Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

59. Here Goes Nothing

59

here goes nothing

Selah

Manhattan, NY | March 28, 2024

“It felt so real. It’s not real. He’s not here and he isn’t coming back. I am safe. I am free.” I repeat to myself in a breathless chant. Tears stream down my face while the freshness of the dream still lingers in my mind. Menacing dark eyes staring back at me and a familiar presence that took my breath away. I saw him. He was here, in my apartment walking through my bedroom watching me sleep. Jourdan.

The nightmares have increased lately. It’s frustrating because whenever I’m making real progress, I’m pushed ten steps back. Between this and the sleepless nights, I feel as if I’m being punished for getting to know someone new. It’s like this is his way of reminding me that I’ll never be whole again. It’s impossible to be whole when you don’t even know who you were before them.

It doesn’t matter how much time has passed or how much you have grown, your abuser will always haunt you. A permanent fixture in your mind that you’d do anything to remove. You could keep driving, cross state lines and start a whole new life like I did. Some days are easier than others, but the work is never done. I just wish this never happened to me. I wish I never met Jourdan. I hate that I’m still battling this in his absence. I hate that there’s no estimated timeline of when I’ll feel better. There’s no handbook to healing but if there was, I’d flip to the fucking end pages and find the answer key.

I know because of Jourdan I won’t be normal again and I hate it. Sometimes I find myself getting frustrated with Greyson. I don’t show it, but I feel it. I get angry because he’s just so kind and patient, I don’t understand how someone couldn’t love him. He explained what caused his marriage to end, but I’m sure he’s different now because I see a man very deserving of love. So much so, that it’s easy to get caught in his orbit and forget how impossible that is for me.

Sometimes, I wonder what being loved by him feels like, but I don’t allow myself to think about it for too long. I understand what we have right now is as good as it gets for me, and I won’t ruin that with daydreams of what could be. My therapist is confident that I’ll eventually be able to let someone in, maybe even Greyson, if I want to. I don’t understand how I can’t even enjoy a good night’s sleep without being haunted by my past. If I’m not having a nightmare, I’m tossing and turning in fear of having one. There’s chaos in my world, I couldn’t bring a man like that a sliver of peace. I keep thinking about what Elena said on his birthday.

You’ve created a recipe for Greyson to fall in love with you.

I got a glimpse of what it would look like if we were together at his birthday dinner, and I realized something. The man is a sorcerer. The thought of him causes my body to betray me, heightening my senses. He’s discovered every zone and magical button to drive me wild. I don’t need anybody, but when Greyson is present, I need him . His good nature can make anyone feel like a main character in his story. His way with words and mindfulness have me convinced he’s a figment of my imagination. It’s as if he’s studied every book I love and emulated the exact man I’ve desired. That sounds unbelievable, doesn’t it? I’m not so lost in fiction that I can’t tell the difference. I know this isn’t a romance novel. This is my life and I’m not chasing a happily ever after. I know that’s not in the cards, but a girl can dream. That’s a far better one than I see when my eyes shut.

I know I’ll regret this later, but I’m breaking my own rule. I grab my phone and call Greyson. My heart races out of my chest with each ring.

He picks up with a groggy voice. “Sunflower, what’s wrong?”

“Can I come over? I don’t want to be alone.”

“What? Of course.”

“Will you stay on the phone with me?”

“I will.”

As I get out of the bed and start readying myself to leave my apartment. I’m silent, but he can sense my anxiety over the line, like he always does. He keeps me distracted by spewing out random fun facts, some about himself and some not. It’s making me smile as I get dressed to leave. I’m working on my breathing as I make my way to the elevator and he remains on the line, as promised. When I watch the numbers ascend, his gravelly voice assures me he’s still here and not to be alarmed when the doors open. He warns that there’s a really good looking guy waiting outside the elevator for some reason. I chuckle for the first time since I woke up and sure enough when the doors open, there is a really good looking guy waiting outside.

Concern etched across his face as he opens his arms wide to welcome me. I dart over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he envelops me into a hug. The familiarity of his scent causes me to nestle into him until I rest my head on his hard chest. I savor his touch and while it’s been a few days, I realize how much I’ve missed it. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head and a single tear escapes me. Before I can wipe it away, it soaks through his shirt. He doesn’t acknowledge it, only pulls me in tighter and we stay like that for a while. Anyone could walk by, but it’s late and we just don’t care.

“Let’s get you inside. C’mon.”

I nod and extend my arms around his neck, so he reaches under my thighs to pick me up, carrying me to the door. He lets us in and removes my shoes. I look over to see Clifford in his bed, too sleepy to react. Grey carefully navigates the dark hallway until we enter his bedroom. He sits me on the bed and climbs in beside me, opening his arms so I snuggle into him. I peel off my sweats, which he tosses onto a nearby chair.

I take a deep breath as my heart pounds. He opened up to me and I should do the same.

“I want to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.”

“I-I have nightmares. Vivid ones of my ex. I told you we were engaged, that I didn’t want to marry him. I was just afraid of how he’d react if I said no.”

I pause, gathering my thoughts and he rubs his thumb over my balled-up fist.

Here goes nothing.

“I haven’t said this out loud to anyone besides my therapist, but he was abusive. It was mostly emotional and verbal abuse, but he got physical sometimes. I left two years ago and never looked back. It’s made it difficult for me to imagine myself in a new relationship, especially when I’m still haunted by my past.”

Judging by his breath on my neck, I know he’s upset, but he remains silent.

“I have PTSD because of him. I know you’ve noticed I startle easily, but you never draw attention to it. And when I’m anxious you know how to soothe me. Before I called you, I saw him in my dream. He was in my apartment. In my room. It was just a nightmare, but I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers and presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Has he tried to contact you or come around since you left? You’d tell me if he did?”

I shake my head. “I would tell you, but he hasn’t bothered me for a long time now. Almost two years now. He isn’t coming back.”

I figure if I say that enough times out loud, it may come true.

He could evaporate from my thoughts and never bother me again.

If I could wish for anything it’d probably be that.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. Any man who puts his hands on a woman is a fucking coward and he better hope he never runs into me. I hate to hear that you’ve been battling this alone.”

I shift to face him and nestle into his chest. His pained expression softens as he wraps his arms around me.

“Thanks for being there for me. I know I broke my rule,” I admit.

He snorts, “that’s exactly what it is, a rule you made and keep breaking. I never liked it to begin with.”

“And why is that?”

“I think you sleep better in my bed,” he states while pulling the covers over us.

I hum to myself.

I do. I don’t say that though.

greyson

As the morning light illuminates my room, I smile to myself as I take in every curve and edge of my little Sunflower. She slept soundly through the night, and I made sure to readjust her bonnet anytime it started to slip off. She would not have been happy if she woke up and her curls were set free. Like I said, she sleeps better in my bed. She doesn’t have to admit it when it’s a proven fact. The most beautiful woman in the world is sleeping in my bed, on my chest, safe and sound. She’s exactly where she needs to be.

I couldn’t go back to sleep after what she shared, but I’m glad she could get some rest. I’m not upset that she hadn’t felt comfortable sharing until now, I’m upset that it happened at all. The thought of that fucking guy harming her infuriates me. The fact that she’s been tormented for years makes me sick to my stomach.

When she wakes up, we’re throwing out the no sleepovers rule. It’s her choice if she wants to sleep here or not, and I’ll respect it, but the rule itself has to go. She’s always welcome here and if she ever wants me to sleep at her place, I certainly don’t mind. However, if I can make her feel safe and protected, I will.

I mean, fuck. I love Selah and she just told me what she’s afraid of. It makes sense why she is comfortable with this arrangement. She’s not stuck with me if things went sideways. Her heart is safer if we keep things the way they are, but mine isn’t. I can’t be the only one feeling a greater pull between us, but I will be the first to acknowledge it. I plan to tell her sooner than later. She doesn’t have to say it back, I’ll gladly love her until she catches up. Near or far.