainly wasn't expecting you, let alone getting coffee with you." I stopped briefly to think over what I was going to say next. He raised his head to look at me, and I stared into his deep, brown eyes. In them I could see sincerity and regret. "I don't totally know how I feel about all of this. I do know that I appreciate your apology. It's not something I ever expected or even wanted to be honest. I wrote you off as a true piece of shit. But for whatever reason, what I'm feeling is an appreciation for your acknowledgment of how you treated me. So, I'm just going with that I guess."

Jacob nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. He turned his focus back on me. "Thank you. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

As my eyes met his gaze, I felt something…strange happen. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. But there was such a vulnerability and intensity in his eyes, that I couldn't help but return the same look. I spent a lot of time shielding myself from this kind of connection over the last several months since the attack, and it felt so good to let go of that. Was this feeling…relief? Comfort? For the first time in months, it felt like I could breathe.

It scared the shit out of me.