A Classic MacGyver story

Chapter Four

MacGyver and I had been going steady for well over 4 months. These were the best months of my life. Every day we spent apart made the days we saw each other that much better. The calls I would receive from him from an airport or a hotel or a gas station telling me that he was on his way home made my heart pound and my head go dizzy. We had not come around to anything further than a long-lasting hug or a kiss on the cheek but our long walks around LA and on the beaches were all we needed. I felt that I could trust him. I could trust him with anything.

"MacGyver," I whispered through the phone.

"Fyn? Are you OK?" He asked me, the concern in his voice broke my heart even more.

"Yeah, I'm OK. Can you come over?" I exhaled.

"Absolutely, I'll be there in a few minutes."

He hung up and so did I. With my sleeve, I wiped the tears away from my eyes. I went into the bathroom and fixed my hair a little, taking it from wild and frizzy to wild and less frizzy. As he promised, MacGyver walked into my house a few minutes later. We stood about 10 feet from each other. I knew that he saw I was crying. He took three giant strides over to me and took me up in a giant hug. My feet came up from the floor and wrapped around his waist. My tears fell again, soaking his leather jacket.

"Tell me what's wrong," he whispered.

"I never told you one important thing about myself," I confessed to him.

"You can share when you're ready, or, you don't have to share at all, I don't mind," Mac assured me.

"I need to, I only kept it from you because I didn't know if I really should. But I know I can and I'm ready to share now."

My tears slowed as I explained to him. My legs tightened around his waist as he held me up, my nose buried into his neck. I could feel my heart and knew he could feel it as well, I could feel his heart too.

I unwrapped myself from him and took his hand, bringing him to my bedroom. I picked up the box that I had taken out many months ago and set it in MacGyver's hands.

"Open it," I whispered to him.

Carefully, he took the lid off and set it on my bed. His eyes went over the pictures and papers and letters and terrible memories that haunted me in my past, in my future.

"You don't look happy at all in these pictures," he finally said, his hand held up a photo of Vance and me.

"I wasn't," I answered him.

"You seem happier now though," he replied.

"I am, I definitely am. And I think I'm ready to tell you the story. Only if you want to hear it of course," I told him.

He looked me dead in the eyes and set his hand on my cheek. "I would love to hear anything you have to say about anything."

My tears started up again and MacGyver dried them with his thumb. I turned my head into his hand and kissed it, tasting my tears on his skin.

MacGyver walked me down to the beach, the sun was almost completely set and the darkness was taking over the sky. We walked out to a spot undisturbed and sat down in the sand. I took some of the pictures out of the box.

"This is Vance. He was my boyfriend for three years. The first year was ok, I was happy, but I felt it could be missing something. When I brought up the topic of breaking up then he started to abuse me. First, it was mental, then it became physical," I started to explain.

I let go of the picture and rolled up my sleeve. The scars of his abuse were still clear and deep. The bruises had long since faded and healed but the memories and the scars that had once bore blood were engraved into my skin. Mac took my arm, straining to see the scars in the dim light.