Dear Tabitha (23 page)

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Authors: Trudy Stiles

BOOK: Dear Tabitha
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He reaches for my hands, and I flinch. “Tabs, stop. The more you say things like that, the harder it’s going to be for you to believe the truth. You’re beautiful and perfect. I need you to believe that. Please.” He lets go of my right hand and places his palm against my cheek. “I love you.”

I gasp at his admission of love. How can he love me? The only person who has ever loved me is Trina. “How? How can you love me Alex?” I ask, choking back a sob.

“I could go on and on, Tabs. You can’t see it for yourself yet, but you are just perfect. I know that you’ve had some difficult times in the past. Actually, some really horrific experiences. But all of these make you the person that you are right now. You make me want to change. To be a better, stronger person. I want to do this for you. I need to be there for you. To love you.” He strokes my cheek with his fingertips. “Will you let me? Will you let me love you?”

His fingers catch my tears as they spill down my cheeks. I’ve never felt like this before and I’m terrified to let him in.

“I’ll try,” I whisper as he bends down and tenderly kisses me.

“Please, be patient with me,” I say against his lips. He needs to know that, even though physically and emotionally I am drawn to him, I can’t rush into anything intimate. I want to throw caution to the wind, but I just can’t.

“Forever,” he whispers back to me. “I’ll always be patient. I’ll wait forever.”

I close my eyes and settle against him.

Will I ever learn how to love?

Past

Age 20

 

I
T’S BEEN
almost two months since Tabby’s birthday, and I’ve noticed her demeanor shifting slightly for the better. Understandably, Halloween is a difficult time of year for her because of all that she has lost. She’s starting to come out of her funk now that it’s Christmas, and I’m thrilled to be one of the reasons for that.

For the past few nights, I’ve helped decorate her apartment for the holidays. I want to bring life into it and make it a peaceful, joyous place for her to be. We’ve hung lights and decorated her tree. She admitted that she hasn’t had her own Christmas tree since she was with Trina so many years ago, and I find that incredibly sad.

I had one every year despite the fact that my Pops wouldn’t have anything to do with it. My sister and I kept our holiday traditions alive as best as we could. It helped keep Mom’s memory close and alive in our hearts. There were several times that the tree was knocked over when Pops would beat the shit out of me, but Reagan and I always made sure we fixed it up after those incidents. When I moved in with Dax’s family, Christmas became even more of a tradition. The Andersons would decorate their home on Thanksgiving night after we devoured the turkey and finished watching football. They helped keep this holiday warm and special for me, and now I want to do that for Tabs.

I stop at the store to get everything I need to wrap Tabby’s presents. It’s already three o’clock, and I need to hurry because I’m spending Christmas Eve with her. We’re both nervous and we’ve talked about it extensively. I know that she’s not ready to be physically intimate with me, but we are taking small steps to get her there. Tonight is step one, my first sleepover.

~

I knock on her door and the soft Christmas music playing in her apartment reminds me of the Merry-Un-Halloween Birthday party and how much fun we had that night. She opens the door, a shy smile on her face.

“Hey,” she says softly as her eyes widen at the sight of my bags.

I hope she doesn’t change her mind because I really want to sleep holding her tonight and wake up with her in my arms on Christmas morning.

“Hi, Tabs.” I smile, looking into her eyes.

“You’re early.” She grins. “I haven’t had time to change yet.” She looks down at herself and blushes. The bottom hem of her long sleeved, grey tee shirt just meets the top of her black yoga pants and her ponytail is messy.

She’s beautiful.

“The time must have gotten away from me. I’ve been reading.” She moves aside so I can walk past her. I drop my bags near the door and scoop her into my arms.

“Don’t change. You look perfect.” I drop a light kiss on her lips and rub my nose against hers. I will not let her take off those hot yoga pants. Nope, not unless I’m taking them off of her.

She giggles and pulls away from me. “I haven’t even started cooking dinner yet. I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time today. I’ve been reading some of my favorite books and just lost track of time.” I see a couple of books scattered on her couch, but the one that jumps out at me is a coffee table book.

“What’s this?” I ask, holding it up. “Planning a vacation?”

I look at the cover –a picture of Mount Hood with Portland, Oregon written in large letters– and realize I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Not exactly,” her voice trails off.

I hate that her mood has just changed and that I’m the cause of it. Her memories of Portland are the reason for so much of her anxiety and panic. I place the book on the table and ask, “Why do you have this if you can’t stand thinking about Portland? Why do this to yourself?”

She shifts back and forth and grasps her hands together. “I’m trying to replace my memories with beauty. To see what I wasn’t able to see when I lived there. When I was a prisoner.” Her voice trails off, and she steps toward me. “It helps looking at the beautiful pictures. I don’t know why, it just does. I escape into an alternate reality when I look at the sites around the city and try to replace my real memories with these.”

Doesn’t seem the most healthy thing to do, but I don’t press her any further.

“Chinese,” I say, abruptly changing the subject.

“What?” she asks curiously.

“Forget cooking. Let’s order Chinese food for dinner. That was our holiday tradition at the Andersons.” I smile and she seems relieved.

“Sounds great! Besides, I’m a terrible cook and I wouldn’t want to run you out the door.”

“I would eat cardboard if it meant I could spend the night with you.” I reach out and lightly brush her cheek with my knuckles. I would do anything for her.

She chuckles. “Ha! Sounds about right. You would have been eating cardboard if you tasted my chicken.”

I’m happy to see the smile back on her face and I pull her into a tight hug.

“I love you, Tabs.”

She hasn’t said those words back to me yet, but I know that she loves me. She’s just afraid to admit it to me and herself. It’s okay, because I’ll wait forever to hear those words cross her lips.

“Let’s order,” she says as she pulls away. She heads into the kitchen to get the menu and I walk toward the Christmas tree in the window. It’s just getting dark outside, so I step on the switch to turn on the tree. Colorful lights reflect off the ornaments, making me want to do something that I haven’t done since I was a kid. I get down on the floor and flip onto my back. Closing my eyes, I slide under the branches of the tree, and then quickly open them to see all of the lights illuminating through the branches. Even though I was only little when Mom died, I remember her doing this with me and Reagan. I remember feeling the branches tickling my nose and how I used to giggle. My sister helped fill in my memories from way back then and I’m thankful that she kept these traditions alive after Mom died. This is and always will be my happy place.

“What are you doing?” Tabby laughs, and I quickly scoot out from under the tree.

“Just checking the lights,” I say, slightly embarrassed. “Yup, they all work.” I hesitate to tell her about my happy memories because I don’t want to upset her. I don’t know how many of these memories she had with Trina, and I don’t want to push her into a state of sadness and depression.

“Okay, good,” she says, placing the Chinese menu in my hand. “I’m having garlic chicken with broccoli and plain lo mein. You can share anything of mine as long as I can share yours.” Seeing a smile spread across her face never gets old.

“Sounds delicious. I’ll have sesame chicken and rice.” I hand the menu back to her and she grabs her phone. After she places our order, I help her set the table.

“Fancy plates for Chinese food,” I say and wink at her.

“Hey, don’t tease. It’s Christmas Eve. Believe me, Chinese food is way fancier than what I was about to cook for us, so it deserves nice tableware.” She laughs as she places the silverware next to the festive holiday plates.

“I didn’t know you liked Christmas as much as I did,” I say casually.

“I do now,” she says and smiles warmly. “I’m happy to be starting new traditions. With you.” Her words warm my heart and I’m thrilled to be breaking through her walls.

We finish setting the table and she proceeds to light several candles that sit in a festive centerpiece. “Ambiance,” she says.

The dim lighting in the apartment and the glow from the candles accentuate her beauty. I restrain myself from pulling her against me and ravaging her. I want her so much it hurts.

“You are stunning,” I say softly.

She seems a little uncomfortable so I divert my eyes back to the tree. We cleaned out the local holiday store of lights and decorations because she was starting from scratch. Dozens of silver, gold, and red glass balls hang from the branches. We also had fun adding a few Smurfs and Sesame Street character ornaments. Her favorites were the porcelain snowflakes that came in all different shapes and sizes. Her eyes lit up as she placed each of them onto the tree. It was like watching a child decorate a tree for the first time, and I hope that someday I’ll be able to witness that with my own children.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m not meant to have children. I should
never
have children of my own.
His
blood runs through me, and I’m terrified of becoming the type of father that he was.

I shake my head to erase the thought and turn back to Tabby.

“You okay?” she asks with concern on her face.

“Yeah,” I say and I need to change the subject. “So, Santa’s coming tonight.”

She laughs out loud. “Haha, where do you think he is right now? I think he just left the UK and is on his way over here to North America.”

There’s a knock on the door and I assume the Chinese food is here. “I’ll get it,” I say as I reach for my wallet and open the door.

“Hey, Merry Christmas!”

Seth! Fuck! What the hell is he doing here? We can’t seem to enjoy any happy occasion without him showing up, and ruining it for me. I can’t show my anger since Tabby is so fond of him, but shit, I can’t believe he’s here.

“Hi, Seth, c’mon in,” Tabby says from behind me.

Seriously? Jesus.

As I shut the door, there is another light knock. Now
that
must be the Chinese delivery person. I open the door, grab the bags, and hand him way too much money. “Merry Christmas,” I say to him as he thanks me and walks down the stairs. I bring the bags to the table and turn to Tabby. “Dinner is here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is a bad time, obviously,” Seth says. “I just wanted to bring Tabby’s gift.” He walks over and places a small box under the tree. “I’ll be on my way now.”

“Seth! You shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” she says, flashing her incredible smile, the smile that should only be for me. “And you just got here. Do you want something to drink? Or join us for dinner? We have plenty of food for the three of us.”

Is she fucking kidding? I almost open my mouth to stop this insanity but Seth speaks. “Absolutely not! I’m not here to get in the middle of you two lovebirds,” he winks at her. Fucking winks. He walks over to Tabby and pulls her into a tight embrace, kisses her on her forehead, and says, “Merry Christmas, Tabby. I hope it’s wonderful.”

She looks up at him, smiles and says, “Thank you, Seth.”

He turns toward me and extends his hand. I keep my hands in my pockets and glare at him until he drops his hand to his side. “Merry Christmas, Alex. Take care of our girl.” He glares back at me and walks past me to the door.

Tabby watches him leave and when the door closes, she looks at me with fire in her eyes. “What the hell, Alex? Why do you always treat him so horribly?”

She doesn’t see what I see. He’s in love with her. I can see it in his eyes and the way he treats her. He’s waiting for his moment to pounce, and I’m not going to let that happen. I’ve been patient with their friendship, but I just can’t do it anymore. He and I are going to have words. Soon.

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