Escape

Chapter Twenty-One

I walk to the back of the store and Samuel follows. I run my hand up the cold metal railing as I take each step up the staircase. We walk into the apartment and I remove my shoes. I walk over to the couch and sit with my knees pulled together. All of a sudden, I'm freezing with goosebumps all over. I pull my arms into my side in an attempt to warm myself.

Samuel disappears into his bedroom then reemerges with a large blanket. He walks up and drapes in over my shoulder. I pull it tighter around me and I see him glance at the already blood-soaked band-aid on my finger.

"Let me get you a hot tea," He smiles warmly and walks into the kitchen. After a few moments he returns and holds out the tea. I grab it and curl my fingers around the mug, heating my frozen fingers. He sits down next to me and waits, patiently. After a silence between us that feels like it lasts for days, I take a deep breath.

"I thought I saw him there. At work" I whisper, barely audible.

"Who did you think you saw, Payton?" He asks, helping me along.

I sigh, "My husband." I look up at Samuel and his eyes remain kind, without judgement, waiting for my explanation.

"He's why I'm here," I continue. "He has done things to me, awful things. Things that I've tried to forget but can't." I pause.

"The nightmares?" Samuel asks in a low tone, and I nod softly. He places his hand on my knee as I continue.

"I had to leave. And I did. But during our marriage, he had convinced me that everyone close to me was trying to sabotage our relationship, so by the time I had the strength to leave, I had no one to turn to. No friends, no family. I've left so many times, but every time I left him, he found me. Every. Single. Time." Samuel tightens his grip on my knee, coaxing me to continue.

"So, one day, I packed everything I could into my backpack and thought that the only way to escape him was to leave the country so that he couldn't follow me. New phone, new credit cards, new life. I've always wanted to visit England since I was a kid, so looked at a map, closed my eyes, and decided that I would buy a ticket to wherever my finger landed." I shrug, "So here I am." I place the mug on the table.

"But I haven't escaped him. He's still here. In every thought, in every nightmare. It seems like the farther I get from him physically, the deeper he burrows himself into my brain." A small tear runs down my cheek. Samuels lifts his hand to my face and catches the tear before it rolls off of my face.

I clear my throat, "I used to be really happy. We were really happy." I pause, "But not anymore... and not like I am with you. Being with you feels... different." I look up at Samuel. He smiles and brings his forehead to mine.

He puts his hand on my chin and tilts my lips to his. The kiss is soft, tender, and safe.

"I'm glad you told me," He says at a whisper.

We sit together in silence for a while before I clear my throat, "Can you... tell me about Allison?" I ask hoping it'll make me feel less vulnerable.

His eyes widen. He sits back and runs his hands through his hair.

"You don't have to." I can tell the topic makes him uncomfortable, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

"No, it's okay. I just don't ever really talk about her." He replies.

"Why?" I ask.

He pauses, deep in thought. "I don't really know, I guess. She really was an incredible person. I should talk about her more." He smiles, and I smile with. He continues, "We started dating in high school. My friends knew I was really into her, so they dared me to ask her out, and I did. And we were pretty much inseparable ever since," He looks down and picks at the chipped black polish on his nails.

"Sarah loved her, and my dad loved her. My dad thought she was good for me. And she was. I just wish I could have been as good for her as she was for me." His eyes go dark and he clears his throat.

"I started hanging out with a pretty bad crowd, parties and different drugs every night. At first, she fought me on it, and we'd get into huge fights every time I came home high. Then, eventually she got wrapped right up into it with me. Maybe she wanted to experience what was so important that I was willing to give up my life for it. Give up her. She just didn't want to lose me. So she joined me." He turns and looks at me, "She was such an incredible person... before me." I place my hand on his.

"But you're different now." I remind him.

He looks down at the wooden floor, "Yeah, too bad it took her death to get me here. It was my wake-up call, my rock bottom. Well, not until after months of so many drugs I couldn't even try to remember where I was or who I was with. Her family will never forgive me for how I influenced her, and I probably won't ever forgive myself. If she'd never met me, she'd still be here."

I place my forehead on his shoulder and wrap my fingers in his. There's so much I want to say. Like how it isn't his fault and how she was her own person and made her own choices. And how incredible he is now, and how despite the horrors we've both experienced, it brought us here... together. But I can't find the right words, so we sit together, in silence.