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“WHERE ARE WE?” I ask as Landon expertly navigates through the parking lot decorated strategically with flowering bushes and crape myrtle trees in every color imaginable. The colorful buds are vibrant on the branches, the sweet fragrance of each bloom carried on the breeze into the car through the cracked windows tickling my senses.
“The Village.” His answer is short but doesn’t help me to understand what I’m looking at. There are people everywhere, walking with shopping bags slung over their arms and pleasure filled smiles crossing their sun kissed faces.
“That doesn’t tell me anything.” I can’t take my eyes off the buildings all around us as we finally pull into a spot on the edge of the lot. There are sidewalks in every direction, Dutch architecture buildings lining the makeshift streets and going on for miles in a multitude of colors. Pinks, blues, greens, all blending together from one shop to the next. Storefront windows decorated with the latest spring fashions and accessories. Without waiting for Landon, I open my door and step out of the car and pull my sleeves down to my fingertips before closing my fist around them to hold them in place. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You’re going to love it. Everything you could ever imagine is available here. Come on.” He walks around the front of the car and reaches a hand in my direction. He doesn’t grab me, but waits for me to meet him halfway, allowing me to make the decision on whether to be touched. I don’t hesitate to reach out and clasp his hand in mine and my heart does a little flip in my chest as the corners of his mouth tip up in a victorious smile.
“That still doesn’t tell me what we’re doing here,” I say as I watch him out the corner of my eye.
He doesn’t stop walking, pulling me across the street separating the parking lot from the entrance to The Village. “Shopping.”
I stop walking as soon as we reach the sidewalk. He takes another couple of steps before my hand pulls him to a stop and he turns to look at me. Cocking his head to the side, he narrows his eyes before asking, “What are you doing?”
“I can’t go shopping, Landon.”
“Why not?” I don’t answer him, and he steps closer to me. Releasing my hand, he reaches up and pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face up to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong, Emi?”
“I can’t go shopping.”
“You said that already.” There’s a cool breeze blowing today, and a few hairs have escaped from my ponytail, fluttering across my face, and tickling my nose. Letting go of my chin, he uses his fingertips to smooth the stray hairs away from my forehead, tucking them behind my ear and cupping my cheek in his palm. “What’s going through that adorable head of yours?”
I don’t break my gaze away from his. His eyes soften as he waits patiently for me to find the right words. But how do I explain to him what I’m thinking? How do I tell him I don’t want him spending his money on me even though I don’t have anything to spend on myself? A shiver runs down my spine and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to avoid breaking the silence. I don’t want him to pity me, I don’t need his pity.
Landon takes another step closer, our toes touching when he stops moving. His thumb traces my cheekbone softly and I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to actually enjoy the touch of another person, usually it would take time before I would even feel comfortable being this close to anyone, much less being touched by them. But with Landon, it just feels natural – right. I may not know him very well yet, but I know that he won’t hurt me. We’re like two lost souls that have been searching for our way back to each other. We recognize each other on a subconscious level.
“Come on,” he starts before leaning in and pressing his lips against my forehead. The burn that starts at the point of contact runs down my entire body, igniting my toes on fire as they curl in my sneakers. I’ve read in several books about the sweet, intimate moments when the man kisses the woman on the forehead. A sign of respect and adoration. But having finally experienced such an act in real life is a totally different scenario.
It's almost overwhelming – the overload of all my senses in a single day. The feel of his hand as he continues to caress my cheek. The deliciously masculine scent of soap and musk. The warm press of his lips against my forehead. I could dissolve into a puddle at his feet right now and be the happiest glob of goo on the planet.
“You need clothes and things.” He steps away from me finally, his hand falling away from my cheek. “And we have somewhere to be this afternoon, so we need to get a move on.” He reaches out for my hand, twining our fingers together as we continue to walk again. “And just so you’re aware, I’m paying for everything. I feel bad that I dragged you away from your home and your job. But I don’t regret it after seeing what that monster has been doing to you. You deserve so much better than the life you’ve been living in Independence, and I feel a strong desire to take care of you. Will you let me do that for you, Emi?”
I don’t answer right away. I’m still somewhat embarrassed at the thought of him paying for things for me. I mean, I don’t even really know him. Not that I don’t want to. I want to know everything about Landon.
He stops moving and turns to face me. “I mean it, Emi. I want to take care of you.”
“Okay,” I whisper, my gaze turning toward the sidewalk. Then, something else he mentioned strikes me as odd. “Wait. You said we had somewhere to be this afternoon. Where else could we possibly have to be besides The Village?”
“I called a friend of mine that works at a clinic. I made you an appointment to see a doctor there to have those cuts on your arms looked at. I want to make sure everything is healing up okay. Not to mention those bruises on your lower back.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. I just want to make sure you’re okay, Emi. That’s all.”
“Okay,” I concede, knowing there’s no point in arguing. We start walking again silently, my hand still held tightly in his.
We visit several shops in The Village, loading up armfuls of clothing that I really don’t even need if it weren’t for the fact that all of my things are still at the house in Independence. I get about a dozen pairs of yoga pants and long-sleeved t-shirts, Landon thought they would be more comfortable than a heavy sweater while my arms are healing. We ended up in a boutique that specialized in hand made soaps and fragrances and he bought me several varieties of floral bath products that I fell in love with while in the shop.
“Are you hungry?” Landon asks as he puts the last of our purchases into the trunk of his car.
Shaking my head side to side, I look at him over the top of the car. “Not really.” My body isn’t used to eating more than once a day and we had a rather large breakfast before leaving the apartment this morning. I don’t know how long it will be before I’m able to eat like a normal person again without feeling sick to my stomach. I guess I’ll make sure to ask the doctor during my appointment this afternoon.
“Okay,” he walks over and opens my door for me to get into the car. Once I’m in and my seatbelt is buckled, he tips his wrist to check the time on his watch before closing my door. “We have about forty-five minutes before your appointment but it’s on the other side of town. It will probably take us about a half hour to get there and you’ll need to do paperwork. If you’re hungry afterwards, we can go out for dinner.”
Wordlessly, I nod my head as he closes my door. My hands twist nervously in my lap as he drives across town. The traffic isn’t as bad as I thought it would be in the middle of a weekday, so we arrive at the office after only twenty minutes.
“I’ll come in with you and sit in the waiting room. I won’t go back with you though when you see the doctor. I’ll give you your privacy.”
“Thank you,” I tell him honestly. I’m nervous about seeing a doctor but I do want to go in there by myself. I do appreciate him not forcing me to have him go back with me though. Not that I’m worried about him hearing about anything that’s gone on with me, but I don’t know if I would be able to speak honestly with him there. I wouldn’t be able to get the words out if he watches me with pity in his eyes.
After checking in with the receptionist, I take the clipboard and a pen and sit in an over padded leather chair next to Landon. The paperwork is pretty straightforward, but unfortunately, I don’t know what to put for most of the information. I don’t have insurance, or a phone number for contact. I don’t even know who to put down for an emergency contact. Nervously, I tap the pen against the page. The constant tap, tap, tap of the pen hitting the clipboard is a constant focal point in my head, breaking through the erratic thoughts streaming through my head like a movie.
“Your birthday was yesterday?” Landon asks, his voice breaking me out of my anxious thoughts.
“Yeah,” I whisper back. I fist my hand around the pen and force myself to stop tapping it against the page. “April fools, right?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone that was born on April Fool’s Day before.”
I don’t say anything back to him. My birthday is something that I haven’t thought of since my mother passed away. She always made it a big deal, but instead of singing Happy Birthday to me every year, she would present me a mangled cake and scream “April Fools!” as she set it on the table. The cake was always atrocious looking but delicious. I think she prided herself on the one day every year that she could purposely destroy a perfectly good cake before presenting it to anyone to eat. It was like an annual challenge to see how bad it could look from one year to the next. I never thought I would miss those hideous looking cakes.
“Emilee Jackson?” I hear called from across the waiting room. Looking down at the clipboard, I see that I haven’t even finished filling out the information.
“I’ll wait here,” Landon whispers in my ear, his hand pressing between my shoulder blades gently to help me stand.
Clutching the clipboard in one hand, the pen tightly in the other, I walk across the room toward the open door. I don’t look back at Landon as I step closer to the nurse, her forced smile sending a shiver up my spine. I don’t know why I’m nervous, I have no reason to be afraid of seeing a doctor. It’s been a while since I’ve been to one so I’m not sure what to expect.
“I’ll take that,” she says as I step closer to her side. She holds the door wide with one hand, grabbing the clipboard with her other. She doesn’t even look at the paper and I feel a little guilty for leaving so much of it blank. I watch out the corner of my eye as she places her tablet on top of the clipboard, effectively covering up my information. She steps inside the door, and I jolt in surprise at the loud click of it closing behind us.
Neither one of us speaks as she directs me to a small room where a table, chair, and scale sit against the far wall. She motions for me to step onto the scale, and I watch as she moves the small weights left and right until they balance out perfectly. She taps her findings into the tablet before directing me to sit so she can take my blood pressure with an electric cuff that feels like it’s squeezing the life out of my arm. Maybe I should have said something about the bruises and cuts on my upper arm before letting her attach me to this machine. It hurts a lot worse than I thought it would and I grimace against the pain, biting the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.
After removing the cuff from my arm, she directs me to another room where she has me sit on the table. Thankfully, she doesn’t direct me to remove any of my clothing. “The doctor will be in soon.” She closes the door without giving me time to respond and I’m left to my own thoughts while I wait.
After what feels like an hour, but may have only been a few minutes, a woman walks into the room. She doesn’t look up immediately, her gaze focused on the tablet in her hand. “Good afternoon, Emilee,” she greets me as she closes the door softly behind her. She looks to be in her mid-forties with her grey streaked red hair pulled back in a tight bun at the base of her neck. She’s dressed in a loose-fit pant suit with a white lab coat covering her arms, a stethoscope peeking out of her jacket pocket. “I’m Doctor Casey. Do you mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?”
“Okay,” I answer on a shaky breath. She sits and rolls the stool closer to the side of the table I’m sitting on, the tablet left sitting on the table on the opposite side of the room.
“So, what brings you here today?”
“Umm,” I’m not sure how to answer that question. “To be honest, I didn’t even know I was coming to see you.”
“I see.” She reaches over and picks the tablet up, tapping the screen once to wake it up. “That’s fine. I have a few notes.” She silently reads over whatever information is on the screen, humming a few times to herself as she nods her head. “So, you just turned twenty?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a little underweight, but your blood pressure looks good. Not too low. I’d like to get some labs drawn while you’re here if that’s okay.”
“I guess so.”
“Don’t worry,” she looks up at me with a soft smile. “My nurses are really good at blood draws. You won’t even feel it.” I nod as she turns her gaze back to the tablet. “Hmm.” She stretches her arm out to set the tablet down again before rolling away from me and standing up. “Would you mind taking off the sweater?”
My lips are pressed tightly in a line as I lean forward slightly to pull the bottom of my sweater from beneath where I’m sitting on it. Slowly, I pull my arms out of the sleeves, careful not to upset my tender bruises. I hear the doctor gasp in surprise as my first arm becomes visible to her. She reaches out and takes the sweater from me once it’s removed and sets it across a chair.
“These look like they’re fading.” She wraps her cold fingers around my wrist and twists my arm from side to side to get a better look. “This is healing nicely.” I watch as she traces one of the cuts on my upper arm softly. “It might leave a scar. Do you have any more bruises besides the ones on your arms?”
“Yes.” I lift the hem of my shirt and watch as she leans to look around to my back. My gaze never leaves her face as she assesses the bruises below my ribs and along my kidneys. Without saying anything, she nods her head a few times and steps away to sit back on the stool.
“Is there someone I can call for you? Do you need someplace to go?”
I’m not sure why she’s asking me that. I’m here with Landon, and he’s been keeping me safe since he took me away from Independence. My brows lower in confusion while she taps the screen of her tablet, obviously entering her own notes about her observations.
“Look, Emilee.” She stands and steps closer before placing a hand softly on my shoulder. “I’m sorry that this has happened to you. But I want to make sure you’re safe. If he’s hurting you then I’d like to help you find somewhere safe to go so he can’t hurt you anymore.”
“I am safe.”
“You don’t have to defend him, sweetie.”
It finally hits me what she’s thinking, and I jerk away from her touch. “You think Landon did this?” She lowers her arm, and her brows raise in question. “It wasn’t Landon. Landon got me away from it. Believe me, I’m safe.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. But you’d be surprised how many abusers bring their loved ones in here and pretend like nothing’s going on. You can’t fault me for making sure you were safe.”
“Can I have my sweater back please?” I’m anxious to get this visit over with. Nodding her head, she reaches out for my sweater and helps me put it back on.
The rest of the visit goes by smoothly, if not a little quietly. She doesn’t say much as she goes over some information with me. Another nurse comes in a draws two vials of blood, she has me pee in a cup because she says she’s worried about the bruises over my kidneys. I’m given a few pamphlets on a suggested high protein diet in order to gain back some of the weight that I’ve lost since I’ve only been eating once per day. Of course, she also suggests that I start with small meals, so I don’t make myself feel sick during the day. I have to reacclimate my stomach to eating regular sized meals again. She also tells me that when I start to gain some of my weight back and replace some of the nutrients that I’ve been neglected of, that my periods will start again. It’s been more than a year since I’ve had one. I asked her about birth control, but she decided it wouldn’t be a good idea until my cycles start again.
The nurse walks me back out to the waiting room where Landon is still sitting patiently waiting for me. He stands as soon as he sees me, and I walk straight toward him. He doesn’t reach for me when I get near, which I appreciate, but holds his hand toward the door to direct me to walk ahead of him as we leave. He doesn’t ask about the doctor, and I don’t offer any information. I’m just ready to get back to his apartment and put an end to this crazy hectic day.