Winter Love (Book Two)

13 | Five A.M.

SAMI'S POV

The soft creak of the front door opening was enough to stir me from my dreamless sleep, a part of me still in disbelief that I am indeed laying on the couch, my fleece splayed across the couch, Jesse's strong arms wrapped around me protectively, his rhythmic breaths sending chills down my spine. But my attention had completely been stolen by the silhouette of my mother, her gaze fixed on the couch.

"You're back?" I question softly, trying to wiggle my way out of Jesse's stronghold.

"Did I wake you?" she asks, turning on the living room light, my eyes squinting involuntarily at the sudden brightness of the room.

"No, it's just..."

"Mhm?" Jesse mumbles, cutting my response short - as he, himself, peels those warm eyes open, a perfect contrast to the frigid weather beyond these four walls. "What did you say?"

"I was talking to mom."

"Oh," he shoots up into a sitting position: "hello Ms. Moore" he rubs away at his eyes, and regardless of the fact that it was - I glance at the watch on the wall, 04h57 - he is still just as polite as ever.

"Jesse" she smiles slightly, "I thought I had told you to call me Rebecca. And I thought you were still sick" she comments, taking a cautious step forward, such a simple act - that did wonders in making me realise that this lie, this pretence I'd kept up - inadvertently protecting my tormentors, had gone way too far, and it was about time that my mother knew the truth...even though it is bloody five in the morning.

"I wasn't sick" I start, the loose thread on my fleece the only thing my eyes can focus. "I've been getting bullied mom" my voice cracks ridiculously, tears clouding my vision.

"Oh my baby" my mother says softly, rushing to kneel before me, taking my hands into hers, "I'm so sorry" she says, her voice laced with emotion I wish I could see in her face, the tears preventing me from doing so. "B-but why didn't you say anything?"

And I wish I had the words, or the strength to just spill my guts out, lay the truth bare to remove this heavy load of guilt I've carried over the past number of weeks for not only shutting my boyfriend out, but by lying to my mother. Constantly. And all I muster is a tight sob, my shoulders rising and falling rapidly, as the emotion poured out of me the only way I know best.

"It was my fault" Jesse supplies, his hand settling on my lower back. "The guys I went to school with found out about us. And I guess they figured I was probably playing him, using him..." he sighs, "...so they decided that the best bet they had at dealing with that information, was to skip me - as the other party that's involved in all this - and just torment Sami."

As soon as the last word is uttered, a pregnant silence engulfs the room, the exception being my staggered breaths that did their fair bit in filling in the void. Tears still streamed down my eyes, not only from the sensitivity of the topic, but because I couldn't, for the life of me - grab my emotions by the balls and spill everything that's plagued me till this point. I couldn't get my mouth to link with my mind to truly let them know just how much these recent events had affected me; nor muster up the courage to tell them about the voice that broke my will down from the inside.

"Jesse, you know I have absolutely no problem with you" my mom starts, "but if my son's gonna be on the firing line, something has to change. Now I need you to be honest with me, are you playing my son?"

"No" he shakes his head defiantly, "I wouldn't do that to him, I...I love him, and I've already dealt with those guys, they won't ever bother you again" he says, now directed at me. And as much as my heart did a massive somersault - certainly not yet used to hearing those three words fall out of his pink, plump lips, I couldn't help the slight concern that manifests in me, in two ways gruelling ways: One, I hadn't been able to tell him that the love he feels is mutual; and two, what exactly happened before he came here.

"What did y-you do to them?" I manage to stutter out, looking at my boyfriend with his lopsided smirk, still as breathtaking as ever - regardless of the fact that it is five in the bloody morning. In response, he just extends his arm, placing his larger hand over my thigh, a simple action that I've grown so fond of ever since we started dating, but also discreetly showing off his bruised and beat knuckles, his skin torn in some parts, painted over with dried up blood, forcing a gasp out of me.

"I know..." he cuts in before I could add anything, "I know just how big your heart is, but I don't want you to worry a hair on your head about those morons. They got everything they deserved" he says in finality, certainly not leaving any room to debate this matter further. And as I stare at him, really allowing myself to swim in those forest green eyes, a deep pain swells in my stomach for ever listening to that voice. Guilt washes over me at realising that I allowed it to control me, dictate the level of confidence I have in what Jesse and I share. I gave it free reign to take over my life, afforded it the opportunity to isolate me from the people I truly care about. The people I know love me...but now I have to take back that control. I need that control back so I can go about living my life with those I love by my side:

"I-I think I have a problem" I say softly, my gaze shifting from Jesse, to my worn out fleece, a fresh wave of tears swelling up in my eyes, allowing myself to be vulnerable to the people I know would never judge me.

"What do you mean baby?"

"This makes no sense but..." I suck in a deep breath, "...there's this voice in my head," I force my lips to seal shut, overwhelmed by the traces of self-doubt I've felt ever since I was a little kid, showing me that they never relented, they still haunted me - and every now and then, they'll make their presence felt. All rooted in past events, events I had no control over, events that brewed an unfathomable amount of trauma...

From the trauma of inviting dozens of kids to my birthday party a few years back, the countless hours it took to put up the decorations, the strings my mother had to pull in order to get the cake delivered on time - only to have no one show up. Or when my former best friend, Chris - turned into one of my bullies to earn himself a spot at the popular kids' table. Or even better: the time my dad dropped me off at my grandma's house, and drove off into the sunset with his step kids and his brand new family that was worth his time...it all stung.

And as minimal as it may have seemed on the surface, it instilled questions in me. It changed me, and not necessarily for the better. And not only did it make me doubt people's true intentions - from Zoe, to Felix and Beau, to Jesse; it also makes me doubt myself. Put myself down when I have no reason to...make me question why Jesse chose me, and continues to do so even though I know he can do so much better...

"What does that voice say?" my mom asks, worry etched across her features.

"It puts me down" I release a shaky breath, "it tells me I'm not worthy, and it's annoying because I don't know why I'm like this. Why can't I just let go of those past disappointments? Why can't I forget that I was never enough for Chris? Why can't I move on from the anguish I felt the last time I saw my dad? Why can't I forgive Zoe? If not for them, then at least for me...c-cause it's been so long..." I trail off with a sob.

"Oh Sami," my mom coos, squeezing my hands as an attempt to comfort me, "let me tell you something son" she starts softly, "there's nothing wrong with feeling like that. I need you to look at it like this, if I were to trip you - intentionally, or unintentionally, and you took a nasty fall and scraped your knees; you'll certainly heal at some point - but the scars you got from that fall will remain with you years after that fall. When people hurt you, you may heal with time, you may learn to live with the pain and their words and actions won't sting as hard as they once did, but the scars - the trauma they leave behind, it just becomes a burden we cope with. It becomes your responsibility to deal with that. But in your case it's not just your responsibility, it's not just a one man battle, it's a team effort. You've got me, you've got your boyfriend, you've got your friends, and we're all willing to help."

"So, y-you don't think I'm crazy?"

"I think you're crazy in love" she smiles, "but crazy...nah."

A light chuckle bubbles out of my mouth, my head instinctively falling on Jesse's shoulder...oh, how I've missed this!