The Light in the Wound (9 page)

We were both jittery when we saw each other. Betty’s parents had left, and she was waiting for Leigh to pick her up for their weekend away.

“Hi Iss,” Jesse said, as he pulled me into a big hug. He was so much larger than me that his embrace was truly my safe place. When I was enclosed in there, I felt like nothing could hurt me. We engaged in small talk until Betty’s cell phone rang, and she ran out the door. Jesse pulled me close to him and muttered, “I love you so much, Issy.”

I led him up the long, winding stairway toward Betty’s bedroom. It had huge white double doors, and I could register his surprise as we walked into the large area, which was as big as an apartment. “Sheesh,” he exhaled.

“What can I say, she’s the youngest child. The baby.” I laughed, my hand never letting go of his.

“You know, it’s only a matter of time before your family realizes that I’m not good enough for you,” he said pensively.

“What do you mean? You’re every parents’ dream. You’re so successful, ambitious, and hard working. Any girl would be so lucky to have you.”

“You’re
MY dream. Come here.”

He kissed me deeply again, this time licking my lips and teeth and then sucking fervently on my top lip. He pushed me against the wall and desperately pressed against me. I could feel him, all of him, strained against the front of his jeans. He slowly took a step back and whispered, “Issy, let me see you.”

I was shaking as I pulled off my shirt, unbuttoned my jeans and stepped out in just my bra and panties. “I love you, Jesse,” I said, as I stood in front of him, surprisingly bold and confident.

“You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” he said as he unclasped my bra and pulled my panties down. I was completely naked. He touched me all over and squeezed my breasts as they overflowed from his hands. “I love your breasts, Iss. Let me taste them.” He sucked and tugged at my nipples as he pressed himself against me even more. He prepared me with his fingers until I pulled at his jeans and fumbled with the buttons. He looked at me so lovingly, I was afraid that he might be confusing his feelings for pity. My doubt quickly dissipated as soon as his lips touched my skin once again. His kisses were fevered and frantic, as if he wanted to kiss every part of my face, my ears, my neck. Slowly, he picked me up and laid me tenderly on the bed.

Jesse groaned as he slowly entered me. I let out a small cry as the sharp pain that took me by surprise suddenly felt so excruciatingly good. And just as soon as it had started, it was done. Jesse withdrew himself as soon as he felt his orgasm taking over. “I love you,” he whispered as he pressed himself against me. He came all over my stomach as I lay underneath him stroking his hair.

This is it,
I thought
. It’s done. Nothing can change this. Nothing can take this away from me. Something as indefinable as this can never materialize into anything that can be lost or thrown away.

We stayed in bed for a few minutes before getting up and cleaning ourselves in the bathroom. Later on during the car ride home, I noticed that my pager had gone off while we were in the house. When I checked it, there was a message from Betty that read:

Tess driving back to the house, she forgot her phone. Do NOT make a sound or leave my bedroom until you are sure that the coast is clear.

Close call.

That night, I was lying in bed, worried and confused about what happened between us. Jesse never brought it up when he called that evening. I wanted to speak to him about it and to ask him how he felt, but he avoided the topic altogether. I finally dialed Betty’s number instead.

“Hey, I’ve been dying to call you but worried that it would be too late. How are you? How was everything?” she asked excitedly.

“Did your sister really come back to the house? Did she say anything to you? My gosh, B, what luck!”

“No, she didn’t say anything. It’s all good. How was it, though?”

“I’m bleeding, but I think that’s normal, right?” I whispered, embarrassed.

“Yes, it is, actually. How was Jesse? What did he say?” she asked.

“Jesse hasn’t said a word about what happened. I don’t know how to feel, B. I feel so special and different, but he’s acting like nothing’s new,” I said as tears started to form in my eyes.

“Huh. Sorry, Isabel, Leigh wasn’t like that. He was very attentive and wanted me to talk through it to make sure I was okay,” Betty hesitated. I knew she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

“I guess Jesse’s freaked out or something. Or maybe he really just doesn’t think it’s a big deal,” I mused.

“That’s okay, right? You’re going to be all right?” she asked worriedly.

I could tell that her voice was strained, and she was trying to sound lighthearted about it.

“I’m fine,” I responded.

As I hung up the phone that night, I wondered whether I had lost him.

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

—Ernest Hemingway

Jesse and I had been dating for almost two years. We fell into the routine of seeing each other on weekends, before and after baseball games and on Saturday evenings at either of our houses. We liked to stay over at my house because of the privacy that it afforded us. We never spoke about our first time together, although our relationship had grown passionate and intense, both physically and emotionally. He was in my thoughts every single waking moment. I thought about him, I craved him, I constantly wanted to show him how much I adored him.

Jesse was still as driven as ever, especially during the time he was trying to get a baseball scholarship into the most prestigious Engineering college in the country. He capitalized on his popularity as President of the Student Council to run campaigns and put himself out there in social events. I, on the other hand, was content with staying on the sidelines. I read a lot, I wrote him stories and poems, and I pledged my love for him. I cooked him meals; I waited patiently. He was almost a different person when he was in public — laughing, friendly and very cordial with members of the opposite sex. When we were alone, he was focused on me. He liked to experiment a lot, loved to watch me, and my only goal was to please him. It made me feel loved, important and secure, even if girls surrounded him every single minute of every day.

The weekend before the Equestrian Regionals, I had to beg off watching his game so I could hang out by the indoor field and run some practice rounds on the new course. Pepe was doing so well by this time. I no longer had to dig in my heels for my two point for him to clear the jumps. He was so sensitive to my movements that it was almost as if he was an extension of my legs. My form had improved over the years, both on the flats and on the hurdles. I knew in my heart that we were on to winning a few more ribbons the following week. It was 9:00 P.M. on a Saturday night and most of the stalls were empty. These times on Pepe, riding like the wind and daring myself to clear the various heights on a gallop, was the game I loved to play in the open arena when no one was there but me. A few breathless minutes later, I had parked Pepe by the corner to give him a quick rest before doing a final lap around the field. To my surprise, Leigh and Alex entered the barn and trudged through the dirt to where I was.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here?” I asked happily.

“We just finished a game of racquetball, and Betty’s meeting me here,” Leigh replied. “Alex wanted to come along to say hi.”

“Hey, Alex. How’ve you been?” He was so attractive; he had actually been my back up plan until things got serious with Jesse. Alex reached out to run his hand along Pepe’s mane as I leaned back on the saddle and removed my boots from the stirrups.

“Isabel, you look so good on that horse. Which events are you doing next week? I would love to watch you compete,” he gushed.

A few seconds later, Pepe was startled by a rustling in the corner and bucked up as Jesse emerged with a big smile on his face. Leigh and Alex walked toward him and they exchanged cordial handshakes, making small talk about the World Series, the Indians and the Braves.

I was ecstatic that Jesse was there. I swung my right leg over Pepe’s back and quickly dismounted from the horse. The boys looked over to me as my boots hit the ground with a thud. Jesse started to walk toward me as the boys quickly mumbled their goodbyes. He didn’t look happy and I realized that he was staring at my clothes. I’m not sure whether the smoke that emanated from his gray eyes represented heat or anger or both.

I was wearing black britches and a white long sleeved shirt. Because I was small and easily swallowed by the tails of long button down shirts such as this, I normally hiked them up and tied them in a knot across my waistline. My shoulder-length hair was twisted up in a bun underneath my helmet. I hurriedly slid Pepe’s reins over his head and led him toward his stall. Jesse followed me without a word, and the walk to the barn seemed like forever in the silence that hung heavily between us. All that was heard was the clacking of Pepe’s hooves on the cement sidewalk. As soon as I hooked Pepe’s bridle to the cross tie right outside his stall, Jesse rushed right to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me through the barn frantically looking left and right, searching for something. He found the tack room and yanked me into the cold and dark space. He quickly shut the door and pressed me against it, both of his palms flat on the wood, his nose at my level, as he breathed me in.

“Issy, do you look like that every time you come here? Your shirt lifts up with every little move you make.”

Before I could even answer him, his lips were on me, crushing me, bruising me.

“You’re going to leave me someday, Issy, I know it,” he mumbled onto my lips.

“What are you talking about? Why are you being like this?” I could never be afraid of Jesse. I loved him for his intensity.

“If you drive me this crazy, can you imagine what you do to the others?” He panted.

“Others who? Jess?”

I was breathless and could hardly get a word out. Jesse was always forceful and passionate, but this time it felt like he was blaming me for something.

He tugged at the button of my britches, tore at the zipper and pulled my pants down as far down as they could go. He then stepped in between my legs and wrapped them around his waist.

“Don’t take your boots off,” he said as he pulled his pants down and drove himself into me. “Isabel, you’re mine, right? Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’ll never leave me. I can’t give you all this. I am afraid that even if I spent my whole life trying, I could never give you what you’re used to having.”

“I’m yours. Only yours. I don’t care about anything else! I only love you. You’re all I need.”

“What do you do when you’re here with them every day? They look at you. They want you. Do you tell them that you’re mine?”

He pumped harder and harder, rocking me back and forth, lifting me up and crashing me down on him. He leaned his head on my shoulder and bit me. Two pain points. Two pleasure points. I was confused.