Remedy

12. Vulnerable Trust

I woke up on an unfamiliar bed. My heart raced before I saw Seyiso come in with his laptop in hand. "You're awake." I nodded but could feel the lines on my forehead crease in confusion. "You've been out for a while. You fell asleep towards the end of the movie and I didn't think you'd feel comfortable on the couch." That was very thoughtful of him.

"I should go." "The rain calmed a while ago but it's getting worse now." He was right. I could even hear thunder threatening to attack anyone who stepped outside. "So I'm stuck here," I said. "Stuck isn't a word I would use," he said sitting in the bed beside me.

I lied down and looked up at him. The blanket was warm and comforting. "Are you going back to sleep?" he asked.

Suddenly, I felt a knot in my chest. Great discomfort. I remembered one of the ladies in my church sharing a testimony of how God spared her life when she naively went to a man's house.

She had been going on dates with him for weeks and he invited her into his home. They had a few drinks and she suddenly felt sleepy. She woke up in his bed, the sheets bloodied and felt the greatest discomfort she had ever known.

Like she'd lost a part of herself. She'd vowed to God that she would only ever be intimate with the man she married. But there she was, naked in a stranger's bed. She felt shame unimaginable. She was able to get dressed quickly and run for her life. It still haunted her.

Seyiso noticed my discomfort. "Are you okay?" "I hate men, sometimes." The words escaped my lips before I could register that I was saying that to a man. But he didn't react distastefully. "I can't blame you. Sometimes we do the most abhorrent things and women fall victim." My frown deepened.

I told him about the lady from my church. His expression changed throughout the story. First it was shock, then anger, then remorse, then he couldn't decide whether to come closer to comfort me or back away. He carried so much guilt for something he had never commited.

"I'm so sorry. I promise you I only carried you to the bed for your own comfort. I would never hurt you. Or any woman. If you feel uncomfortable, I can leave the room until the storm is over. Then I'll take you back to res."

I could only feel compassion for a man who carried the weight of guilt when he only acted out of kindness. I moved closer to him. He sat still, not knowing what to do with himself.

"It's okay. I just remembered it. That doesn't mean I don't trust you. I don't know you as well as I should but I feel that I can trust you. You're kind. You'd never do anything like that. You've shown your character throughout the time that I've known you. I feel safe around you. And in a world where no man deserves such trust, it means so much."

I reached for his cheek. His eyes softened but he still didn't move to touch me back. Suddenly, with a wave of bravado I didn't know I had, I embraced him, my body moving over to his that he had no choice but to place me on top of him for my own comfort. But as soon as I was in a comfortable position, his hands were removed from me.

He looked at me, his eyes wanting but his entire body full of restraint. I nodded, giving him permission to hold me. Still, he didn't move. I kissed him, thinking that was confirmation enough. He kissed me back but didn't place a finger on my body. "Are you okay with this?" he asked. I nodded, breathless. "I need verbal consent. Yes or no?" His voice was firm but gentle. "Yes," I said.

And his arms pulled me closer, wrapping around me fully as his lips explored mine. His movements were slow, almost cautious, like he was exploring vulnerable territory. And it allowed me to feel brave, in control, as I deepened the kiss. A surge of warmth, a passion that burned but didn't consume me with its flames, flowed in me. Outside, the storm raged. But there, in his arms, I felt safer than I could ever be.

For a while, we held each other and listened to the storm outside. "This might sound... forward. But can I stay here? Even if the rain calms down?" I asked. He turned to look at me, his hand still gently caressing my shoulder. "I'd be happy about that. You can stay for as long as you like."

He kissed my temple. "How is it?" "What?" "Living alone?" I asked. "I've always felt alone even when I was living with people. But here, I feel comfortable. It's my own space and I can do with it what I want." "Do you feel alone now?" I asked. "No. I feel like there's a beautiful lady in my arms and I'd like her to stay here longer than what's appropriate." I giggled. It sounded like a teenage girl thing to do.

"I think we've passed any level of propriety." "Your father would chop my head off if he knew about this. He's already skeptical of me."

"True. But he trusts me. More than that, he trusts that he raised me well enough to not make stupid decisions. I'd love to stay here for the whole week with you and just kiss and hold each other underneath these comfortable blankets. But I was raised better than that. And I know not to be stupid enough to believe that this will end here. Some things you'll have to walk down the alter for," I said. His body stiffened.

I realised I had been too forward. Who talks about marriage when we aren't even in a relationship? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I was just raised in a community where that's what's expected of us. I'm not asking you to marry me. Please don't think I'm weird."

His body relaxed and he laughed. "No, it's okay. I respect that. I just have a very different view of marriage. My parents' marriage seemed so happy and perfect but it was all a facade. My dad's second marriage is just built on the wrong foundation." "Your marriage doesn't have to mirror theirs."

"Even so, I'd rather not. That's why I didn't engage in relationships for a while. I didn't want to feel so strongly about someone only to be betrayed like that. My dad cheated on my mother. Had an entire family behind her back. Most of all, he hurt me. I don't want to feel like that again."

I shifted and held him tighter. "People are complicated. I'm not promising you that you won't get hurt. But loving people means accepting the possibility of being hurt. What you father did was terrible. But you shouldn't keep everyone else at an arms length because of it. You're only punishing yourself for what he did," I said before planting a kiss on his chest.

"You're right. But it is easier said than done." "When you find the right person, it's as easy done as it is said." He lifted my chin and his eyes met mine. "I think the right person is not far." I smiled. "Not at all," I said before closing the distance between us.