809 Beautiful Scars
As Jeff and Mia arrived home, the clock striking past midnight, the house was enveloped in a serene silence, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the wedding they had just left.
Mia lingered by the door, her thoughts swirling in her mind, unsure of how to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on her heart since she had told Jeff that they could talk about everything later.
"Goodnight, Mia," Jeff said softly, breaking the silence as he moved to head to his room.
Mia hesitated for a moment before stopping him. "Wait, Jeff. Can we talk?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jeff turned back, concern etched on his face. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine worry.
Mia nodded slowly. "I just... I think we should talk now," she said, her voice wavering slightly.
"We don't have to talk about it right now. It's past midnight...."
"I'd rather talk about it now and get it over with," Mia said and Jeff studied her for a moment before sighing resignedly.
Although he was exhausted and wished it could wait, he was also curious to hear what she had to say.
"Alright, give me a moment to get a glass of water," he said as he headed for the kitchen.
Mia took a deep breath as she watched him walk away, and she tried to organize all she had to say to him.
Deciding that she needed a glass of water too, Mia went after him, her heart pounding in her chest.
Jeff, who had poured some water into two glasses and had just finished drinking his, looked at her when she walked in and handed one of the glasses to her.
Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she took the glass from him, but Jeff noticed and said nothing as they both went to sit at the dining.
Jeff sat across from her, his expression calm and attentive as he watched her sip from her glass of water.
"What did you want to talk about?" Jeff asked, his voice gentle.
Mia took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I... I've been thinking a lot about what you said earlier, about how you don't need a reason to be supportive of me. And... I realize that I've been pushing you away despite all your attempts to show me that you care, and I don't want to do that anymore," she said, her voice filled with emotion.
The tremor in Mia's voice was barely a whisper, yet it crackled with raw honesty, slicing through the room like a fragile shard of glass. Each word she uttered was a confession, a tear in the carefully constructed facade she'd worn for so long.
"I've never had anyone... truly care," she choked out, the words catching in her throat like a sob. Her eyes, usually veiled with a practiced indifference, welled up, mirroring the storm brewing within.
"You've never gone home with any of those men? What about the occasions you didn't come back home?" He asked softly.
"How can you expect me to be intimate with anyone? You saw the hideous scars. What man in his right senses would desire me when they see those scars?" She asked as she pulled her hand away, retreating into herself.
Shame burned in her chest, a familiar heat that threatened to consume her, as she looked away from him, waiting for his reaction.
"Maybe that was the point of those scars. To make sure I'm never able to be with anyone else if ever I escaped. So, to answer your question, no. I didn't go home with anyone. I spent those nights at the club because I realized that the noise and music drowns out my fear."
The despair in her voice hung heavy in the air. Jeff saw the pain in her eyes, the fear of rejection, of being seen as broken, flawed. He knew then that he couldn't offer platitudes, empty promises. He needed to understand, to see her scars not as flaws, but as a testament to her strength, her resilience.
He reached for her hand again, this time meeting her gaze head-on. "Mia," he said, his voice firm yet gentle, "show me your scars."
Mia recoiled, a gasp escaping her lips. "No, you don't understand-"
"Please," he persisted, his eyes filled with an unwavering sincerity. "Let me see them, not as a burden, but as a part of you, a story you deserve to tell."
Mia shook her head. Even though Jeff had caught a glimpse of it earlier that day, the thought of letting him see it all filled her with horror.
"I don't think seeing your scars would change the way I see you or what I think about you. Your scars don't define you, Mia. They tell a part of your story, but they are not you. Let me see it," Jeff pressed.
Mia hesitated, her heart hammering against her ribs. But something in Jeff's gaze, a flicker of understanding, a hint of acceptance, gave her the courage to nod.
Slowly, she rose and turned her back to him, and Jeff rose as well to stand behind her.
She lifted her hair and Jeff reached for the zipper of her dress and she stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as Jeff undid her zip, exposing the hidden map of her past.
The silence that followed wasn't one of shock or pity, but of quiet respect.
"Can I touch them?" Jeff asked softly and Mia shut her eyes as she gave him a nod.
She knew that by doing this they were both crossing a line in their relationship. If she could reveal her scars to him and let him touch them, then there was no way she could keep anything else from him, since her scars were her biggest secrets.
Although Mia couldn't see Jeff's face, she felt the tenderness in his touch as he traced her scars with his finger.
Tears streamed down her face and she trembled as Jeff came to stand in front of her, his eyes filled with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher.
"They're beautiful," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "They tell a story of strength, of survival. And you, Mia, you are beautiful too, scars and all. And any man in his right senses would find you desirable in spite of your beautiful scars, of which I'm not an exception," Jeff said softly, as he brushed her tears away.
Although Jeff wanted to ask her about each of the scars and about how she ended up being married to such an animal, he knew that he would get those answers in time. For now, all he wanted was to offer comfort.