"Aunt Jasmines? You've brought me to Aunt Jasmines?" Gwen said trying really hard to sound surprised but in a good way. Instead, she felt quite the opposite. Perhaps she did. After all, when JT suggested taking off for a few days, she pictured the two of them alone. Why? She did not know. But she could hope, right? It had been a while since she had hit it off well with somebody, even with the awkward moments. Was it so awful for her to want for it not to end?

So instead of a quiet retreat that was more suited to her personality, he brought her to a restaurant. A place that was always teeming with people where someone like her would stand out like a sore thumb. Where a shy person, regardless of nationality, would feel overwhelmed and on edge. Men were extremely helpful, not.

JT got off the bike and locked it. He sensed her irritation. He was convinced beyond reasoning that he'd done the right thing. How would he convey the same to her though? JT stepped up to Gwen and brushed his fingers lightly over her bruised cheek and lips. Concern reflected in his eyes and voice as he spoke. "Aunt Jasmine runs a house for battered women. It's the only safe place I know."

"Battered women's shelter? I belong here?" Gwen asked incredulously. Okay, so she was damaged goods. She had to admit to that. However, she hadn't, not once, ever thought that she was that far gone. Everyone faced challenges, right? However, not everyone needed a glorified hideout. Why did he think that of her?

"You've been in an abusive relationship, and although you ran, you haven't escaped yet. Your past has followed you here. I'm only trying to help."

"But I don't want to be here. I don't need help. My head is screwed on just fine". Gwen huffed like a petulant child.

"I'm not asking that you seek help, or implying that you need it. I only brought you to a place where people will understand and not ask questions. Would you want to answer questions about these?" By then JT's fingers had brushed over every bruise Tom had given her, from her cheek to her lip, the faint handprint on her neck, the glaring colors on her arms and finally the scratches on her wrists. She brushed his hand away. "Those I got when I fell." This wasn't usual behavior for her. Gwen didn't understand why she was acting out so much. Regardless, the disappointment kept gnawing at her. And her foolishness wouldn't let her find a graceful exit. Must have been the combination of sun, beer, and Tom, she figured.

Make up your mind, Gwen yelled at JT inside her head. He was confusing her. You don't go around touching people you aren't attracted to. And you certainly don't dump people and make them someone else's responsibility when you are attracted to them. Did he want her? Did he not want her? She couldn't tell anymore! She was on the verge of feeling abandoned again.

Yeah right, dream on girl, she scoffed at herself. He's being nice, and you're reading too much into it. That's all there is to this. You set yourself up for disappointment. You have no one else to blame but yourself. Quit being mad at him, a little nagging voice chirped inside her head. Oh, how she could have strangled it.

Gwen pulled at her collar to cover up. JT sighed as his hand fell to his side. He tried again. "They'll care for you because they can relate better. I have no experience with these things. There's also safety in numbers and of course, security who will deal with the likes of Tom. At least he can't stalk you here. I'm not asking you to enroll like it's a program. It's just for a few days. Till I can take off work again and your house is all sorted, and all issues are fixed."

"So you're leaving me here? Alone?" Now Gwen was terrified. She knew nobody, and he was just going to leave her here? He was abandoning her! How could he be so blind to her predicament? At her own house, sure she had Tom to deal with. But at least she was independent. And sure, she was alone, but she wasn't lonely. She wasn't depending on a bunch of other women. Did they even speak English? What was she going to do in a house surrounded by non-English speaking people? She would go out of her mind! This was the equivalent of looking for tea in a coffee shop. Could she have felt more out of place? Not likely.

"You know I can't be around forever."

When she didn't respond, he quickly added. "I can't be around all the time. My line of work makes that impossible. What if I hadn't been there today? I worry about you. At least now I can be certain that you are safe."

Gwen was hurt and embarrassed and took it out on JT. "Like you being at my house made a difference. He still showed up, didn't he? It seems like Tom has guts which you sorely lack!" With that, she turned around and stalked towards the door and a smiling Aunt Jasmine.

Plastering on a smile, she took Aunt Jasmine's hands and shook them appreciatively. She was mad at JT, sure. Despite her bad mood, Gwen could not be upset with this woman, a person whom she barely said hello to once. She was now welcoming Gwen into her home and helping her. She mumbled her thanks awkwardly and waited for JT to take the lead. Never again, Gwen swore to herself as she watched JT speak in a language she didn't understand. She wondered what he was saying to Aunt Jasmine and found it rather rude that he chose to talk about her in a different language. Gwen avoided Aunt Jasmine's sympathetic smile and continued the rant in her head, no more depending on men for anything! She was going to take a more proactive role in how her life turned out. She was done being in the passenger seat.

The rest of the morning dragged by slowly. The first half, Aunt Jasmine couldn't leave the restaurant. Gwen sat in the inner room, hidden from the general public. She spent her time reading and listening to her music. She pretended not to hear JT when he came to say goodbye. Gwen was still upset with him, and JT was going to get the silent treatment from here on forward. When Aunt Jasmine could leave, she took Gwen to the shelter and the rest of the afternoon passed by in introductions and tours.

The house was inconspicuous. It rested amongst several others in a neat row on the opposite side of the road that ran parallel with the cliff. The house was dilapidated looking from the outside. Gwen guessed it hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in probably a decade. There was no lawn either in the front nor at the back. Women strolled up and down the road or took turns sharing the single bench that looked out over the mountains. There were no trees, no bushes, and no shrubbery of any kind. Four men in navy blue guard uniforms strolled the outskirts of the fenced in property. Their presence gave her a modicum sense of security. Gwen kicked the consolation aside and continued to curse JT.

The inside was hugely different from the outside. The building shrieked home to its visitors. It was warm and comfortable. Well furnished, even if the walls were bare and the paint was peeling. Half of what Aunt Jasmine said to Gwen sounded like bungled up English. She had to strain hard to hear the woman and then spend a minute piecing together the broken sentences to come to some understanding of what she was being told. The windows had pretty curtains, which Aunt Jasmine explained were hand woven by the women that lived here. So were the table covers, couch covers, carpets and the knitwear the women were sporting. They were in gaudy clashing colors, like bright purple and black, or orange and blue or lemony green with bright pink. But they were beautiful nonetheless. The skill that had gone into making these impressed Gwen.

Listening carefully to Aunt Jasmine, she understood, or so she thought, that these women were trained in such handiwork right here at the shelter. And that they depended on sales to keep the shelter afloat. Some months were better than others. But such was the way of life here.

All kinds of women lived at the shelter. Some were waif-like, some the complete opposite. Some too young to be here. And some too old. Some were quiet and some outright loud. Some dispirited and some very optimistic. Their abusers were equally diverse, as Gwen understood from their stories. Some were beaten by husbands, others by fathers and even brothers, sons and uncles. It was shocking to hear that some abusers were women whether it was a mother in law or even a daughter! Some of these women had been ostracized by their entire village for not conforming! A whole community ganging up against one woman. Gwen couldn't even begin to imagine what that felt like. The perception she grew up with was that the weak, helpless and easily preyed upon segments of society were supported by their communities. Here, it seemed to not be the case.

As the day came to a close, Gwen was no longer wallowing in self-pity. If she thought her life was terrible, she was wrong. So very wrong. Gwen now felt as though she had sailed through life with relative ease when compared to some of the experiences these women shared with her. Some spoke very little English, and others didn't at all. Aunt Jasmine tried her level best to interpret. Despite the language barrier, Gwen's heart melted for these women. What she couldn't understand, she could pretty much imagine. 

For a moment there, Gwen found herself thanking JT for bringing her here. For the first time in a long time, Gwen was looking beyond herself. And she was ashamed for her selfishness all this while. And she would have thanked JT for it, had she not been mad at him. Yes, she was still sore about her ridiculous fantasy and with JT for leaving her here by herself.

As she struggled to get comfortable in her bed at night, Gwen thought over her situation. She thought about the women. Gwen said a silent thank you to Aunt Jasmine for affording her a private room while as many as six to eight women shared a single room across from hers. At least she had an escape when she needed it. And right now Gwen needed peace to mull over her day and all that she had heard, learned and experienced.