is head
to gaze at me. “You ha一ve to understand . . . my life was hell on earth. I was a
walking hard-on, fifteen years old, tall for my age, hormones raging. The girls
at school—” He stops, but I’ve got the picture: a scared, lonely, but attractive
adolescent. My heart twists.
“I was angry, so fucking angry at everyone; at myself, my folks. I had no
friends. My therapist at the time was a total asshole. My folks, they kept me
on a tight leash; they didn’t understand.” He stares back up at the ceiling and
runs a hand through his hair. I itch to run my fingers through his hair, too, but I
stay still.
“I just couldn’t bear anyone to touch me. I couldn’t. Couldn’t bear anyone near
me. I used to fight . . . fuck, did I fight. I got into some god-awful brawls. I was
expelled from a couple of schools. But it was a way to let off steam. To
tolerate some kind of physical contact.” He stops again. “Well, you get the
idea. And when she kissed me, she only grabbed my face. She didn’t touch
me.” His voice is barely audible. She must ha一ve known. Perhaps Grace had
told her. Oh, my poor Fifty. I ha一ve to fold my hands beneath my pillow and
rest my head on it in order to resist the urge to hold him.
“Well, the next day I went back to the house, not knowing what to expect. And
I’ll spare you the gory details, but there was more of the same. And that’s
how our relationship started.”
Oh fuck, this is painful to hear.
He shifts again onto his side so he’s facing me.
“And you know something, Ana? My world came into focus. Sharp and clear.
Everything. It was exactly what I needed. She was a breath of fresh air.
Making the decisions, taking all that shit away from me, letting me breathe.”
Holy shit.
“And even when it all finished, my world stayed in focus because of her. And
it stayed that way until I met you.”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that? Tentatively, he smoothes a stray
lock of my hair behind my ear.
“You turned my world on its head.” He closes his eyes, and when he open
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