Page 29 of Unraveling with You

His eyes soften. “I’d love there to be.”

I beam. “Me too.”

“But what does that have to do with being brave?”

“I set him off by standing up to him for once. I’m sorry,” I rasp.

Remington stoops as if I’ve physically crushed him. He delicately grabs my cheeks. “Sweet, sweet girl, never apologize for this. I can’t imagine why anyone would feel the need to do this to you, let alone a dad to his own daughter. He's supposed to protect you, not bruise you.”

Oh, my heart felt those words - a gnawing ache appears, rooted deep in my soul. I look down, unable to withstand the sorrow in Remington's stare. Seeing it from a distance, I know what he’s saying is correct, but after visiting my parents, I fell right back into the panicked, fragile state my dad put me in when I left home at 18, especially since he did feel guilty, and he did try to repair it in his own way. It’s so confusing - receiving care from someone who turns violent in a flash. That’s why Remington’s touch, his words, and his gentle voice feel so new, no matter how many times he washes affection over me. His affection doesn’t rely on a threat.

Remington’s soft sigh carries an ache that stings my heart. “Can I rub out the bruise for you throughout the night?”

I bite my lip, tears pricking my eyes. I’ve never had anyone else help me do that before, but that’s exactly what I planned on doing before bed so I didn’t have to keep wasting makeup.

But I nod. “T-thank you. That would be nice.”

His shoulders soften. “Okay.”

Gingerly placing my hand into his palm, he lays my fingers flat before applying gentle, circling pressure along the bruise.

“Is this too painful?” He whispers.

I shake my head, struggling even more to keep myself from crying. My heart feels so protected by him.

Remington’s breath shakes. “Oh, God. Do you need a hug or some space? Are you still okay to eat dinner?”

I softly laugh, blinking away my threatened tears. Stroking Remington’s cheek, I give him the best reassuring smile I can manage. “Really, Rem, I’m okay. You sound more upset than I’ve been over it. Let’s just go eat dinner.”

He grows exceptionally quiet, straightening. But as we grasp hands, resuming our short walk to the restaurant, he mutters, “I wondered why you didn’t seem to stay traumatized for more than a day after what that trainer did. But of course that asshole trainer’s abuse didn’t feel any different to you. You’re swimming in it already, probably your whole life, so it was just another day.”

I don’t know what to say. He nailed down an aspect of myself that I’ve struggled to put together for a long time. Why I’m so quiet, so guarded, and so unable to do the things I want.

And I’m still at a loss on what to do about it. How to fix me.

All I can do is huddle my whole side against Remington’s tattooed arm, keeping my head lowered as we walk. Just before we enter the restaurant doors, Remington slows to a stop.

“Hey, can you look at me for a second?”

My heart flips, but I want to. Especially now that I know there’s an “us.”

When I peek up at him, he softens into a gentle smile. “There you go. I’m sorry we started off the night so heavily, but it’s not your fault, okay? You don’t have to believe it yet, but please at least listen to me; you deserve better than this.”

I huff out a smile, hurriedly blinking away my watery eyes. “Thank you. You’re the actual sweet one.”

“Oh,I’mthe sweet one? Are you sure about that?” He hums, turning to wrap his arms around me. I’m so relieved to see his half-up smile that I giggle, softening into his embrace.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I whisper.

We hold each other outside the restaurant, beaming. At one point, Remington sidesteps to allow another couple into the doorway, swooping me out of the way. “Sorry, folks. I got a little distracted by this rockstar here. Seriously, where did you get this sick studded jacket? I want one.”

My bright giggle warms his smile into a three-quarter grin, this time with teeth. I’ve never seen it on him before, so I can’t stop my eyes from widening.

Remington blinks fast when he looks back at me. “You look like you’re up to something.”

I laugh. “I just have a cute– A cute gym buddy, um, boyfriend?”

His sharp, startling laugh swirls through my heart. “I cannotbelievesomeone this cute exists. You really want to be my girlfriend?”

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