Tempting Nora

by Evanston, A. M.

  "No, don't let go of me," Gideon said.

  He grabbed her hand and held on tight.

  In that moment, something changed between them. She wasn't sure what, but she knew from that moment on her life would never, ever be the same.

  ****

  After Nora was finished eating dinner, she let out a sigh. She was full to the bursting, but that was to be expected after having three slices of pizza. But her stomach wasn't the only thing that was full. She discovered her heart was full too, something she'd never experienced before. Heck, the sensation was so new that she wasn't sure what it meant.

  Because of her newfound feelings, she found herself staring at Gideon, wondering what was going on in his mind. Unfortunately, his face didn't reveal much. His gaze was speculative but nothing more. She sighed.

  "You ready to go?" Gideon asked when he saw her staring.

  "Sure." She nodded.

  She climbed out of the booth and noticed that the waiter was staring. Why does he keep looking at me like that? Gideon paid the bill and gave him a tip. She turned away, wondering whether she had food on her face. After all, she'd never been the most graceful eater.

  When Gideon jumped to his feet, he too noted the waiter's gaze. A possessive scowl crossed his face as he wrapped an arm around her. She considered pushing him away, but her heart still felt warm because of the words Gideon had said to her. That was why, even though nerves made her stomach flop, she couldn't bring herself to wriggle out of Gideon's grip.

  After they walked to the exit, he opened the door for her. She tried hard to ignore the disbelieving stares and the jealous scowls of the female diners as she headed outside. Once they were on the sidewalk, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again and his warmth seeped through her sweater all the way to her skin.

  "Are you cold?" Gideon asked.

  Even though a chilly Chicago wind blew through the trees, she wasn't the slightest bit cold. She shook her head.

  "Nah." She grinned and walked down the sidewalk at his side. "For once, I'm good."

  The fact she was content was surprising. Normally, she never stopped shivering.

  "Let me know if you're uncomfortable," he said. "I'll give you my coat."

  She stared at him. She couldn't help herself.

  "What?" Gideon raised an eyebrow.

  "Why is it that you never stop surprising me?" she asked. "I can't figure you out."

  "Do you want to figure me out?" His eyes twinkled playfully.

  "Of course I do. You're like a puzzle," she said. "It drives me crazy that I can't put all of the pieces together."

  "Maybe you shouldn't put all of the pieces together." Some of the mirth disappeared from his eyes. "Maybe if you do, you'll realize that I'm not who you think I am."

  "Not who I think you are?" She frowned at him.

  "I'm a bad guy, Nora," he said quietly.

  The words struck her as odd.

  "What makes you say that?" she asked.

  He didn't say anything.

  "Is it because of all the women you've been with?" She didn't think he was the type to feel guilty.

  "No, it's not because of that," he said. "Enough about me. Didn't you have something you wanted to talk about?"

  "You just told me that you're a bad guy," she teased, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted due to her nervousness. "Maybe I'm having second thoughts about confiding in you."

  "Nora." He gave an exasperated sigh.

  "Okay, okay." Right now wasn't the best time for banter anyway. "About last night…I'm sorry that I freaked out on you again. It wasn't right. That's why I decided I'm ready to answer all of your questions about my mom, no matter what that means."

  The two of them arrived at a shady park. A single bench faced an empty playground. Gideon led her over to it and sat down.

  "Are you sure you want to talk about your mom?" He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

  "I don't want to talk about her, but I need to talk about her." She stared up at the overcast sky. "I've spent the last twenty years being afraid of my memories. When I was with my mom, I always felt so weak, so defenseless. That's why I'm scared that if I talk about her, then I'll become the same scared little girl all over again. But the truth is that I can't be strong unless I overcome this aversion to my past. Don't you see? I need to talk about my mom just to prove that I'm strong enough to do it."

  Waves of black feathers appeared out of nowhere and were swept away by the wind. She was too immersed in the conversation to care.

  "Some people take much longer than you to face their past." Gideon's jaw clenched. "Some people never face it."

  "Unless you face the past, then you can never move on." She stared into Gideon's caramel eyes.

  "That's true." Gideon nodded.

  For a moment neither of them said anything. Nora bit her bottom lip, ignoring the burning in her throat.

  "Do you really not hate her?" Gideon finally asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

  "No, I don't." She shivered, but not from the cold. "I feel sad that I was never good enough, but I don't hate her."

  "Not everyone would be so kind." A vein throbbed in his jaw.

  "Well, my mom and I had our good times too, you know." She cast an uncertain glance at him. "Every time I'm filled with resentment, I think of how nice she could be."

  "Really?" Gideon studied her face with such intensity it made her nervous.

  "Yeah." She stared down at her hands because she was afraid she'd lose control of her emotions if she maintained eye contact. "There were days when she would scream at me and lock me in the closet. Then there were other times. Better times. We never had much money after the bills were paid, so she would take me to the beach during the summer because it was free. She would always pretend to drown, so I had to go save her. After we swam until we were exhausted, she'd take me to the dollar store and we'd eat candy bars until my stomach ached."

  A tear escaped her eye, even though she tried to stop it. Still Gideon didn't move. Maybe he was afraid that if he did, then she might stop talking.

  "Unfortunately, my mom's bad days started to come more and more frequently as I aged." She wrung her hands. "I always thought I deserved what she was doing to me. There are still times that I feel guiltily, even though I know the truth about her."

  "The truth?" Gideon sounded shaky as if he was having a hard time controlling his emotions.

  "My mom was mentally ill. I didn't know it when I was eight, but I figured it out when I got older. The true reason why I can't hate her—why I pity her—is because of that." A tremor tore through her body. "Deep down, I don't think she ever meant to hurt me. At least, I'd like to think that she didn't. I believe that whatever was making her sick turned her into a monster. Maybe it's no excuse for how she acted, but sometimes even now I wonder if she's okay. I'll never look for her, but I hope she found happiness. I know it's crazy, but…I want the best for her."

  At long last, she stared into Gideon's eyes again. The man appeared wounded.

  "Are you okay?" Shakily, she pressed her hand against his cheek. He looked so distressed that she couldn't help herself.

  "You're asking me if I'm okay?" Gideon asked.

  "You look…" Haunted. You look haunted.

  He didn't say anything. For some reason, the silence made it harder for her to stifle her tears. As she stared straight ahead, thinking about her mom and Gideon and everything else, her bottom lip trembled. That was the last straw for him. After giving a pained groan, he pulled her into an embrace so tight it chased the air from her lungs. She hadn't realized how badly she needed his arms around her until that moment. She burrowed her face into his shoulder and smelled his sweet scent. Despite how hard she tried to keep her emotions at bay, a sob tore through her before she could stop it. She cried so hard her whole body hurt. The entire time she wept, Gideon rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back. He kept whispering things in her ear, but she was too far gone to make out what he was saying.
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  As she was overwhelmed by melancholy, she cried for herself because of the pain of being abandoned, but that wasn't all. She cried for her mom too. How awful had it been for the woman to lose control of her own emotions and thoughts? In this world, the person Nora trusted the most was herself. She couldn't imagine how painful it would be to not trust her own mind.

  Finally, as the sharp pain in her heart faded to a dull ache, her sobs became soft whimpers. Soon after that, she made no sound at all. As Gideon continued to hold her so tight her body ached, she sighed as her form molded against his. During that moment, she realized that while her eyes were sore and her nose throbbed, she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. The weight had been there for so long that she hadn't realized it was present, but now that it was gone, there was a notable difference.

  She breathed a sigh, burrowing her fingers into Gideon's collar.

  "Gideon," she said.

  "Uh-huh." His voice was soft and gentle.

  "Thank you," she said.

  His response was a kiss to her ear. She couldn't believe how safe she felt pressed against his chest, even though she'd spent ages keeping him at arm's length. She realized that Gideon had a way of sneaking around all of her self-maintained barriers, but instead of hurting the already bruised parts of her soul, he healed them.

  She was glad she'd given him her trust.

  "Gideon," she said again.

  "Mmm-hmm." His face was in her hair as his arms tightened around her.

  "Tell me about you." She wanted to learn something about this mysterious man who was both cad and confidant. "Anything you want."

  At first Gideon didn't speak. Her stomach sunk when she realized he might not trust her as much as she did him.

  Finally, after a brief pause, he said, "You know how I said I'm a bad guy?"

  "Yeah." She went still.

  "Well, I wasn't always like that." He sighed. "I used to be pure and kind."

  "You're still kind." Why else would he hold her like this?

  "Not anymore." He let out a mirthless chuckle. She realized he did that a lot when he felt bitter. "But years and years ago, I was. I didn't use women and I lived entirely for helping others."

  "What happened?" She had a feeling she was about to learn a huge secret.

  "It's a long story." Gideon sighed. "I used to be a guardian."

  "You mean like a bodyguard?" It was easy to imagine him doing such a job.

  "Yeah, like a bodyguard," he said.

  "Wow," she said.

  "I loved my job. I lived for the people I protected." His body became rigid, even as he remained molded to her. "One day, I was ordered to look after a wealthy woman and her three children. The kids were amazing—smart, beautiful, loving. But their mother…She was spiteful and mean. She beat the kids constantly as I was forced to watch."

  "Oh no." She tried to pull back to look at his face, but he held her so tight she couldn't.

  "I tried to protect those kids. I would have done anything in my power to save them from her." His voice dripped with pain. "Unfortunately, nothing I did worked. For the first time in my entire life, I felt hatred. I loathed that woman who hurt her children. It was a new and startling emotion."

  "Anyone would feel that way." Since she couldn't see his face, she comforted him by tightening her arms around his rigid body. "It wasn't your fault."

  "Whether or not it was my fault, I felt powerless." He let out a mournful groan. "The longer I remained in the situation, the stronger the negative feelings became. That was when I did something terrible."

  She wondered what he could have done that made him so tense. The man didn't weep or shiver, but she could feel stress billowing off of him.

  "What happened?" she whispered, not knowing what to think.

  "A few years after I was sent to protect that family, there was an earthquake. I remember the earth shaking and the children screaming." Gideon's voice was so soft she could barely hear it. "I knew the kids were safe, but their mother wasn't. I searched for her, thinking that I would try to bring her to safety. I found the woman standing in her bedroom."

  "Oh, Gideon…." She shook her head. At least, she tried to. It was hard to move when she was pinned against his chest.

  "As the earth quaked, cracks formed in the ceiling. I knew that there was going to be a cave-in. During that moment, I remember thinking, 'I should save her. It's my job.' I knew it wasn't her time to die." His voice broke and it took him a moment to regain his composure. "But I didn't save her. I watched the ceiling crumble and felt glad—glad, Nora—when she was buried alive."

  "You can't possibly blame yourself for that," she cried. "You hesitated to save her because she was a woman you hated. That's all."

  "No, that's not all. It was my job to save her. I was never meant to feel anger or hatred. I was supposed to feel only love. But something went wrong." He shook his head. "No being on this earth should feel happy because of the death of someone, but I did."

  "But if you'd tried to save her, you might have died yourself." She tried desperately to ease his guilt.

  "I wouldn't have died," he said.

  "You might have." How could he be so certain he would have lived?

  "I wouldn't have," he repeated. "Take my word for it. The only one who was at risk of losing their life that day was her and she did."

  She wasn't sure what else to say. Half of what was coming out of Gideon's mouth sounded crazy. How could he blame himself for the death of the woman? Even she would have hesitated to save her in a situation like that. Also, he shouldn't have been so certain that the earthquake wouldn't have killed him too. People died in natural disasters all the time. It sounded like Gideon suffered from some serious PTSD. After all, it was obvious that the death of this woman still haunted him every moment.

  And somehow that made her even sadder than anything her mom had ever done.

  Even as she longed to say the right thing, all that came out of her mouth was, "I'm so sorry, Gideon."

  "Don't be sorry," he said. "It's not your fault."

  It's not your fault either.

  "How long ago did this happen?" She wondered how many years this man had suffered.

  The words made Gideon give yet another mirthless laugh.

  "Too long ago," he said. "Yet I'm still paying for it. My actions that night destroyed everything."

  "Everything?" She pressed herself against him so hard that her chest ached.

  "I lost the job that I lived for. I'll never again be able to guard people the way I once did. I can't blame anyone for that. My mission was to protect that woman and I failed." Gideon's jaw tensed. "On top of that, I was never the same after that night. I doubt everything now, including myself. I especially can't figure out why that woman was allowed to abuse her children when it would have been so easy for God to stop it."

  Does he blame God for what happened? she wondered.

  "Well…" She hesitated.

  "What?" he asked.

  "I don't know if I should say it," she said.

  "Go ahead." His voice was gruff.

  "When I was still in the orphanage, I used to be angry a lot too. I wondered why God would let me suffer when normal kids had families that loved them. Then one day I met this boy named Martin. He'd been abused by his dad, but he was cheerful anyway." She sighed, remembering the scrawny, brown-haired boy. "To be honest, he was so optimistic that it was, well, annoying. One day I sat next to him in the cafeteria and asked him why he was so darn nice all the time. Do you want to know what he said?"

  "What's that?" Gideon asked.

  "He said that every person is born with a heart in one hand and a weapon in the other. He told me he would rather use the heart than the weapon," she said. "At the time, I was fifteen years old and thought he was a weirdo. Then one night I lay in bed and really contemplated what he meant. That was when I understood it. Love is a choice. If God made it so we automatically loved everyone we met, then that wouldn't be free
will, would it? No, we have to choose to love others, even when it's hard. And unfortunately, a lot of people choose not to love."

  Gideon didn't say anything, so she continued.

  "That woman hurt her children despite of God and not because of him. She was using the hand with the weapon and not the heart," she said. "God never, ever would have wanted those children to be abused. Yet at the same time, I imagine he felt the same way about that woman as I do about my mom—he must have pitied and loved her. So that's why I don't think you should be angry at God for what happened. That woman chose to do the wrong thing. You weren't to blame for that and neither was God. She was the one who made the wrong choice."

  Another gust of wind blew, showering the grass with even more black feathers.

  "Where on earth are those feathers coming from?" She twisted around in Gideon's grip, trying to see a bird.

  Finally, Gideon released her, even though he didn't say anything. When she stared into his eyes, she saw that his expression was laced with confusion.

  "Are you okay?" she asked yet again.

  "Yes." He nodded. "What about you?"

  She contemplated the question for a moment. Even though her eyes were sore from weeping and her heart ached, she realized that she was.

  "Yeah." She nodded.

  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

  Finally, she said, "Thank you for staying with me."

  "And thank you for opening up to me." He nodded.

  As the two of them remained side by side, she felt as though her once dark world was being shrouded with light.

  ****

  An hour later, Nora walked with Gideon up to her apartment. As she paused at the door, she stared into the other man's face. His dark hair hung in his eyes and he was grinning again. Still, despite the fact he wore his usual expression, something was different between them. A strange, magnetic pull drew them together, making her heart leap frantically. She realized at that moment that she had not only opened herself up to him, but she had given him a piece of her heart as well. In return, Gideon had told her what she believed was his darkest secret. That meant that the two of them, for better or for worse, would always be bonded. While the thought of trusting him so much made her nervous, she realized that she didn't regret what had happened between them. She just hoped that Gideon wouldn't betray her trust.