Escaping Parker, page 12
I’ve always been a little self-conscious when it comes to being comfortable with my own body, but Rig makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful, unscarred person. He isn’t taking advantage of my weaknesses, only embracing it, flaws and all. This gives me the push I need to reach back and unclasp my bra. I discard it to the side and he looks me over.
“You are so beautiful, so perfect,” he says in a hushed voice.
He wastes no time, kissing my stomach until he reaches the most sensitive part on me, thrusting a finger in me, and making my back arch with pleasure. The need to release climbs higher. Once he is sure I’m good and ready, he crawls back up to me, and pulls his boxers down. I fumble to get my own underwear off, my fingers tangling in the lacy fabric. Rig adjusts himself till he is placed right at my entrance.
“I have nothing to offer you: I’m not rich and I can’t even promise you tomorrow, so if this too much, I understand,” he says, giving me an out.
“Stop stalling. I know what I’m doing.”
That’s all it takes, and he gently pushes himself into me, gradually at first, slowly moving in and out. He speeds up the pace, his breathing getting fast. With every deep thrust he gives a little grunt.
As I get closer to my own release, I try and savor the moment, not knowing if this will ever happen again between us. Just when I think this is the most amazing feeling I have ever had, he moves his hand down, making tiny circles around my clit. A rush of intensity surges through me, and my toes start to tingle. He keeps doing it, drawing out every movement till I can’t hold on any longer. I let go, riding the waves of euphoria as I’m freefalling. He moves rapidly, tensing up, and empties himself inside me. When I finally float down back to reality, I find myself trying to catch my breath. He lies next to me, doing the same.
My body relaxes while I admire how clear the sky is, and how many stars I can see without the city lights shining. Rig’s scars are illuminated by the light of the moon. I rest my head on his shoulder, pulling the edge of the blanket over me, and trace the scars with my finger.
This experience starts to heal my heart, and at the same time, Rig just stole it. There is definitely a difference between just sex and making love, and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.
I’ve been pushing Rig away ever since that night, scared I let my heart feel things it’s not supposed to. The deeper my heart falls, the more I realize how much I’m in over my head.
Never once did I ever feel this way about Steven. It’s so completely different and foreign. My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest when Rig’s near me, and the only thing that matters is that we are together. I feel invincible. Which normally would be a good thing, but now it only makes the confusion between my heart and head worse.
I’m still married, not happily, or by choice, and a part of me thinks how wrong this is, and how inappropriate I’m acting. So I push back more. Confliction rules my life, and I only want to face easy challenges. I want to live in some fairy tale where nothing but rainbows and sunshine exists. Sadly, that’s not my reality. My reality is to be oblivious to my feelings, stay running for my life, not have an opinion about anything, and deal with the life shattering blows as if they’re nothing. And move on.
So to protect myself. I stay away, sending mixed signals, making Rig feel as if he did something wrong. Rig would ever hurt me, physically or mentally. I’m the one who makes up perfect scenarios in my head, and when the outcome doesn’t suit what I want, I will be let down. How do I continue to let my feelings get stronger knowing he is leaving? The only thing I can do is figure out if I want to live in the moment, or make decisions based on my future. Neither option appeals to me.
So I hide out under my willow tree, shielded by the tall grass in the meadow, hoping to keep my distance long enough so I can figure out my own insecurities. It gets hotter each day, and the lake screams for me to jump in and cool off. The problem with that is once my toes touch the water, I’m brought back to the night my heart and soul fell in love with Rig.
Just one touch from him made my life that much more difficult. How wrong it is to fall in love with someone who has already told me he won’t give me any more than the limited time we have together. I don’t know how I’m going to give up my protector, the one person risking his life to save mine. He’s the one person who now unknowingly owns my heart, because he made it beat again when I thought it wasn’t possible.
Leaning my head back against the tree, I close my eyes, begging for a sign or an answer to my problems. Months of frustration I’ve bottled up and pushed aside, leaves me fragile and weak. My eyes sting with fresh tears. Knowing I’m alone out here makes it ok for me to be vulnerable, and I do nothing to wipe the tears away. Like a cleansing rain, I let them go, hoping they’ll wash away the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach.
With every step forward, I take two back, never getting to the finish line. I want this to be over once and for all.
Crunching of leaves lets me know someone is behind me, most likely Rig. I frantically wipe them away like they weren’t there.
“What are you doing out here?” Rig asks.
“Just hanging out, nothing much.” I clear my throat, not sounding very convincing.
He walks around the tree and stands before me, refusing to leave me to wallow. Rig crouches down to eye level and searches my face.
“Why are you crying?” he asks flat-out.
“I’m not, I’m fine,” I lie.
“Your eyes are red, and your cheeks are tear-stained. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Not really.”
“Well, if that’s how you want it to be, I’ll just sit here and wait it out with you. I’ll tell you the reason I came looking for you later.” He sits down next to me, making good on his plan.
“Why don’t you tell me what you needed to so you can head back in and not be out in this heat?”
“What has changed? Because I’m starting to get very confused. I thought things between us were good, but you’re pushing me away. What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything. If anything, you have been nothing but nice and helpful.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Nice, I’ve been nice? Where the hell is this coming from? I thought this is what you wanted. If that has changed, please tell me now. I won’t invest any more time into this thing between us,” he clearly states.
“This thing, is that how you describe it? You know, I’m tired, emotionally drained, and I just want to go home, wherever that is.”
“Look, nobody understands more than I do. It’s fine that you are having all these feelings going on, I get it. But if I did something wrong, and that’s why you’re pushing me away, tell me. I can handle it.”
“I told you, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll get over, I just needed a bit of time to myself.” I push for him to listen to me.
“You know I’m here for you, and you can tell me anything. I thought you knew that. Please tell me why you are pushing me away; I want to fix it.” He reaches his hand out to grab mine and his touch makes me so weak.
“There’s nothing you can fix. I’m ok. I promise. Tell me why you came to find me.” I change the subject, because if he knows what kind of stuff goes through my head, it’ll scare him away.
“Ok, if you say so. Well, I got our next plan. We need to leave by tomorrow.” He sounds a little too excited. “Aren’t you going to ask me where we’re going?”
I shrug. “No, I haven’t asked you that for a while. There’s no point in knowing.”
“Well, this time it’s different, this time you are going to want to know.” He teases me, so I play along.
“Where are we going? I’m dying to know.”
“Well, since you’re begging to know . . . it’s the final place in our trip. Your new place!”
The second the words leave his mouth, emotions start crashing into me. My brain tries to grasp this new reality. Just the thought of settling and not keep running has me crying again, completely overwhelmed. This time, though, it’s a mix of happiness and sorrow. If I keep pushing Rig away, I will never get this time back. I might never convince him to stay, even though I already know he never will.
“Why are you crying? This should be something to celebrate: you are going to finally be able to settle and start over again.”
“I’m happy. I just didn’t know this was going to happen so soon. I wasn’t expecting you to tell me this,” I say, still crying as I talk.
“Don’t cry, this is good. You’re going to make it just fine. It’s the fresh start you were desperately trying to get. I’m going to stay with you for a while till I’m certain you are all set up, and good on your own,” he offers, trying to stop my tears.
I’ve never been scared to be on my own. I’ve always been independent and thrive on the challenges life has thrown my way. Somehow through the downfall of my life the past five years, the ability to survive and push through has faded.
I wish I still knew how to pick up the pieces, and make every negative into a positive. I just can’t figure out how to do that. I get sparks of a renewed sense of myself, but as quickly as they crash into me, they get pummeled by a tidal wave of reality as I learn to swim to the top again.
I’m not so much concerned with being financially ok and making it that way; I’m more concerned with my mental stability. How I will ever feel safe enough to let another person into my life? I’ll never have the comfort of calling my parents when I feel like I need guidance. The fact that one phone call could put them in more danger than I could ever imagine makes me uneasy.
I get up from the tree without a word, needing to walk away from the current situation. It’s plaguing me from wanting to move on. Fear is ruling my life at this moment, and I need to get away from Rig. So I walk around the pond. I wish I could stay at this farm and never leave. It has provided me with the perfect blend of relaxation and security, and I’ve never felt so at home before. But all I can see is the day Rig leaves. He’ll leave me alone, in a foreign place, to figure everything out and get back on my feet. Pretending to anyone I come into contact with that I’m this different person, this person I don’t even want to be.
Some might think I’m ungrateful and I should take this opportunity and flourish from it, which eventually I will be able to do, but it’s about learning things all over again. Things previously etched into my brain by fear. Once a person is freed from a traumatic situation, there’s a long healing process, one I haven’t even acknowledged yet, or one I might never be able to bounce back from.
This battle made me latch on to someone who repetitively tells me they are no good for me, and it makes me question my ability and confidence I have in choosing what and who is right for me. I might always choose the wrong person or situation. I go into things blindly, as well as naïvely. I see the world so black and white, not even seeing the color gray. It’s a scary thought. It’s also scary that I could have such deep feelings for someone so soon after meeting them, and know nothing about them, only that they are willing to do whatever it takes to keep me safe.
I round the lake back to where the tree is, and Rig is gone. I didn’t expect him to wait for me. I’m just so lost in my feelings about life and I don’t know who else to talk to—not that we were doing much talking.
Deciding I’ve been out in the sun for too long, I head back toward the house, get my stuff together, and clean up a little bit so it’s not a disaster when we leave. Rig sits on the couch with his phone in hand, and I skirt past so I don’t bother him. I pack up all my belonging, my fingers lingering on the outfit Rig had bought me for our special date. I pull the fabric close to me, letting the memory sink in, remembering when we were dancing together and how his touch brought me to my knees. It was so nice to feel normal for once, and mingle with others who didn’t have a clue who I was. All that mattered was the company we were to one another, how comfortable I was in that moment.
How liberating it was peeling off the skirt and shirt and running into the lake and being free. I’m flooded with the memory of him, pressed tightly against me on the blanket in the meadow under the stars. Just lying there together, me falling hard for him. My heart beat so wildly different that night. Now I’m going to have to put that all behind me.
I fold up the skirt and shirt, and leave it nicely sitting on top of the dresser, not wanting to bring it with me, and not wanting that memory around of a time I thought was so perfect and finally different.
I’m so scared of these feelings and what they have done to my judgment, but I promise to try my hardest to adjust, and enjoy the little time left with Rig. The distance will still be there, because my heart won’t survive being broken twice, especially when it’s my own fault this time.
We drove for days, stopping each night until we reached our destination. We ended up in Lockwood, Montana—somewhere I’d never even considered visiting.
It’s a small suburban town outside of Billings, with lots of land. The house isn’t as nice as what I’m used to, but not a dump. It’s a fixer upper with loads of potential. Inside there are two bedrooms and a large living room, with dingy white walls that scream for some paint and a little love to turn it into a home.
We’ve been here since the first of October, cleaning it up and getting settled. Properties are large here, with ample space between each house. Privacy galore and seems very cozy.
I’ve been anxious to get some stuff around the house, decorate a bit. Luckily for me, old paint sits on a shelf in the garage. Nothing I would have chosen, but since I don’t have any resources at the time, I go with it.
Rig has been outside most of the time, fixing a broken gate and taking care of some stuff to brighten the place up.
Obviously my life here won’t be paid for, and I’m going to have to get serious about finding a job and start transitioning into a new life. I have been putting some thought into what I could do. Since I am now Parker, and don’t have a college diploma to show for the schooling I did, it’s going to be something way out of leftfield. I could try and find a job in the city, but leaving the comfort of my tiny house rattles my nerves.
“I got the gate fixed and installed a motion detector with a floodlight to make sure if anything or anybody comes on your property, you’ll be the first to know,” Rig says as he comes in the door.
“Do you really think that’s necessary? I mean, it’s a pretty small town, and like you said, there hasn’t been anything going with Steven that makes you think he even cares to find me any longer,” I say, cleaning the walls getting them ready for a new coat of paint.
“Yep, I think it’s best. Plus, you are in the country now. What if you got a job where you had to work late and came home when it’s dark out? You’d want to know nothing is around while getting out of your car, right?”
I nod, because I know it makes him feel better that I’m taking the steps to keep safe once I’m on my own.
Since being here, things have really calmed down in my head as reality kicks in. I’ve had to remind myself that nothing is guaranteed, and my wishy washy attitude with Rig isn’t something of which I’m proud. I pushed for this with him, and the second he gave me what I wanted, I pushed him away. I was wrong. Since I have put all that stuff out of my head, we’ve been able to enjoy things together again.
Rig still hasn’t opened up to me, and I know he’s hiding something, like I am, so I don’t push. I hope that in time he’ll tell me what happened for him to think he is so unworthy of being cared for, or loved.
“So I was going to use some of this paint I found out in the garage to put on the walls, try to liven it up a bit in here.” I point to the cans lined in the hallway.
“Yeah, it might be old, though. Who knows how long it has been in the garage. Let me see it.” He walks over and opens it up with an old screwdriver. Shaking it up and stirring it with a small piece of wood, he examines the paint.
“I don’t think this is going to work. It’s really thick and seems pretty old. How about we go grab some new paint, choose something you like? I don’t think you’ll really like this shade of green, either.” He tilts the can to me so I can see inside.
I wrinkle my nose at the mossy color. “I don’t think it’s something really to spend money on, though. I guess I can wait till I get a job and do it the right way.”
“Stop! I want you to feel comfortable here. If new paint is going to help make this transition easy, then new paint it is. Let’s go to the hardware store,” he says, grabbing his keys off the counter.
“If you say so. Let’s go.” I slip on my shoes.
A small mom and pop hardware store sits on the edge of town. I search the paint section for swatches, imagining what might look good.
“I have to grab some things while I’m here. Figure out what color you like and have them mix it up for you.” Rig walks down the aisle.
I eventually come up with this nice teal color, something bright and inviting at the same time, with a pale yellow to go with it. I bring the swatches to a teenager behind the counter. He helps me gather the rest of the supplies.
“Hi, can I help you?” a teenage working the counter asks.
“Yes, I’d like these two colors, please.”
“Sure, how many cans do you need each?” he asks, and I have no clue. I didn’t measure, or even know how far a can would go.
“Um, I think one can of each will do, and two flat white cans also,” I say, hoping it will be enough.
“Ok, let me go get those for you. Do you have brushes or rollers?”
“No, I’ll go pick those out now. Thanks.” I go back to the paint section to grab a couple things I will need.
