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Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {19}

Chris Evans x Reader Series

Warning: Flashback, TRIGGERING CONTENT, Violence, Heavy Cursing, Heavy Angst, Fluff, PLENTY OF WORDS, Plot

**Mention of PHYSICAL ABUSE {ONE HIT}

DO NOT READ IF MENTIONS OF THIS ARE UNCOMFORTABLE

Words: 7.7k

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: Q1 | Q2 | Q3 | Q4 | Q5 | Q6 | Q7 | Q8 | Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | Q16 | Q17 | Q18 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

“No. No. Stop. No!”

Those were the sounds that stirred him from his sleep. Normally he was dead to the world, but since quarantine began, he was a lite sleeper. With you beside him, he found himself somewhere in the middle. He turned his head around to face you; the sleep still fogging his vision.

“Please, stop. Stop. No. Noo!”

You were whining now. There was no way this was a good dream; it was a nightmare. You were lying on your back with the sheet stretched across your breasts. Suddenly you began thrashing from side to side. This was more than a nightmare. He jumped into action, springing to his knees from his laying position on his stomach. As he was about to touch you, you flailed your legs out, kicking the sheet off of your body. Your scream was gut-wrenching and piercing. So much so that he could hear the animals in the shrubbery surrounding the cabin stir and rustles through the foliage.

“Y/N!”

Your arms flung out, and you began physically trying to fight him. He tried to grab hold of your arms to still your body, but you were surprisingly strong—stronger than he’d realized. As he dodged your nails and an onslaught of blows, he grabbed your biceps and held you to the bed.

“Y/N!”

That was when your whimpers began as you continued to thrash. Tears rolled down the sides of your face, and his heart sank. He hated seeing you cry.

“Y/N, wake up!”

Your body stilled, then your eyes flew open. You didn’t look at him, though. You stared straight up into the ceiling with them wide as if you’d seen the most terrifying thing in the world.

“Y/N?”

Cautiously he released your arms. You didn’t move to get up. You didn’t begin to speak either. You laid there staring at the ceiling with tears streaming down your face. Your whimpers increased, and he noticed your body move as if someone were holding you down while you were trying to get up. You shook as he’d never seen anyone shake. It was an immobilized shake.

He was beginning to freak out and was ready to call Scott at this point. He’d never seen you like this, and he didn’t know what to do. The only logical thing to him was to try to shake you. It was evident to him now that you were not awake, you must have been in a weird in-between state of a dream and a sleepwalking episode. He didn’t even know you sleepwalked.

“Y/N. Wake up. Come on, baby, wake up.”

Through his soft coaxing and gentle shakes, you didn’t move. That was when your mouth opened. It looked like a scream, and it should have been loud, but it was silent. There was terror in your eyes; he recognized it. He’d seen something similar to it before.

“Fuck. Y/N, wake up!”

Your body lurched, and you bolted upright, and seconds later, sprang off the bed. You darted across the room to the window and nearly ran right into it. He was on his feet in seconds to wrap his arms around your bare midsection pulling you back and away before you injured yourself.

You screamed again.

“No, no, no! Don’t touch me. Please don’t hurt me. Please, please, please!”

He held you still, though you tried to fight your way free. Something in him said, don’t let go.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

His grip around your midsection tightened, and the two of you sank to the floor. The shake of your body was intense. You shivered like a naked woman in the forest at the height of a winter storm. You rambled and repeated the same thing. “Please don’t hurt me.” The only thing he thought to do was something his mother did for him when he was a little boy when he was inconsolable. He sang to you. he sang the only thing he could think you’d like—A Whole New World from Aladdin, one of your favorites.

With his back pressed to the cool window, he held you to his chest. When you shook uncontrollably, he squeezed tighter. When your shaking decreased, he still held you tight. The fire of your tears that streamed on him continued for what felt like hours. He didn’t bother talking. He just held you and allowed you to continue to ramble the same phrase. When you stopped, he took it as a good sign, but a few minutes later, you began again. Still, he sang, refusing to stop. By the time your body stopped shaking, and your whimpers stopped, he was hoarse, but he didn’t care.

As quickly as this episode began, you pulled away from him. Instead of protesting, he let you do as you wished. Without even looking back to him, you walked out of the bedroom, grabbing your robe off the floor in the process. He sat there, stunned, speechless, and completely confused as to what the hell just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

-Seven Years Ago-

“I’m never going to let you go. Ever. I love you too much.”

Theo’s voice was thick with emotion, but it was also filled with something else—possession or closer to obsession. Theo’s hand at the nape of your neck tangled in your hair was forceful and spoke of possession. You’d never been afraid of him before, but something said you should be. Over the last few weeks, his actions had gotten more and more erratic. He was late coming home, kept his phone close to him at all times. He even locked himself in the bathrooms when he used it or showered and was more controlling than usual. Every time you confronted him about things, he simply said he had a lot going on at work and was under a lot of stress. You tried to be the perfect girlfriend, you kept the apartment clean, cooked his dinner, held it down at home, and set the sheets on fire, all the while working full time and keeping your life in order.

Theo brought his hand around to your throat, held it gently, and pulled you to him to claim your lips. The way he kissed you was almost like the way he’d kissed you at the beginning of your relationship—almost. A few hours later, you were in bed with him, plowing away, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your nails sink into his skin. The next morning, he was gone before you woke, leaving a simple note in his wake.

The routine continued like this for weeks. Every time you brought up his weird behavior, he’d tell you how much he loved you, hold you possessively, and put it on you in a way that had you completely mentally fucked for the rest of the day. Then the next day, he’d bring home a gift—a sparkling gift. You knew how MO but dumb and in love and all that.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Theo’s kiss on your stomach paused then he looked at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow is the day. That means ten or so more hours to run for the hills,” you teased.

“Is that what you want?”

You stretched and tucked the pillow under your head more. Theo rolled on top of you, wrapped his hands around your wrist, and pressed them to the bed.

“I’ve already told you. You’re mine. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“I didn’t say I was going; I said you could run for the hills,” you corrected.

“Never.” His eyes bore into you in a way that made goosebumps flare up all over your skin. You bit your bottom lip.

“You don’t have to worry, baby. I love you. You’re perfect. We’re perfect together. I want this.”

Theo stared into your eyes then kissed you passionately. Before things got heavy, Theo pulled away. “This time tomorrow, we’re one day closer to becoming a family.”

You smiled at the warmth you felt.

The next day you were both seated in your doctor’s office talking about your options for starting a family. Theo was very open about the fact that he was practically shooting blanks. To some, that would have been a deal-breaker or even a reason to skip protection, but for you—it was neither. You were religious with protection and never really thought you wanted kids. When he brought up wanting them with you, you were stunned, but you couldn’t help but feel flattered and even more enamored with him.

You listened to the doctor talk about the invitro process, what to expect, and the steps. As he spoke, Theo looked as if he was paying the utmost attention to everything the doctor said. An hour later, you’d made a plan and scheduled the appointment that would change your entire life. Four weeks.

-Week One-

Your entire world flipped on a Tuesday night. You’d gone away for business for the weekend on a long trip. You were away for six days making plans for your future together. You planned to come back two days early to surprise Theo. When you arrived at your apartment, the glow of light in the windows was strange to you. Theo should have been asleep; it was after midnight. You pushed it to the side but decided it was the perfect opportunity to surprise and seduce him.

Quietly you walked inside and heard slow, sultry music. You placed your bag on the floor and quietly walked through the apartment. The music played through the entire apartment thanks to the surround sound system. Even if you took heavy steps, you wouldn’t be heard. Once you looked through the living room, dining, kitchen, and office and saw no Theo, you knew he was upstairs. As you passed the dining room again, you saw a finished bottle of wine but no glass.

Moving up the stairs, you began taking off your jacket, preparing to take everything else off. As you approached your bedroom door, you began on the buttons to your blouse. When you swung open the door, you expected to see Theo in your bed, either asleep or watching some stupid game on tv. Instead, what you saw had your stomach falling to the floor.

Theo’s bare ass was facing you with one leg braced on your bed and the other planted on the wooden floor. Everything was silent in your head for a few moments before the sounds of the room filled your ears. a woman’s obnoxious moans filled the room and blended with Theo’s pants and grunts. He was thrusting into her from behind with reckless abandon. You didn’t know how long you stood there watching your fiancé fuck another woman right before your eyes.

Inside your head, a whole spiel played. You dashed across the room, grabbed your heavy-duty, old-time scissors, and approached at the same time Theo turned. From there, you did the only natural thing, snipped off his dick. Blood spurted everywhere as he screamed bloody murder. Once the woman realized what had happened, she began screaming too. Your response to that was only natural too. You swung out and slashed her face. The two of them dropped to the ground writing in agony as you watched.

When you shook your head and came back to reality, neither of them knew you were standing there. You were sure you hadn’t made a sound, but she was the one to turn and notice you. Her shriek and panic brought Theo’s eyes to you. The terror that flashed across his face was classic. That was when you moved. Quickly you ran down the stairs, grabbed your jacket and your bag, and ran out of the apartment. You could hear Theo’s shouts behind you in the house, but you didn’t stop. Once inside your car, you sat there in complete shock. Before you could put the keys into the ignition, there was Theo dick swinging pounding on the window.

“Open the door, baby. Let me explain. Please. It’s not what it looks like.”

You drove off three seconds later. You fully expected to move on from there and never look back, but love was a funny thing. It often made fools of the smartest of women. You were no exception. Two weeks later, after countless attempts of apologizing, pleading, bargaining, and begging, you took him back. He was on his best behavior for a week. He sat through your arguing, the death glares you gave him, and your questioning. You could tell he hated every second of it, but you didn’t care.

Then your life flipped again. He was late coming home from work, and you were ready to claw his eyes out. You’d tried to keep your mind off of the possibility of what he was doing. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt that he was working late and lost track of time. You tried and, for the most part, was successful. That was until he came home. He was clearly drunk. You could smell the Gin coming off of him. He smelled like he’d bathed in it rather than water. He reeked. Maybe you wouldn’t have exploded if he’d come in with an apology, but he came in singing some stupid bar song that set you off.

Still, you gritted your teeth and continued working in your office. When he came into your office and had the nerve to come around to kiss you, you smelled the perfume that mingled with the alcohol. You saw red. You’d had enough and didn’t bite your tongue letting him know how pissed you were. It was like oil and fire. Once you spat your venom, he was triggered and went off on you. he criticized you for how you’d been behaving the last few weeks, compared you to a prison warden, and even insinuated that you were insecure. That made you even angrier, and when he had the audacity to say you should focus your attention on fucking him better than she did to make him stay, you blew up. Your hand swung out and connected hard with his cheek. You’d never slapped someone so hard.

The house was silent. Theo’s face was turned from you in the position your hand left him in. you didn’t predict what came next. Theo swung around and connected his own closed fist hit to your face. The force of the blow sent you falling to the floor knocking over a lap in the process. Everything was hazy, but you made out Theo climbing on top of you to slap you twice before he wrapped his hands around your throat. Everything went black then.

When you woke up, you didn’t know what where you were or what had happened. The only thing you knew was that your head was pounding as if you were in the middle of a beat down circle, and everyone was pounding hammers on your skull rather than rattling you with punches and kicks. It took you several long minutes to open your eyes and even more time for your vision to steady. Once it did, you saw a huge bouquet on the pillow beside you. The pain was indescribable, but you managed to sit up against the headboard.

All around you, there were flowers of every color and classification--reds, yellows, pinks, oranges, purples, and even whites. Every few seconds, your vision blurred then returned to normal. For the life of you, you couldn’t remember anything from the last few days. It was blank. Theo walked into the room, carrying two more bouquets and a sheepish look on his face. He began to ask for something, but you interrupted him, asking what happened. From there, his disposition changed. He said you were robbed, said he came home, and you were passed out on the floor beaten with everything disheveled. You couldn’t remember, so you went with it. He even took you down to the police station to file a report.

The next two weeks passed in a haze. Your brain just didn’t want to function properly. The more you tried to remember what happened, the more the memories eluded you. It frustrated you beyond belief, but Theo never let you dwell on it too much. While he was the perfect boyfriend, you saw cracks in his demeanor. He was more controlling than usual and was even more glued to his phone. Sometimes the things he said always gave you a feeling that there was a hidden meaning. The night you found him staring at you in the dark was the night you felt the first official stirs of fear.

-December 2013-

It was ten o’clock when your memories came back. The lamp in the living room dropped and shattered, creating the loudest sound you’d ever heard—or so you thought. In seconds you were transported back to that night. You stood there in terror, watching it all play out like it was the first time. The more you remembered, the more your body shook. The more you saw, the more fear filled you. Once you remembered him hitting you and climbing on top of you, everything stopped.

A boiling rage that you’d never felt before filled you and battled with the immense fear you felt. He’d hit you, and it wasn’t a tiny slap or an accident. He’d punched you, then climbed on top of you to continue to hit you. When it all came back to you, you stood there with his eyes on you. It was like he knew you remembered.

“Y/N--,” he slowly began as he took cautions steps to you.

You stepped back.

“Okay, hold on. Baby.”

You took a few more steps back, not daring to take your eyes off of him.

“Don’t, baby—okay. It was an accident.”

“Accident?”

“Yes, an accident.”

Your back bumped into the wall. “Accident? Theo, you punched me!”

“I didn’t mean to. You just kept shouting and accusing me, and I got angry and snapped. I didn’t mean to.”

The more he spoke, the more scared you became. The more fear you felt, the angrier you became. They were now warring powerfully within you.

“You didn’t mean to?!”

Your shout boomed off the walls. You saw his intention, and before he actually moved, you sprang into action, running to the kitchen for a weapon. Once you touched a knife, Theo was there turning you, yanking it from your hand to clatter on the floor. He held your throat and squeezed.

“Jesus, Y/N. Why do you have to be like that? Now I’m angry.” His second hand joined the first, and his grip tightened.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean for it to happen. You can’t hold it against me. You can’t hate me for it. I don’t know what I’ll do if you hate me, dewdrop. You got me so angry. You shouldn’t make me angry like that. I can’t—I can’t control--.”

He sounded erratic and crazy, and the way he looked at you told you just how far gone he was.

“Don’t leave me. No, you won’t leave me. You will stay. Won’t you, Y/N? You will stay with me. Stay and have our baby. You’re mine, all mine. Do you hear me?”

His voice became more forceful. His grip became more forceful and dangerous. Feeling your windpipes closing, you gasped for air, trying to not blackout.

“Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me you won’t go. Tell me!”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Tell me!”

Theo released your throat, but only a little. You took a slow deep raspy breath, one that hurt.

“Tell me, or I swear I’ll kill myself and I’ll take you with me so we’ll be together forever. Tell me, or I swear I’ll use this knife.”

“I’m yours,” you forced out.

“What?”

“I’m—yours.”

“And you won’t leave.”

Theo stared in your eyes, and from the look in there, you knew he was serious. He would kill you and then himself.

“I won’t—leave.”

Theo released your throat and clung to you, holding you tightly. You didn’t dare move.

You had to go on as if it was business as usual. The rest of the night, you watched him. As you served your dinner and sat across from him, he looked normal. He looked like he hadn’t beaten the shit out of you a few weeks ago or that he hadn’t threatened to kill you and himself if you didn’t stay. You didn’t know who he was. You doubted you ever did. Theo went on telling trivial stories of work or things with his friends and even reminiscing on memories of the two of you. The entire time you couldn’t eat, you just sat there until he forced you to but not with words—only looks.

You didn’t sleep that night, or the next, or the next. You doubted he did either. He forced you to sleep beside him as if nothing had happened. Forced you to carry on with your life as you’d planned. He expected you to go through with the embryo implantation. He expected you to fall in line. Terror made you comply. Intelligence made you pretend to comply. You played the role he wanted—the happy fiancée, the soon to be mother. You played the hell out of the role. The night before the procedure, Theo made a mistake. He brought you gifts, roses, chocolates, wine, all your favorites. You knew his endgame. He wanted sex. This was his MO. He always thought this was the way. There was no way in hell you would do that, so you did the only smart thing—drugged him.

You watched as he drank his rum. Watched as he had one, two, and three all back to back. Unbeknownst to him, you’d roofied them all. Only you didn’t plan on using this to have your way with him. When the time came, he resisted the effects of the drug. You could see the drowsiness in his eyes and guessed his body was feeling heavy thanks to the lethargic way he moved, but still, he persisted in pursuing you. When he backed you onto the bed and proceeded to kiss along your neck, collar, and chest, you cringed in a way that usually would have shown him you were not feeling it. In his current state, you doubted he cared.

For what felt like an eternity boiled down to a few terrifying minutes where Theo continued trying to strip you and lay his affections on you. When you felt the full weight of his body drop to yours, you paused and waited to see if he would pick back up. Five seconds passed, no movement, then ten, and twenty. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you shoved his body off of yours and sprang from the bed to bang back into the wardrobe. You looked down at him, fearing the loud clatter would have stirred him. It hadn’t.

Thinking you were home free, you rushed out of the door and frantically tried to get down the stairs. As you took the first few steps, you felt a hand grab your hair and pull you back. There was Theo—an angry but sluggish Theo.

“Where’re you going, dewdrop?”

At this moment, your voice not to work. Instead, you tried to yank yourself from him. The pain at your scalp was intense. He refused to let go.

“Where—are you—going?”

He wobbled and lost his balance for a moment. That reprieve had his hand loosen in your hair. You turned and dashed down the stairs. Every one you took, you heard his sloppy thuds behind you. When you were halfway down, he felt him shove you down the remaining. You slid, tumbled, banged, and screamed all the way to the bottom of the stairs. The pain in your body said stay down, but you could guess what was in store for you.

Gathering what was left of your strength. You picked yourself up, limped to the hooks beside the door, grabbed your bag, and your keys, and bolted out the door.

“Y/N!”

He sounded furious. As he screamed, you felt the fire of his words as if it were the flames of hell at your back. Once outside, you ignored the pain in your ankle, your leg, back, ribs, and head and pushed forward. As soon as you got to your car, you opened it and jumped inside to press the lock button in the knick of time. Theo banged and pounded on the glass.

“Open the door, baby.” He sounded drunk.

“Come on, let’s go inside and talk about this.”

You didn’t. When he realized you wouldn’t, he banged the glass harder, shattering it. As he reached inside, you pressed your foot on the gas. The sudden movement of the car jolted him enough to send his body more onto the vehicle. That change of his body had the side of your car bumping into him as you sped down the street like a thief in the darkness of night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Present Day-

Taking a deep breath as if you hadn’t had one in centuries, you gasped and panted, pulling yourself from the memories. From behind the trees, you could see the faintest streaks of pink, yellow, and purple. The sun would be rising soon. You stared at the sky for a few moments and allowed the peacefulness in it to work on the tension inside of you. As you stared at the sky, you remembered what just happened, and you cringed. Looking to your left, you laid your eyes on a very still Chris who was staring right back at you.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You flinched and immediately pressed your hands to your face hoping to hide your tear-streaked, puffy-eyed state. “What the fuck, Chris!”

You wiped your cheeks and sniffled, but you didn’t look at him right away.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was here. I didn’t want to leave you alone. It didn’t feel right. I was worried. I’m sorry,” Chris rushed out.

You weren’t angry. You were embarrassed. No one knew about this or had ever seen you like this. No-one except your family and Scott, but he only knew the gist of things. He’d seen you at the height of your worst. You had no idea how you could face him.

“Y/N,” Chris softly began. A few seconds after he spoke, you felt his hand touch your knee. You flinched.

“Don’t touch me!” The second you said the words, you automatically felt like an asshole.

“All right, I’ll stay over here. I’m sorry.”

You groaned. Did he have to be so sweet right now? A few minutes passed in silence with your head turned to the right. You felt shame, fear, sadness, regret, and a deep yearning for the woman you used to be. You fought back the tears that wanted freedom and tried to get past this vulnerability you hadn’t felt in years. Taking another deep breath, you bit down onto your bottom lip. You didn’t want to breakdown any further. He was probably thinking you were a nutcase and wondering why he even wanted to get you into bed, you thought.

Almost an hour passed before you slowly turned to look at him. He was staring out into the trees, sitting there as patiently as ever. He didn’t look to be in a hurry, but he looked like his thoughts were far away. You could guess what he was thinking.

“Aren’t you going to ask?”

With his head still facing forward, he answered. “Nope.”

The answer stumped you for a few seconds.

“Why?”

“Because, if it’s something you want me to know Y/N, you’ll tell me. If it’s not, you won’t. I’m not here to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not here to force you to do things, test you, lie to you, or hurt you. I don’t want to do any of those things. I’ve told you that,” Chris said with his eyes still forward. As he said the last sentence, he looked at you.

You were able to hold his gaze for a few seconds before you scrunched your face and pressed your forehead to your knees that were bent underneath you. After another few minutes, you took another deep breath. For the last few weeks, he’d been trying to prove that. Since you became intimate, you’d gotten the vibe that he really wasn’t the asshole you’d pegged him as. He was a good guy on the surface and possibly an even better one underneath all the bullshit he projected as his true self. Ms. Lisa was right, you thought. Realizing it had your heart skipping a beat.

“You have to come out and see the changed world if you want to move forward. You’ve been at a standstill pretending nothing had happed, and you hadn’t gone through trauma. You know the first step, babygirl.”

Then, your father’s words were harsh though you knew he spoke them with love. When he’d spoken them, you weren’t ready to hear them, let alone face what they truly meant. Were you now?

“The only way to know if you’re ready is to take the leap. See how it feels.”

Your dropped your head back and stared at the sky while taking a few calming breaths.

“My last relationship was—less than ideal,” you began while keeping your eyes glued above. You searched for the right words to follow up with, and minutes passed before you found them. It almost seemed like too much to tell him everything. It felt like if you did, then you’d be bare before him. Your walls would be gone, and he would have unadulterated access to your very core. He could then do what he chose. You’d made that mistake before.

“His name was Theo. I moved to Connecticut for him.” You scoffed at that little fact. You couldn’t believe you’d done it and had since regretted it tenfold.

“We um—we moved quickly looking back. At the time, it seemed normal. We got a house together, lived together, did everything together. Um—he um--.”

You struggled to find the right words. You didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t spin you like a stupid victim. Groaning, you decided to give up.

“Long story short, he turned out to be a liar.” You sighed out and rubbed your forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

You scoffed and looked away.

“I mean it. I know a lot of people throw those words around all the time, but I mean them. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

Deserve, you thought as you looked back to him.

“You deserved so much better,” Chris filled in.

You almost laughed hearing him say what you deserved. You then remembered his words in his room. It was then you made the decision to talk about it.

“We were planning on having a family. Our wedding was coming up, and we began the process of in vitro,” you began.

You could feel his shock, and you knew you had his undivided attention.

“He’d been acting weird for a while, and I noticed, but I didn’t bring it up. I just pushed it to the side and ignored it. I didn’t think he would ever do anything behind my back because of everything we had going on. So, I was the perfect girlfriend, cooked, cleaned—everything. One night he came home really late after weeks and weeks of me suspecting something was going on. I was pissed, and I confronted him. we screamed and argued, and he--.” You looked back to the sky, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. “He hit me,” you finished.

“Son of a bitch,” Chris grumbled.

“I was dazed. I couldn’t even get up. He—he climbed on top of me and kept hitting me. I blacked out and woke up, but I didn’t remember what happened. He told me we were robbed, and I was attacked by robbers. He even went as far as to bring me to the police station to file a report.”

You paused, trying to get over the fresh wave of emotion that washed over you.

“For weeks, I couldn’t remember, and he went on like life was normal, and he was innocent. Day after day, night after night. When I remembered I freaked out and ran to the kitchen for a knife, he was behind me and grabbed my throat, swore he’d kill me, then kill himself, he—he made me promise I wouldn’t leave him, made me believe he would kill me.”

The heat beside you intensified. You would have chanced a glance at him, but you were too chicken shit to do it.

“For the next few weeks, he was controlling and terrifying. I barely slept. If he slept with me, he locked the door from the inside and kept a key on him. He kept tabs on me at all times. I felt like—a prisoner. One night I managed to drug his drinks, and he passed out. I made a run for it, but he woke up, chased me, and pushed me down the stairs when he couldn’t stop me. I barely got away that night, and I haven’t looked back since.”

The silence was heavy. It felt like the pressure in the air was just compressing right on top of your head.

Chris didn’t speak right away. He didn’t speak for countless long minutes. When you chanced a look at him, his jaw was tightly clenched, and his eyes looked dark, almost black. That was alarming for you considering how blue they usually were.

“I’m--,” Chris began before you cut him off.

“—Please don’t say you’re sorry. It’ll drive me bat shit, and I don’t know if I can handle going even crazier than I am right now, and I doubt you’d be able to look at me the same ever again. Although, I already suspect we’re there,” you ranted.

Silence returned.

“I was going to say I’m furious at what you’ve had to go through.”

Your head snapped to him.

“I never knew—never even fathomed, and now that I do—a lot makes sense,” Chris began. He audibly sighed, and as he did, his shoulders sank.

“I don’t need your pity, Chris.” You made a move to get up and walk away, but he was there to stop you before you got to the doors leading inside.

“I don’t see anything to pity. Jesus, Y/N. I’ve always thought you were the strongest woman. When I see you, I am always in awe of you. You’re so damn smart, so funny, and unapologetically real. I’m amazed. I don’t pity you, not one bit.”

As he spoke, his hands said a lot more. He lifted them and waved them around for emphasis but what you really paid attention to was how many times he reached out for you. Every time he did reach out, he stopped himself by balling his fists to then lowers his hands then do it all again. You took notice of how much you actually wanted him to touch you. You were a mess.

Groaning, you turned your back to him, looked back to the trees, and wove your fingers on top of your head. On one side, you wanted to leave, go back to the guesthouse, and bury yourself under the blankets for a day or two, all the while ignoring everything that happened. There was even a side of that side that wanted to pack up and go back to Boston and forget the lines you’d crossed during this quarantine. The other side wanted you to just give in to someone comforting you, someone being there for you who seemed to not want anything from you besides intimacy and a chance.

“I understand,” Chris began. You spun around to face him again.

“You understand what?”

“You being afraid to let me in.”

“I’m not afraid,” you quickly countered.

“Yeah, you are. You’re terrified, it shows. I’m terrified, and though I’ve been good at hiding it the last three years, I know it shows now. I understand, Y/N.”

You sighed and sat on the bench and dropped your forehead into your hands. The silence between you stretched again. You didn’t pay attention to it, though. You were miles away in your own head.

“Y/N,” Chris softly began.

When you looked up, he sank to the wooden deck in front of you. His bare legs showed the strength in his limbs. While he was slim, he wasn’t puny. He was surprisingly strong.

“I don’t want to play any games here, or pretend like I feel less than I do or want less than I do.”

“What do you want?”

Chris swallowed so hard you saw his Adam’s Apple bob. He didn’t speak all at once; he just stared into your eyes.

“I want you.”

They were pretty words; you thought as you looked away.

“You’ve had me.”

Chris closed the space between you. He grasped your hand with one of his and used his other hand to cup your jaw, so you were looking into his eyes.

“This isn’t about sex. I want you.” The way he emphasized the word, dropping his tone lower, making his voice deeper had your belly doing somersaults. You lowered your eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“You only think that because of this quarantine and sex bubble,” you whispered, your voice overcome with unexpected emotion.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. This has nothing to do with quarantine or this supposed sex bubble, whatever the hell that is.”

It was your turn to give him a “yeah right” look. Chris rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“I will admit that if it hadn’t been for quarantine, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the courage to tell you any of this or be this way with you. I would have still kept my distance because of--,” he took a breath, stroked your fingers, then continued.

“I wanted you three years ago, two years ago, Christmas, New Year, last week, last night, tonight. I want you, Y/N.”

You studied him for a few moments longer. The heat and intensity you found there had you entwining your fingers with his.

“I guess the question is—do you want me?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Chris spoke again.

“Really want me Y/N, not sex, not attention, not a distraction, or a pass time. Me.”

The vulnerability you saw in him made you want to pull him closer, all the while pushing him further away. You didn’t know what you were searching for in his eyes, but you searched them all the same. It was the moment of truth. It was time for your first real romantic decision since leaving Connecticut and Theo. With everyone else, you didn’t have to do this; you didn’t think to or want to. You wanted to now. Not only did your body want him, but you wanted him, and it wasn’t your body doing the talking right now.

You scooted off the bench and into the welcoming space on his lap. By doing this, it made him drop to the deck as you straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“How did you get past the ice and shards?”

Chris’s smile started small but then spread into a full one. “I’ve always seen through the ice.”

You couldn’t help but snort out. He was so goddamn cocky, and you loved it. You both slowly moved to each other, never breaking eye contact. When you were but centimeters apart, Chris stopped. You knew he was giving you control to decide what you do, and where you go from there. When your lips pressed to his, neither of you moved at first. After a few seconds, it was you that teased his lips to kiss him sensually. When you felt his tongue swirl around yours, you moaned. From there, it was a chain reaction, one that was inevitable when the two of you got close like this.

Before either of you could get too carried away, you pulled away and rested your forehead on his. Both of you panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Slow and steady,” Chris whispered.

Your eyes met his. You nodded your agreement.

“Slow and steady.”

He smiled and kissed your lips once, twice, and a third time before he stood with you in his arms. It always amazed you that he was this strong. You were by no means stick and bones. You had shape, curves, and an ass. Nevertheless, he always handled you as if you weighed as much as a down pillow. Chris walked inside the cabin, passing the box you’d brought with you.

“Wait.”

You grabbed it and held it out to him. “What is this?”

Chris grinned. “You haven't opened it yet?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should,” you admitted. You’d debated it for days, and it was driving you insane.

“It’s yours. You absolutely should have opened it.”

“What is it?”

Chris walked into the bedroom and laid you on top of the mattress before he dropped onto the bed beside you. You sat up, slid to the headboard, and fiddled with the box.

“It’s not going to open itself.”

You took a deep breath and untied the pretty yellow bow-tied ribbon that was artistically tied around the box. You glanced at him again before you flipped the top off of the box. When you did, there was a simple notecard in your favorite color—yellow.

“You are beauty; you are grace.” As you read the words, your fingertips traced over the embossed letters. You bit your bottom lip and chanced looking at him. Chris attentively sat there patiently waiting for you to lift the notecard.

When you did, laying on top of its cotton bed was a necklace that housed some impressive diamonds all across the chain. When your eyes got to the charm, your jaw dropped. A pair of golden wings rested on the cotton. The intricate design of the wings had you lifting the box closer to your eyes to get a better look. You were not disappointed. It was breathtaking and clearly expensive. While the chain housed smaller diamonds, the wings had much larger ones.

“Wow.”

You traced your fingertips across it then flipped it over. There you saw engravement. “She flies by her own wings.”

You looked back at him but didn’t speak.

“Do you remember that time Scott and everybody took you out to celebrate that major project you landed? You thought it was just going to be a one-time thing, but it led you to being the reoccurring talent for that Broadway production company. I remember opening night we all went and bam your poster, header, and designs were everywhere in Time’s Square. Do you remember that?”

His smile was so wide you couldn’t help but smile and nod.

“We were all so excited and so damn proud. I was so proud of you. I remember just thinking nothing, and no one would stand in your way from getting where you wanted to. I thought you were—incredible.” He shook his head as if snapping himself out of the memory.

“I had this in my pocket the entire night. We were at the show, then dinner and walking around the city. I held on to it, trying to find the right time to give it to you, but—the right time never presented itself. So—I’ve held onto it this whole time.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Wow, that sounds pretty pathetic now,” he said, chuckling to himself.

“No, stop. It doesn’t sound pathetic. It sounds sweet. You’re sweet. This is so beautiful.”

“Do you like it?”

Nodding your head, you stared at the present some more.

“I really, really like it. Thank you.”

“There’s more.”

“Oh, is there?”

Chris nodded and nudged his head to the box. Sensing his meaning, you lifted the bed of cotton to see a beautiful diamond and gold charm bracelet.

“So promise rings are a thing, but I also know a ring of any sort might have you run for the hills even if it was just a promise ring,” Chris began. You laughed and shook your head.

“You’re not funny, Christopher!”

“I am, and you know it. Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted—I thought a bracelet would be an acceptable replacement.”

“So, it’s a promise bracelet?”

He nodded and slid closer to you. “It’s simple. You have a cabin charm for here, the beach charm for the beach, but after our last night on the beach, it’s for that.”

You softly smiled and bit your bottom lip. “And you have the fingers crossed charm for these promises. I will not hurt you; I will not disrespect you. I promise I can be the man you deserve.”

“Chris, this wasn’t necessary.”

“It was. Words are cheap, actions speak. I want this to speak. I want you to look at it and know. I’m in.”

His words echoed in your head as you let them marinate. He was in. you stretched your wrist out to him and held out the bracelet. Chris smiled, took the jewelry, and fastened it around your wrist.

“It looks good on you.”

“Eh—diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”

You smiled and leaned to him to press your lips to him. “Thank you; I love them.”

“Let me put the necklace on.”

You turned to him and let him clasp it. When he finished, you turned to him and felt the baby’s fist-sized pendant. “How does it look?”

Chris looked far away while he stared at the necklace.

“Chris.”

“Like it’s home.”

The man was going to be the death of you. Death by butterflies in the stomach. It was a thing; you were sure of it. You were turning into a puddle of lukewarm water, and it was an unfamiliar feeling.

“Let’s watch the sunset,” you suggested.

Chris slinked up the bed to you, then laid down under the covers at the same time your head found its place on his chest. Chris wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and the two of you, in perfect silence and relaxed comfort, watched one of the most beautiful sunrises that you could remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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