Page 10 of Hard to Judge

I go to her, pick up her legs, sit, and then set her feet on either side of my thighs. Rolling forward, I burrow my face into her belly and hug her.

Her fingers sift through my hair. She massages my scalp and lets me work out my demons. There are so many. She knows most of them. I’ve named each one but haven’t faced them all. Not yet. This one, this one might be bigger and darker than all the rest.

It’s the only one that I created.

My decision gave it life.

It is my greatest regret.

“Hota has always taken care of me. From the first day we met, he had my back. For a long time, I hated him for it.” I breathe Hailey in and hold her deep, taking the strength I need to continue. “I didn’t have anyone, and I was afraid to rely on someone again. That bastard, my uncle, had already stopped me from talking to Blakely. The universe had already taken my family.”

“The only thing scarier than nothing to lose is having something to lose.” Hailey’s words pour over me as she maps the arch of my brows and the line of my jaw. She knows this truth more than most. It’s what made her nearly impossible to reach.

“He was persistent, and for a while, we were happy. I was happy, sneaking into his room every night and sleeping in his bed, never touching him, but just being close and in his presence.”

My hands rove the contour of her waist and hips as I lean against the chair's back. My eyes find hers.

“Hota was always sexual and confident in a way that had been beaten out of me. He and Nate did stuff but not in his dorm room, and they didn’t fuck, not until…” I let that thought fade, needing to start elsewhere. “Do you remember when I said I didn’t have a good canvas for tattoos, but Hota did?”

“Of course.” She toys with the basilisk inked into her side through the silk of her robe.

“Blakely and I had been talking weekly again for months since I was at school. Then one day, her mom called and let me know she was dead. I couldn’t feel anything. No sadness. No loss. Nothing. I locked myself in the bathroom and took a razor to my skin.”

Her gaze drops to the rows of scars along my inner thigh, hidden beneath my slacks. She has seen them. Kissed them. Tongued them.

“That night, Hota broke into the bathroom and…” Tears sting my eyes as the memories wash over me. My lips tremble, and my jaw shakes. “He said, ‘If you hurt yourself, I hurt myself,’ and lifted the blade to his skin. He knew it was the only way to get me to stop, and I knew…I knew then that I loved him.”

I look at Hailey, waiting for the shock or outrage to come, the jealousy. Tears slip down her cheek, but they swoop over the wondrous etches of her smile.

“We crossed a line that night and the next morning. Not all the way, but I touched him, and he touched me.” Longing carves me like a Halloween pumpkin. “We were happy. I was happy despite Blakely and my uncle. We would have been happy together.”

My tears descend in a deluge. I’m not a crier. I’ve only cried a handful of times in my life. I’m shocked to realize most of those times have been with Hota and Hailey.

She presses her legs together, pulls my head to her lap, and welcomes my anguish. More than most, she knows it brings catharsis. Or, at least, it should. It won’t, though.

Not this time.

I retch out my sorrow and remorse until my tears run dry, my abs hurt from contracting, and my lungs smolder. Still, nothing has changed.

“What happened, Arlo?”

“I fucked it up.” I lift my head. Her green gaze is open, and her pink lips are reassuring. “My uncle came that morning to collect me for the holidays. Hota begged me to stay. He begged me to report what my uncle had done to me. He promised to be my witness and be my support.” I shake my head in a slow back and forth, willing the decision away.

“I chose to end my uncle instead of reporting him. Only, I had to endure that visit before I could make a clean break.” A nice euphemism for murder. “I made Hota promise not to follow andnot to interfere. And that last visit…” I choke on my own words. “It broke me.”

“That’s why the holidays are so hard for you and him,” Hailey murmurs.

I wipe my eyes on my sleeves and nod. “After that holiday, everything we were shredded against my jagged edges.”

“Not everything.” Hailey cups my chin. “He’s still in your life. You are still in his. You love him, and he loves you.”

I know he’s loyal, and I know he’s my guy, but I don’t know how he could still love me. Not after the hell I’ve put him through. Not after falling in love with Hailey and opening up myself to her when I never could with him.

“I made him fuck Nate.”

Her fingers smooth over my skin.

“Tell me,” she urges.

---