All of You (18 page)

Lincoln and I snuggled on his couch in his
man cave after dinner on the pretense of watching a movie. I had
worn a sweater dress that fell to my midthighs and leggings solely
for this reason. I assumed at some point tonight we would be
cuddling, and I didn’t want to worry about my shirt riding up and
exposing my scars. I felt the familiar guilty sensation wash
through me again as I remembered why I was wearing this particular
outfit, but I pushed it aside and concentrated on how good it felt
to be snuggled against Lincoln. He was so warm and comfortable.
When we began watching the movie, we had been sitting upright.
Lincoln had his arm around me, and I was tucked into his side, but
as the movie progressed we gradually got more comfortable until
Lincoln was basically lying down on the couch with me lying on top
of him again, my head on his chest. I could hear his steady
heartbeat, and it was lulling me to sleep. He had one arm wrapped
around me and was tracing circles on my back with his fingertips.
His other hand was holding mine against his chest. His breathing
was slow and steady, and had it not been for his fingertips on my
back, I would have thought he was asleep. I was very close myself
by the time the movie ended.

“Finally,” Lincoln said quietly.

“Hmm??” I asked with a sleepy voice.

“Finally that damn movie’s over.” He reached
for the remote and turned off the TV.

“You didn’t like it?” I was kind of hurt. I
thought I had picked out good movies.

“Did you catch any of that movie?”

“No,” I giggled and snuggled into him. I had
been too focused on Lincoln to pay attention to the movie.

“Worth it, though,” he said as he moved both
hands down to my hips. This is why I wore the sweater dress. He
would not have easy access to me.

I lifted my head off his chest and shifted
forward so I could look at him. I peered down into his deep blue
eyes and forgot about everything other than this man underneath me.
I didn’t want to worry about anything other than making Lincoln
feel as special as he made me feel. I lowered my lips to his and
kissed him deeply. All thoughts of being tired vanished from my
mind as he squeezed my hips and kissed me back. Our mouths moved
together, and I felt his tongue against my lips. I opened my mouth
to let him in and moaned as I pushed my tongue back against his.
Our legs tangled, and Lincoln’s hands moved all over my body. One
hand clenched on my hip while he ran the other from my waist to my
back and then to my ribs. Had I not been distracted by his kiss, it
would have tickled. He paused on my ribs momentarily before moving
his hand up to cup my breast. He moaned into my mouth as he
squeezed my breast through my sweater, and I whimpered when his
thumb skimmed over my nipple, causing warm desire to flow through
me.

Without breaking our connection, Lincoln
shifted out from under me and rolled, taking me with him so I ended
up on my back with my head on the pillow of the couch and Lincoln
on top of me. He pulled back and looked down at me while smiling. I
smiled back and brought a hand up to run my fingers through his
short hair. His body weight felt so good on me.

He brought his lips down to mine again and
kissed me passionately. I moved my hand down to Lincoln’s waist and
ran my fingers over the skin at his hip where his shirt had ridden
up. Lincoln hummed with pleasure, and I could feel him hardening
through his jeans as he moved against my leg. Lincoln’s passion
intensified, and he moved his hand from my breast to my thigh.

My head was too foggy from the passion
between us to realize what he was doing before it was too late.
Lincoln slipped his hand under the hem of my dress and shifted his
weight so he was able to pull my dress up for better access to me.
Lincoln had his hand all the way up to the top of my leggings
before my brain kicked in.

“Stop. Stop.” I pleaded as I ripped my lips
away from his. “Please stop,” I repeated, clamping my hand over
Lincoln’s and pushing it away. I squeezed my eyes shut, and I felt
Lincoln pull back from me, halting his advances. I tried to wiggle
out from underneath him, but his weight was too great. “Please
stop, Lincoln!” I cried, panicking.

“I’ve stopped! I’m not doing anything,
Jillian,” he said with concern as he sat back and held his hands
up. I looked down and saw my dress was bunched up around my waist
but still over my leggings. No skin was showing.

I swallowed hard with relief. I pulled my
sweater back in place and tried to calm my breathing.

“Jillian, I’m sorry! I thought you… I thought
we…” he stumbled his apology.

I just shook my head and tried to hide my
embarrassment. I covered my face with my hands to conceal the tears
welling up in my eyes. I desperately wanted this man. And I knew he
wanted me too. Or at least he thought he wanted me. I knew he
wanted more from me, but I couldn’t give it to him and it made my
heart hurt.

“I should go home,” I said and sat up on the
couch, wishing I had driven myself.

“What?! No!” Lincoln argued. “Please don’t
leave, baby. I’m sorry I got a little overexcited. I’ll behave.
Don’t leave.” He thought I was mad at him for pushing too fast.

“Lincoln, no—you didn’t do anything wrong.
I’m sorry. I just…” I trailed off. I didn’t know what to tell him.
Now would be the perfect time to explain why I couldn’t be with
him. But I chickened out.

“Jillian?” Lincoln prompted me.

“I’m sorry. It’s late. I should go.”

Lincoln scooted closer to me on the couch and
stroked my head with his hand, but I turned away from his comfort.
I felt like I was lying to him and I didn’t deserved his
affection.

“Jillian, please talk to me. I’m sorry,
baby.” He sounded so regretful. The need to assure him that I was
okay made me lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder. He
kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back. “It’s okay, baby.
We’ll take it slow. Just don’t leave.”

We sat on the couch like that for a long
while. Lincoln wanted me to talk to him but I couldn’t find the
words. I had kept my secret locked up for so long I didn’t even
know where to start.

I imagined Lincoln’s reaction. I pictured the
disgusted look on his face when he saw my scars and how he would
recoil away from me. My heart hurt. I didn’t want to lose him but
the fear of him finding out how ugly I was made me retreat
emotionally.

Finally Lincoln broke the silence by
suggesting going for a walk down by the lake. He didn’t want me to
leave, and knowing I had ruined our night made me agree even though
I really just wanted to go home.

We bundled up and walked along the
snow-covered beach. Lincoln held my hand and I tried to keep up
conversation, but it was only halfhearted. I knew he suspected
something was off with me, but he also didn’t ask, perhaps knowing
I wouldn’t tell him and if he pushed me I would leave.

The night sky was cloudless and the moonlight
illuminated our path. I stopped walking and turned my head up to
look at the stars. I could see my breath fogging every time I
exhaled. Lincoln stepped in front of me and brought his hand up to
cup my cheek.

“You’re so beautiful right now,” he told me.
I knew he would not be saying that if he had discovered my scars
tonight.

I felt the blush rising, and I looked down at
the snow and stepped back from him.

“Jillian…please look at me.” I kept my head
down for a moment. I didn’t want to look at him. If I looked at
him, I felt he would know I was withdrawing from him.

He brought his hand to my chin and pulled my
face up, forcing me to look at him. “I just need for you to know
how beautiful you are right now. You’re incredibly gorgeous, and
I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

I wished those words could be the truth. I
knew I was none of the things Lincoln said. I felt like my scars
were screaming at me underneath my clothes damning me to a life of
loneliness and sadness.

Before meeting Lincoln, I had accepted my
fate. I would grow old and die a lonely, ugly spinster, never
having known the love of a man. But I had accepted that before
Lincoln came into my life. Never before did I have something so
wonderful to hope for. I had let myself pretend for a brief time I
could be normal. I should have just dismissed him from the
beginning. Left the parade and never looked back. But he had been
so persistent and handsome, and he said the sweetest things to me.
I let myself hope that we could have a relationship when in reality
he would never call me beautiful if he knew the truth. I had to
stop this sham. There was nothing to be gained by pretending we
could have a relationship. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt
Lincoln, but I couldn’t let this continue.

“Lincoln…” I looked up at him and saw hope in
his eyes. I realized he was hoping I would tell him why I freaked
out on the couch and what I was holding back from him. “It’s
getting late,” I told him.

Lincoln’s face fell. The hope vanished from
his eyes and was replaced with concern and a touch of anger. I
could tell he was upset I hadn’t confided in him. His eyes roamed
my face, and finally he pulled me into a gentle hug. “Okay, baby.
I’ll take you home.”

~~~~~~~~

“Will you come to my game tomorrow?” Lincoln
asked as he stood in front of me outside my front door.

“Oh, I have to watch Tabitha tomorrow,” I
told him. It was the truth and an easy excuse.

“Bring her with. I’ll get you both tickets,”
he said, his eyes were pleading.

I scrunched up my nose. “Tabitha doesn’t
really like hockey. I don’t think I could get her to sit through a
whole game.”

He sighed. “Could you try? For me?” Lincoln
was outright pleading with me now.

I couldn’t look him in the eye. So I looked
down and simply nodded.

“I’ll have tickets for you at Will Call. Just
give them your name.”

I nodded and continued to look at the floor.
I was afraid if I looked him in the eye I would break down.

“Jillian…” he said softly as he grabbed my
hand and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I don’t know how to
make this better if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.” He kissed my
cheek and said good night and walked back to his SUV.

My eyes welled up, and I unlocked the door
and entered the dark house. I was grateful Rebecca and Tabitha had
already gone to bed.

I slipped off my shoes and beautiful new coat
and trudged up the dark stairwell to my bedroom. I grabbed my
pajamas and went to the bathroom. When I finished my bedtime
hygiene routine, I stood in front of the mirror naked. Dark red
jagged, distorted skin ran from my sternum down my stomach to the
top of my left thigh, covering my hip and part of my left butt
cheek. The skin was warped, lumpy, and angry red, the exact
opposite of my untouched skin. The edges of the scars were pulled
tight, showing an attempt to graph new skin over the burned areas
to help with healing. It had healed well but the visible results
were not as positive.

Tears fell out of my eyes as I tried to cover
the ugly gnarled scars with my hands, splaying them out over my
stomach and hip. I sobbed as I recalled everything these scars held
me back from experiencing. I missed my father’s funeral. I had been
in the hospital for the majority of fifth grade. By the time I was
healed enough after the fire to return to school, my friends had
either forgotten about me or they were too young to realize what
had happened and therefor were wary of me. For the remainder of my
middle-school career, I spent most of my free time catching up on
schoolwork or in therapy. My school attendance suffered due to my
numerous doctors’ visits, and as I transitioned into high school I
became an outcast.

I tried to be friendly and upbeat, but the
other students knew about my past and either labeled me as a freak
or looked upon me with pity.

I missed prom because no one wanted to take
the burned girl as a date, and I missed graduation due to an
infection after a skin graft procedure. By the time I got to
college, I was more than happy to leave behind my traumatized past
and start new, just like everyone hopes to do in college.

First semester of my freshman year went well.
I had a bitch for a roommate, but I mostly stayed to myself and
Mackenzie didn’t bother me. I went out a few times with girls from
my dorm, but years of being alone made old habits hard to break. I
enjoyed life and I wanted to have friends to share it with, but
when Mackenzie detonated her bitch bomb in my life, she caused
untold damage. I gave up trying to have any friends. I couldn’t go
through that hurt again. I moved out of the dorms before the year
ended and eventually moved in with Rebecca and Tabitha.

That was my saving grace. Tabitha would never
hurt me or abandon me. I had been content with my life. School,
work, Tabitha. I often pretended Tabitha was my own daughter when
we were out together, just the two of us. I knew I would never have
kids. I would never find a man that wanted me and wanted to have a
family with me. That was the hardest thing to bear about my whole
fucked-up life. Tabitha was as close as I was ever going to get to
motherhood. I cherished my time with my niece. I never stepped on
Rebecca’s authority, but I also feared the inevitable day I would
have to move out and away from Tabitha.

But now everything was a disaster. I thought
about Lincoln and what he wanted from me. Things I could never give
him. I wasn’t being fair to him. He was such a wonderful man. He
deserved to have someone who could make him happy. Not this shell
of a woman who could never be beautiful for him.

I abruptly turned the light off in the
bathroom. I couldn’t stand to see my reflection any longer. I felt
around for my pajamas lying on the floor and got dressed in the
dark. Retreating to my bedroom, I collapsed on my bed and sobbed
into my pillow. I hated feeling this way. I didn’t want to cry
myself to sleep and allow my pain to consume me. I didn’t want live
in my grief. I wanted to cherish this life that had almost been
ripped away from me in the fire, and I wanted to honor the memory
of my father by living a full and happy life.