Constant

Chapter 16

(Lydia)

"I want to show you something," I said to Peter later that day as he was helping me wash the berries that we had picked. The picked berries were brought in by the basket load and then I would put them in a bucket and wash them. After they were washed they were transferred into a large bowl and Peter would take them outside in order for them to dry. He had just brought an empty bowl back in the house after he put the berries outside to be dried in the heat. 

"What is it?" He asked as he took the last bowl from me to take outside for the berries to dry. I picked up the bucket of water that was being used to rinse off the fruit. He frowned at me as I hefted the bucket. He hurried to dump the berries and return to take the bucket from me. I was reluctant to let him take it because he was still healing. 

Once both of us were inside I turned my back to him and started undoing the buttons on my dress. I eased my arms out of the sleeves and let the top of the dress drop to my waist where it stayed. 

"Lydia?" He said like a warning. I knew that he was confused by my actions but I had to show him the scars from the past so that I could move on to the future. He had to know what had happened to me. If he didn't understand my scars then he wouldn't ever be able to understand me. "What are you doing?"

"I need to show you something," I loosened the tie at the top of my under dress and pushed the narrow sleeves off of my shoulders as I held the dress up to my front. I heard a sharp intake of breath and I knew that Peter had seen the scars on my back. He walked across the kitchen towards me while I kept my eyes on the flowers that were in a vase on the table. I felt his gentle fingers trace one of the longer scars that ran over my shoulder blade and I flinched. "That was when I fell against the stove," I said as his fingers ran over the length of it. "At least that's what I told James when he patched me up. It did come from the stove and I did fall. My father slapped me so hard that I lost my balance and crashed into the corner. I remember laying there on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath as my father stepped over me to walk to his room and go to sleep with a bottle." 

Peter brushed my loose braid off of my shoulder and touched the scar that started at the base of my ear and traveled up past my hairline. "That one was from trying to keep my door shut. My father threw himself against it and I was thrown backwards against my bed post. I don't remember much about the rest of that night." 

I felt Peter's gentle fingers on the other scars on my back and I told him the stories that went with each of them. He didn't say anything. He just listened as I explained what had happened. The entire time I kept my eyes on the flowers on the table. I didn't want to see his expression. I didn't want to know what he thought of me. 

I felt his fingers under my chin as he came to stand in front of me. He lifted my face up so that I had to look at him. He leaned down to press a kiss against my lips that was as gentle as his fingers had been against my skin. 

"I won't ever hurt you," He said once he pulled away. I slipped my arms through the narrow sleeves of my under dress and shrugged it up. Peter's eye caught on the yellowed bruise that was around my upper arm. "What's this one from?" He asked as he lifted my arm to look at it from a different angle. The prints of fingers were still visible in the ugly yellowed mark. He must have realized that the marks were from fingers because he wrapped his own hand around the mark. His hands were much to large and his fingers were too long to be a match. 

"My father doesn't like it when I walk away from him," I said and then started to slide my arms through the sleeves on my dress. Peter let my arm go as I pulled the dress up and started doing up the buttons. 

"What did Ruben do about all of this?"

"He didn't want to embarrass me so we didn't talk about it."