SERENA
“Wow.”
I snickered at Alex’s rather oversimplified description of what had just happened between us.
“What?” He protested, rolling me until I faced him, wrapped in his arms. “Don’t make me try for complete sentences right now. That was just... wow.”
Though I said nothing, I silently agreed. I’d had lots of sex, but it had all been pale blue compared to the scarlet and crimson of what had just happened.
“Will you stay overnight?” He mumbled into my hair. Drowsily, I agreed. My happiness in that moment was perfect.
Maybe, I thought... maybe I could actually have a normal life.
“Serena?” He asked again. Nuzzling into his neck, I smiled.
“You’re awfully chatty after sex,” I teased him. He tensed beside me.
“You’ve trusted me with your body now,” he started, and I felt my cloud of happiness begin to dissipate.
“Alex, no.” I pressed my fingers against his lips, but he shook them away.
“Serena, we’re together in every possible way. Why can’t you trust me with your secret?”
A chill began to paint my spine raising goose bumps where only moments earlier there had been delicious warmth.
I felt a surge of irritation.
“You have things you won’t tell me, too,” I snapped, pushing back from him. I sat up, holding the covers to my chest.
Alex sat up as well, and a moment later the lamp snapped on. I gasped as I pulled the covers up to hide my arms, my shoulders. He pinched his lips tightly together at my movements, tossing his discarded T-shirt at me while he huffed out an exasperated breath.
“There’s a big difference, Serena.” He raked his hand through his hair, making it stand up in little spikes while I tried to get the T-shirt over my head without letting my scars show.
“You want to know about my past?” Alex shoved back the covers and climbed out of bed. Standing there, naked and unabashed, he looked a little wild, but I didn’t feel like I was in any danger.
“When I was sixteen I lived with a couple named Karina and Joss. Joss wasn’t home a lot, and Karina did a lot of things to get attention from him.” Alex’s lips pressed together in a thin line.
“Alex, you don’t have to tell me this.” I looked down at my fingers, feeling as if his words were tearing me in two. “Everyone has secrets.”
“Not like this.” The crystal color of his eyes glittered with conviction. “And the two of us together, we have too much baggage to have a relationship. Not unless some of those bags go overboard.”
The only way I could rid myself of my baggage was if I went back to the house I’d lived in as a teen. I’d have to confront Felicity, to confront him.
The thought made nausea coat my throat, and I gagged.
“Do you want some water?” He asked, impatient. Even when he was mad at me, Alex took care of me. I didn’t understand it.
“No.” My voice sounded dry, but if I drank even a sip I’d throw it up. I swallowed against the sandpaper of my throat, then sat back on my heels.
Alex continued.
“Have you ever heard of Münchausen syndrome by proxy?”
I shook my head, though the lyrics of an old Eminem song played through my head.
“It refers to the abuse of another person, usually a child, by their caretaker for the sake of attention.”
“Oh, God.” My heart broke for him as I intuited what was about to follow. “No.”
Alex nodded sharply. I wanted nothing more than to cross to him, to wrap my arms around him, to soothe the hurt away, but his arms were crossed tightly across his chest, warning me away.
“First it started with the burns. You’ve seen the scars. She would burn me with her cigarettes, then tell the social workers that I was doing it to myself. I was a difficult teenager, and it wasn’t hard to believe.”
My fingers itched to run over those scars. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I crawled across the bed and took his upper arms in my hands. He flinched, his expression raw, but didn’t shrug me away.
“Then she figured out that she could use my diabetes to better effect.”
My mouth fell open; I simply couldn’t imagine someone doing that.
“She would overdose my insulin so that I hit what’s called an extreme low. A diabetic who passes out from low blood sugar needs a dose of something called Glucagon, which she may or may not administer right away, depending on her mood. Even if she decided to give me the Glucagon, I would be miserable for days afterwards—it doesn’t feel good. So she’d get lots of attention from that.” His words were dark. I watched as the Alex I knew and cared for retreated into his memories. I scarcely dared to breathe, afraid to disturb him.
“On the other end of the pendulum was diabetic ketoacidosis. She would withhold insulin so that my sugars would go high. More than a day or two of that for an insulin dependent diabetic is really dangerous. But apart from restricting my intake of carbs, there wasn’t anything I could do.”
My heart ached for the boy Alex had been.
“Did she do stuff to Georgeanne, too?” My voice was a harsh whisper.
Alex shook his head, his muscles tense beneath my fingers.
“She knew Georgeanne would rat her out. She was verbally abusive, really nasty, but never physically harmed her.”
I wanted to shut my eyes against the images his words painted, but couldn’t, not as long as he was looking at me as if I was his lifeline.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I had no one to tell.” His voice was soft, low.
“You said that Tripp got you out?” I asked softly. He nodded, a sharp, jerky motion of his head.
“Georgeanne left as soon as she was eighteen, but she wasn’t about to leave me alone. She made noise wherever she could, telling anyone in the system who would listen about what was going on with Karina and Joss. She made a few ripples, but everyone thought she was just troubled and angry from living in foster care for so long.”
He paused to suck in a breath. I didn’t interrupt.
“One day she laid out her case to a very young, very new social worker, one who had been a foster kid himself. He was the only one smart enough to wonder why Georgeanne would bother making a fuss now. She was eighteen; she wasn’t in the system anymore. What was it to her?”
“That was Tripp,” I guessed.
“That was Tripp.” Alex blinked, and his eyes came back into focus. “He was only ten years older than I was, but he took me in as a foster kid. Kept me out of trouble. Got Karina and Joss banned from ever fostering again.”
He turned his eyes to me, and the expression in them took my breath away.
“I’ve never told that to anyone. I never even had to tell Tripp, because Georgeanne told him most of it.” He said. Instead of looking at me like he was daring me to still love him, he seemed... calm.
“Now you know.” Still searching my face with his eyes, he reached out and tucked a strand of my sex snarled hair behind my ear. “There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me think any differently of you. I promise you that, and I mean it.”
“I believe you.” I began to shake, and the nausea that I had been holding back during his story came back full force. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, so there was nothing to come up, but Alex grabbed his wastebasket and held it under my chin while I dry heaved, my entire body shaking violently.
He rubbed my back, the spot between my shoulder blades.
“See? You can even make me think you’re going to puke all over my bed. I’ll still love you.”
I froze when his word choice entered my poor bewildered brain. I turned to him with wide eyes, my lips glued shut. I couldn’t repeat it only to find that it had been a slip of the tongue.
“I love you, Serena.” His words were matter of fact, the intent clear.
I sat back, blinked—I was stunned.
“Silence isn’t exactly what I’d hoped for when I said that to you.” A hint of unease slithered through the cracks of his confidence. I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again as the words escaped me.
“Okay. Let’s do it this way.” Placing the empty wastebasket on the ground, Alex pulled me into his lap. I buried my face in his chest, overwhelmed.
“Do you love me, Serena?” The patience in his voice was infinite. I sucked in a breath, then nodded. I knew I didn’t imagine the relieved breath that rounded his chest when I finally agreed.
“Do you trust me?”
Again I nodded, but he didn’t ask any more questions. I finally looked up to find him waiting, patiently.
“Alex, I want to tell you.” I wasn’t stalling for time. I really did want to tell him, since I’d finally clued in that telling someone simply meant sharing the burden.
“I’m not going to judge you.”
“I know.” It wasn’t that. The problem was that, after so many years of ingrained silence, the words simply wouldn’t come unglued.
“I’ll try, Alex. I will. But... not tonight.” The rest of the words were stuck in my throat. He sighed, and I was terrified that I had disappointed him. But rather than shove me out the door, he laid down on the bed with me still cradled in his arms.
“You’re right. That’s enough for one night.” Turning to his side, he pulled me into him, my face pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
“Thank you.” I whispered. He reached over with one arm and snapped off the light. I blinked at the sudden darkness, which wrapped around me like a hug.
“We’re made for each other.” His words were barely discernible, whispered into my hair.
I nodded, too tired to do anything else. Worming my way even more tightly into his arms, I savored his heat, his scent, knowing that with morning would come yet more repercussions from the secrets of my past.