Meet Me Halfway(38)

His touch was gentle, and his anger soothed the creature crouching in the corner of my mind. Because he wasn’t angry at me. He was angry for me.

“Go inside. Make some coffee and put on a pair of those crazy socks you like.”

I nodded dumbly; my focus tied to the thumb gently moving across my skin before he dropped his hand. I turned away, refusing to look back at my ex. I didn’t want to see his expression. I already knew it’d be full of a hatred fueled by his own bitter misery.

I made it as far as opening my front door, still shoe-less, before Aaron finally comprehended I really wasn’t going to talk to him. He broke, lashing out one last time. “Fuck you, Madison!”

Stepping over the threshold, I turned and caught a glimpse of Garrett standing over Aaron, staring down with his fists clenched at his sides. He was speaking, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying before I slammed the door shut.

I moved mechanically, starting a pot of coffee and walking into my bedroom. And it was when I reached back to lower the zipper of my dress that I finally snapped. I tore it off, scratching myself in the process, but I didn’t care.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I wadded the garment up and threw it across the room with an anguished yell. I’d never be able to wear it again after today. I’d paint it in flames if I could.

I threw on a pair of soft shorts and paused, naked from the waist up. Fuck it. I needed the comfort. I grabbed the over-sized hoodie and threw it over my head, the hem reaching past my shorts. I already felt better.

There was something about large, baggy clothing that made me feel safe. Similar to how you felt as a kid when you’d throw a blanket over your head to hide from the imaginary monster in your room. It was like nothing could touch you when you were enveloped in warmth.

Standing in the center of my room, I stared at the small filing cabinet I kept in the corner. I edged toward it, nausea coiling inside my stomach as I opened it and pulled out the well-worn stack of records tucked into the back. The messages, photos, screenshots, and medical reports.

Always. I’d always had to pull them out when I thought of Aaron. Always had to remind myself of what lived deep in his heart, what crawled and prowled under his skin waiting to eat me alive. As I moved to sit on the edge of my bed, I stared at the front page, not moving to flip through them.

For the first time since leaving him, I didn’t feel the need to. And it was the single most freeing moment of my life. I hugged Garrett’s hoodie closer, breathing in the faint scent of him still clinging to it, and chucked the papers in my nightstand.

Moving to my dresser, I opened the top drawer and stared at the bright neon colors. Garrett hadn’t just come to my defense; he’d also somehow known the two things in the entire world that helped me relax: coffee and fuzzy socks. I pulled a pair out, squeezing them in my hand, and a weird sensation bubbled in my chest.

A few minutes later, I was standing in the kitchen, adding creamer to my coffee when a harsh knock sounded against my front door. I froze, my throat drying out. I should’ve known he’d come back. Aaron never gave up when pushed. If anything, it only encouraged him to push back harder.

Gripping my mug how I was, I nearly dropped it in my relief when Garrett’s voice permeated through the wood. “Madison.”

I set the mug on the bar, shuffling over and unlatching the door. Pulling it open, I hid behind it, embarrassed. I knew I’d have to thank him eventually; I just hadn’t realized it’d be right now.

He removed his shoes, never taking his eyes off the side of my face peeking around the edge. “Is it okay that I’m here?”

I nodded, stepping around the door to shut it. “Yes. I made coffee; would you like some?” I watched him set his shoes—and mine—on the floor and wrang my hands, aware I looked even worse than I had that morning. The thought was depressing.

When he didn’t reply, I looked up, worried he was already regretting getting involved in my mess. His eyes were on my exposed legs, and his lips pressed into a flat line as he trailed his gaze up to my face. He cleared his throat, “Is it spiked?”

That drew a laugh from my throat. The man never failed to catch me off guard. “I wish. Liquor is usually above my budget, but after everything that happened today, I might make an exception.” I offered him a tentative smile, walking back to the kitchen.

He cleared his throat a second time, eyes darting away. “Coffee would be great.”

Thankful for something to do, I grabbed a second mug and poured him a large cup. He looked uncomfortable, and I had a feeling it had to do with my choice in clothing and the fact it was his. And why wouldn’t it? I’d practically answered the door looking butt naked underneath his hoodie.

Good job, Madison. Now the neighbor thinks you strut around naked in his clothes. Perfect.

“So, you going to tell me what that was?”

I handed him his coffee, pushing the creamer toward him. “It was nothing. I’m sorry you had to deal with it. I promise I don’t normally have drama.” At least, not anymore.

“I’m going to need you to do better than that. He told me he was your husband.”

He might as well have struck me. “No! I mean, he used to be. But we’ve been divorced for about three years, so I don’t know why he’d tell you that.”

I felt Garrett’s gaze like it was nestling inside my chest, making itself at home and searching for answers. “You said everything that happened today. What else happened?”