Lesson Learned {Student Teacher Romance}

Chapter 25

My heart silently shreds as Will continues. 

"Most of you have heard my story," he says with a sad smile, "but as you know, it helps to talk about our trauma with the few people out there who understand it."

I snap my mouth closed as the friendly faces around us nod supportively. 

"My father was a heavy drinker," Will goes on quietly. "Some of my earliest memories are of him coming home from work and pouring himself a scotch, and then another, and then another, until he would either pass out on the couch or get angry. We would tiptoe around because it didn't take much to set him off."

That strikes a chord with me and I find myself nodding along too. 

"Whenever his drinking would get out of control my mom would get him into a program," Will winces. "He would disappear for a while, and our family would be fine for a while. Then he'd come home and he'd go right back to drinking. I used to find empty plastic cups stashed all over the house."

Some people are tearing up and some look angry. Everyone in the room recognized something in Will's words.

"It was worst when he got physical," Will hangs his head and I fight the urge to rub his back the way he did for me. "And my dad was a big guy, so he was pretty terrifying when he threw his weight around. I swear, sometimes I thought I could see pure hatred in his eyes."

A tear rolls down my cheek as I listen to this smart, sensitive man bare his soul. 

"I tried to take the brunt of his abuse," Will's revelation breaks my resolve and I place a hand on his upper back. Will reacts to my touch with a brief glance. "I hated being scared of that man. It was this endless cycle that never got better. What's worse? He left us. After everything we did to cover up his bad behavior, he left us. 

"Things got a little easier when I went to college. My dad remarried, and as far as I can tell, he's trying to keep himself in check for his new wife. Which honestly makes me angrier than it should. I mean, why couldn't he stay sober for us?"

For the first time in a long time,  I feel like I'm right where I need to be. 

The rest of the hour I listen while others talk. I didn't have to say a word to feel seen and understood. 

Just being there was enough. 

Somewhere in between those two hours of listening to others, Will's hand found mine. 

When the meeting ended I was filled with a strange sense of elation as Will and I say our goodbyes before heading out to his car. 

He unlocks the passenger side door for me with a hopeful expression. 

"So, how are you feeling?" He asks.

"Great," I smile. "Thank you."

"For what?" He's leaning over the door between us. 

"For sharing this with me," I whisper. "How did you know?"

"After I found this group it became a lot easier to spot other children of addicts," Will admits with a lopsided smile. "Get in." 

I climb into his car and consider his empathic ability. Maybe he's done this for more students than just me. 

"Would you like to go somewhere and talk?" Will asks as he settles in his seat. "I promise I won't keep you out too late."

"Sure," I nod and try not to read into his offer. 

Will drove us through the sleepy streets of West Seattle until the quaint suburban houses gave way to an empty beach.