Page 110 of Not Looking
He squeezed me to his chest. “You mean so much to me.”
He took a deep breath. “There is a phrase: ‘hurt people hurt people.’ Have you heard it?”
I nodded again.
“I know you didn’t mean to, but you hurt me tonight.” He paused as he started rubbing my back again. “I understand that I said something that hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. I reallyam. But I can’t take it back, either. I spoke my truth, and I had no way of knowing that it was going to touch such a deep pain in you.”
I felt the motion in his jaw as he swallowed. “The way you panicked wasn’t what hurt. I know you can’t control reactions like that. It’s how you shut me out after that. I wanted to talk—to understand what I’d done wrong.”
Another deep breath. “When I first started courting you, I knew there was something. But I was blindfolded as to what it was. Then Jessie told me some of what she knew. She told me I was in the middle of an emotional minefield. But at least the blindfold was gone.”
He kissed my hair. “But Randy, that minefield has had years of overgrowth. The outward scars are hard, if not impossible to see, and I’m going to stumble as I try to find my way to you. You’re used to walking through it. You might not know what triggers each one, but you know where they are.”
He sighed and rested his head against mine. “I’m not demanding a map—it might be too painful for you. But I am asking that when I accidentally trip over a mine, that you don’t treat me like it was intentional. I need you to understand that I’m going to make mistakes. The solution isn’t to shut me out, but to help me understand so that I don’t hurt you again.”
He kissed my hair. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Beautiful Randy.”
I sucked in a breath, then released it a few seconds later when no ‘but’ came—when there was no attempt to make it my fault. There was no excuse that I was overreacting or that I was too sensitive.
“I can’t take it back… I spoke my truth…”
I squeezed my eyes shut, and the shivers started again—this time out of fear.
“Randy?”
I pushed up from his chest, and he seemed to understand that I needed that bit of space as he let me go.
I sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on my thighs and hands clasped between my knees. My breathing was shallow as I tried to control my warring emotions.
Craig shifted to sit beside me and rubbed a hand up and down my back. On my other side, Russy jumped onto the couch and settled on his blanket—one paw out to rest against my leg.
While it was likely only a minute or two, it felt like forever before I was able to speak.
“Have… Has… Has I… I…” I swallowed. “Have you ever had ‘I love you,’ used against you?”
Craig was silent for several seconds before answering. “I’m sure it’s happened, but not in a way that's memorable.”
“You’re lucky…”
He leaned in and kissed my shoulder. “Can you tell me about it, or does it hurt too much?”
I forced a nod. “I… I’ll try.”
“Stop if it’s too much.”
“Ok.”
I shifted slightly to rest against him. I needed my alpha’s support.
His hand slid from my back to the arm not against him, but kept rubbing up and down.
“It’s hard for me to remember a time when those words weren’t a weapon of some kind,” I started. “But they’re the sneaky type. They’re what you think you want to hear, so you don’t see the signs.”
Craig kissed my hair. It said without words that he was there and listening.
“Worse, they’re a weapon with no defense,” I continued. “At least not a good one. Any attempt to question it, or point out that the actions aren’t those of love…”
I let out a dark chuckle.
