The Scars She Hides

Part 27 - Breakfast with Bronson

CHARLOTTE

For the first time in a long time, I woke slowly. Quietly.

I could feel a warm spot traveling slowly up my cheek, and when it finally reached my eyes, I squinted to find the sun leaking in through the window and onto the couch I was draped across.

I snuggled deeper into the blanket, burying my face into the squishy pillow under my chin. It took a moment for my slow brain to buffer, finally realizing that this was not my blanket, and this was definitely not my pillow.

I bolted upwards, wildly taking in Holden's family's living room in disbelief. The sun was just rising, meaning that it was early enough that no one was awake yet. Including the softly snoring Holden sprawled on the loveseat across from me. The fuzzy black blanket wrapped around him did little to hide his long limbs that hung off of the two seater in awkward and uncomfortable looking angles.

I thought back to last night, trying to remember when I had fallen asleep. Everything was so fuzzy. I had planned to eat dinner and wait until everyone had fallen asleep to call an uber back to campus, but I sat down for a moment and just ... fell asleep.

This was the third time I had fallen asleep without meaning to with nothing to protect me. My breaths grew faster as I looked at the doors and windows of this unfamiliar home. All the rooms and doors I didn't know. Were the doors locked last night? Did they lock and cover the windows? Anyone could have gotten me here in the living room. Anyone could have come in and gotten to me, I was all alone and -

My eyes fell to Holden again. A too large boy sleeping on a couch far too small for him, when he had a perfectly good bed down the hallway.

Not all alone.

Before I could consider my plan for escaping Holden's house without having to wake him up, I heard a bedroom door close quietly down the hallway, and heavy steps slowly make their way towards us. From my spot on the couch I could see Bronson rubbing the last of sleep from his face as he emerged from his bedroom wearing a crisp police uniform.

He froze in the entryway to the living room upon seeing me awake and staring. His eyes drifted to Holden who was still passed out on the couch and scoffed lightly.

"He won't be waking anytime soon. I can tell ya' that." He grumbled amusedly, making his way into the kitchen. He fiddled with the coffee machine for a few moments before the sounds of heaven reached my ears. Gurgling water and coffee beans being ground.

Noticing my attention he tilted head towards the pot. "I could spare a cup if you want, but you'd better drink it fast, Holden will dump the pot once he wakes up." Bronson narrowed his eyes at his adopted son. "Says it's bad for my heart."

I weighed my options. Caffeine and an awkward and stressful morning conversation with Holden's father... or no caffeine and an awkward and stressful forced silence between me and Holden's father.I studied Bronson as he puttered around the kitchen, making himself breakfast quietly.

My failed attempt to push my own boundaries this last week had weighed on me heavily. I hadn't made it back to that coffee shop yet. I probably never would to be honest. Taht was enough embarrassment to last a lifetime. I thought about my reasoning. I didn't need to push myself to talk to and interact with men I didn't know. In hindsight the coffee shop thing was a bad idea. Too many changed variables at once. Unknown men, large crowd, loud environment.

If I could start small. Try exposure therapy in small and calculated doses. With someone I could presumably trust.

Holden's words from last week echoed in my head. He is a good man, a good father.