I wiped my brow after setting down the last cardboard box on the kitchen floor. My legs felt like jello from the hundreds of squats I must have completed as I moved the boxes into my second story apartment. If my arms were any indication, I knew my calves would be on fire the next morning.

Staggering to the refrigerator, I swung open the stainless steel door and grabbed my water bottle. Not betting that I could take another step, I slumped against the stacked bins. As I sipped on the lemon water, I began feeling refreshed but not enough to start to unpack anything. That was tomorrow's chore.

With renewed energy, I hauled myself up and dodged the littered boxes and bins to finally collapse on my couch. A nap was in order and well deserved. With a huge yawn, I placed my drink on the cork coaster and flipped to my side.

Three perky knocks pounded on my door just as my eyelids closed. Grunting, I snuggled deeper into the couch, praying that whoever it was would take the hint and leave since no response was reciprocated. Stubborn they were, however.

Groaning, I pushed myself off the cushions and toddled to the door. Unfastening the gold chain, I pulled open the wooden door. "I'm not interested in whatever you're selling," I greeted.

"Oh, I'm not selling anything. Actually, I came by to say hi. I've never had a tenant live above me," the beach boy said.

I eyed him in shock, half skeptical of his cheery attitude. Keeping a firm grip on the round doorknob, ready to slam it in his face at a moment's notice lest he planned to attack me, I nodded once.

His pleasant demeanor made him oblivious to my wariness unless he was pretending not to notice. "I'm Paul, by the way." Blondie stuck out his hand.

I did not realize I laughed out loud until his boyish smile disappeared. Immediately, I felt guilty and stopped. "Sorry, I wasn't laughing at you."

He quirked his eyebrow as if saying, 'You're either lying or you're mental.'

Swallowing, I let my hand fall from the knob and pushed my door open a little more, at least trying to look less hostile. "I mean, I wasn't trying to make fun of you or make you uncomfortable." Well, honey, too late for that, my brain quipped.

"I was, well, I um." I was stuttering, that was exactly what I was doing. My cheeks flushed and I shot out my hand, willing him to not think that he had a new wacko neighbor. "I'm Paula," I said. I felt like a deflated balloon from complete humiliation. "Sorry."

He took my hand and chuckled too. "It's okay, I know why you did now."

"Um, you wanna come in?" I asked, flattening against the door.

"Sure." Paul walked inside. "Do you want me to take my shoes off?"

"No, it's fine. I'll probably be doing a major clean after I get everything unpacked anyway." Shutting the door, I locked only the knob, should I need to flee. "Would you like a drink? I have lemon water and iced tea."

"Iced tea would be great." That boyish smile that made my knees weak lifted his face.

"Careful of the boxes, they're kinda stashed everywhere." I delivered him his cup.

"It's fine." He took a swig and let me lead him into the living room. "So, um, how do you like the area so far?"

"I haven't gotten a chance to explore yet."

"Well, you definitely should!" He sipped the cup dry.

"Do you want any more?" I went to get up.

"No thanks, but it's incredible!"

"My mom's recipe." I brushed back a stray strand of hair.

"Compliments to the chef then!"

I did not have the heart to tell him that my mother had been six feet under for years. "Yeah," I replied. "So, how long have you lived here?"

"Rounding up four years now. I finished getting my BA."

"What's your major?" I folded my hands in my lap.

"Photography and digital arts."

"That's pretty neat!" I smiled.

I felt my defensive walls ease as we continued to talk. We both shared a love for natural beauty. Whereas I favored the whimsical breeze from the beach, his solace was deep in the forest. Occasionally, he managed to snag stills of the wildlife he happened to cross.

He worked for a small environmental business in upstate Virginia but was hoping to someday work for National Geographic. Based on his work, some of which he shared from his phone, I had a feeling his dream could come true.

I shared that I transferred from a college up in New Jersey, to East Carolina University on a sports scholarship. Essentially, I had sold my soul to the school swimming team, but it was worth it, I guess.

The time flew fast and it was edging on half past nine by the time we decided that we should turn in for the night. However, I was promised a tour of the area's best sites when I was finally settled and simultaneously managed to wiggle in a free weekend.

Paul left and a weight of loneliness dropped my mood and amped up my restlessness. It had been a while since I had someone who seemed to give a damn about me, at least put forward a friendly face. Lord knows the summer was wasted on loving a crappy person. Pent-up hurt boiled in me. I hope that bastard is happy - probably is.

Dragging my feet to my bedroom, I weaved through the obstacle course. Without incident, I flopped onto my duvet and stared at the ceiling.

Paul shoved into my mind. He was charming, handsome but kind of dorky in a cute way. Far from anti-social, but not dramatic and theatrical either, he made for a great tenant. He was not a partier, that much I could tell from how often he took road trips. Rather, he seemed more independent and reserved. I liked him, not that way, just as a friend.

Heat rose to my cheeks. Of course, I would not oppose liking him as more than a friend after getting to know each other a bit more. I certainly had a physical attraction to him. Maybe. Just maybe.

Months went by and the semester was drawing to a close. Since I had no one to see for the holidays, I was parking my butt here. Over takeout at Bojangles, Paul invited me to celebrate the festive holiday at his parent's house, probably out of some sort of compassion or pity. Of course, I was uneasy of accepting, fearing that I would not only intrude but my presence would be awkward as Christmas was a family holiday.

He off and on pestered me for a week, downright insisting that I should go, let my hair down for the winter break. Finally, I broke and promised that I would tag along on the condition that I pay for gas and any other expenses as we traveled the seven and a half hour trip to Jacksonville, Florida.

I hated admitting I was wrong about anything, but I was completely mistaken about feeling out of place with his folks. Moreover, I was more than fine to admit that. For once, after years of lonely holiday nights cuddled in blankets watching kiddy Christmas specials, I felt belonged, wanted, embraced without needing to earn it.

The holiday seemed to have come and gone in a snap, and I was back in school studying my butt off before I knew it. While attending the insane swim meet schedules, I managed to wiggle in time to spend with Paul and his friends, who soon became mine, too.

Winter wrapped up and spring was flourishing around us. I had been noticing that Paul was acting a bit shier than normal. His hands fidgeted in his lap when we talked and he stuttered if he couldn't find his words. It was after we saw a movie in the theaters that he could barely look at me without his cheeks burning a soft pink blush.

He parked us in the lot of Bojangles before he spilled his beans. At the end of his friendship speech, he popped the question: would you go out with me?

I wanted to say yes. Everything inside of me craved, downright yearned to be his girl, but I was so scared, scared shitless. Memories of my last failed relationship winded me in the gut. I shuddered internally. Forcing myself to not slip into my darkest, most painful secrets, I stared at Paul, uncertain what my face read. As I stalled, covered by his rambling about how long we'd known each other, I tried, plead for myself to let go of the past.

But, I couldn't. I just couldn't.

"Paul, I-I." Guilt drowned me when I saw his eyes drop to his lap. He knew that my words would string together a version of rejection.

"It's okay." He stopped me, licking his bottom lip before gripping the steering wheel.

As if approaching a frightened dog, I slowly placed my hand on his bicep. "Paul, please, hear me out," I whispered. I couldn't bear to see the pain in his eyes, so I averted mine before he turned his head.

"Yeah?" His voice was quiet, flighty, disguising some of his hurt.

"You-you at least should know why." I swallowed, uncertain if I was really ready to open the can of worms that had been sealed to the world. With a deep breath and a minute of silence, I pulled off the tab to the can.

"It was a summer fling, a stupid freshman in college thing." I swallowed and my mouth was suddenly as dry as a plank. "My ex-boyfriend, whatever we were, used to" -- My fingers danced with the safety belt -- "he used to hit me." Whoosh. Wow, the elephant on my back slid off, straddling now my shoulders and his.

Glancing up, Paul had a deer in headlights look on his face.

"At first, he was a gentleman, treating me like I was a princess. It wasn't until later on that he started becoming jealous and possessive. I was naive, I guess, and thought his behavior was just protective."

I held onto the polyester for dear life. "He was charming and manipulative, and, like a fool, I lapped up every excuse. Eventually, I stopped seeing my friends. They didn't approve of my boyfriend and said that I should stop seeing him. Every day of my life, until I met you, I wished I had listened to them."

Paul shifted in his seat, unclipping his belt to face me.

"Of course, I didn't listen. I burned a lot of bridges deciding to stick it out with him. One day he slapped me for 'flirting' with another guy." I made air quotes. "He apologized straight away, saying that he jumped to conclusions." I believed him and my second chance evolved into a third and a forth and more and more."

"Paula, I'm so-" Paul began.

"Please, I need to finish. I don't think I'll ever be able to if I stop."

Nodding, Paul shut his mouth and squeezed my hand.

"It was small stuff at first, but then it was almost like me breathing seemed to trigger a beating. He knew where to hit to keep my bruises hidden." I smiled ruefully. "All I wanted to do was just get through a day without a boot landing on my ribs."

Staring out, past the dashboard, I collected an unsteady breath. "The day he sent me to the hospital was the last straw."

"What did that asshole do?" I flinched, my eyes darting to Paul's. Never in the eight months I had known him did he ever have the if looks could kill glare.

I averted my stare onto my lap. Pausing, I collected my words. "He beat me with his belt," I said. "He thought I was cheating on him when he found my birth control stuff hidden in the bathroom. I hadn't told him I was on the pill." Shaking my head, I buried my hands in my hair.

"I have never felt anything more physically excruciating than that in my entire life," I revealed. After a beat, I continued. "Forty-six times. One lash for each letter of our full names." I sucked on my lips, a tear rolled down my cheek as my mind revisited my flanked back. Chills shot up my spine, remembering the pain like it was yesterday.

The look on Paul's face was unadulterated horror. The anger in his eyes vanished, replaced by sheer shock.

"I passed out around thirty-something and was in and out for the rest of the beating. I woke up alone in the hospital the next day. They treated me, but I was so scared and didn't want to file charges if it meant seeing him again." I rubbed my temples. "He was a free man while I felt like I was suffocating from my nightmares. I transferred my studies over here because I knew I wouldn't focus. I was already losing enough sleep worrying about having to see him around campus."

Silence drummed in the car. It was so quiet it was loud.

"D-Did you ever tell anyone?" Paul asked.

I shook my head. "All my family is dead or distant. I lost my friends before the abuse really began."

"Then they weren't good friends," his voice was laced with frustration and anger again.

"They warned me, and I only pushed them away. I deserved that-losing them, I suppose."

Shaking his head, he took my hands in his. "True friends stick with you through thick and thin," he countered. "I'm so sorry you went through all of this alone. I wish I could have helped you. I wish I'd known."

The corner of my lip curled up. "Well, you have been." I smiled with my eyes when he cocked his head. "I learned to trust again, that friendly people, like you and your family existed. I mean I knew they did, but life seemed so hell-bent to throw me the meanest people it could give me." I chuckled.

He waited a beat. "Paula, thanks for telling me all of this. I completely understand where you're coming from. It's okay if we just stay friends, but-but could we try first, take it slow at least?"

I tossed the options in my head, feeling so much lighter and free. "Yes."

Paul leaned over the console and pressed his lips against mine. "I'll always be there for you."

I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck. "For better or worse?"

"Yes. Until death do us part," he added.

We shared a chuckle and I led the next kiss, feeling like I was soaring.