Tuesday July 7th
1pm Linville, NC

"You've got to be shitting me. There's no way I'm going on that thing!" I called out to Sean. After the night in DC, he seemed to be feeling a little better. The following day, he took the time to show me exciting things like The Ford Theater where Lincoln was shot, The White House, and the National Monument. I've always heard about these places, but I never thought I would get to see them.

After having lunch, we drove until we got to Roanoke, VA to spend the night. This morning, we got up and drove to Linville, NC, where I was currently standing on one side of The Mile-High Swinging Bridge at Grandfather Mountain.

"Lydia, I just crossed it. It's completely safe!" he called back to me from the other side.

As a sign of protest, I crossed my arms over my chest and didn't move an inch. I knew he was frustrated as he mumbled under his breath while crossing the bridge back in my direction. After a few minutes, he was in front of me.

He pointed to the bridge behind him. "I just crossed it. Twice."

I shook my head. "With my luck, that thing is going to snap."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "What if I help you across? Here," he held his hands out to me, "take my hands."

I glared at him, but did as instructed. As his hands gripped mine, our eyes locked.

"Alright, don't let go and don't look down. Just keep looking at me."

We started to cross the bridge and I couldn't help but squeeze his hands when it shook beneath my feet. Don't look down, Lydia. Don't look down...

"What hobbies do you like?"

"What?" He was so random sometimes.

"Your hobbies. I know you like to read, but what else?"

I realized he was trying to distract me. "Um, I like comedy movies."

"What else?"

I shrugged a little. "It's silly." Whenever I spoke about my dreams to my family, they treated me like an outcast.

"Tell me," he urged. 

"Well, I've always wanted to be a painter."

He raised his brows. "Really? That's not silly at all. Why do you say that?"

I gave him a look; one he grew familiar with over the past few days. It was the look that meant he was asking too much. 

"Look if you can paint, that's such an amazing gift. You're a creative person, Lydia, I already know that. The thought of creating a picture from nothing? Just with paint and a brush is fucking impressive."

"Really?" 

He smirked at me. "Really. Oh, and guess what?"

"What?"

His smirk turned into a satisfied grin. "You made it across the bridge!"

It was only now I noticed that he was right. We were on the other side of the bridge.

"Nice distraction," I said with an impish smile.

"Come on," he laughed, "there's more I want to show you."

We continued our hiking expedition and I enjoyed the wildlife exhibits. I stared in amazement as I saw black bears, bald eagles, river otters and elk.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Sean asked as we watched the otters swimming.

"Yes. I've always loved otters. 'Little woodsmen of the forest' I've always called them. The way they can build things, and the way they are with their young just captivates me."

"It's almost magical."

"Yeah," I agreed. We stood there for several minutes while some of the otters dove in the water, then climbed back out. Others were floating on their backs, cleaning their little faces.

"Ready to see more?" Sean asked from beside me.

"Yes, I'd love to."

3 Hours Later

"Admit it, you're lost," I said for the fiftieth time. He wanted to take me hiking. That was three hours ago. He looked at his map repeatedly and it's gotten us nowhere.

"We aren't lost, Lydia. We're just...turned around."

I scoffed. "Lost."

"You aren't helping." He peered around the woods again, trying to find anything familiar to civilization.

"I told you, you should have asked that couple for directions. What time is it, by the way?" I asked, worried the park was closing.

"I'm a man. We don't ask for directions. It's 4:45."

"Sean, the park closes in fifteen minutes. We're going to be stuck here. Possibly eaten by a bear."

He gave me a droll look. "We won't be eaten by a bear. Mosquitoes, on the other hand..." He looked at the map again before saying, "Let's go this way."

I took two steps before a sharp pain shot through my ankle. "Ow!" I hissed as I tried to take another step.

"Lydia? What is it?" He quickly came to my side to help me sit down.

"It's my ankle. I hurt it or something."

"Let me take a look."

I winced as he took my shoe and sock off. I already saw the bruised swollen ankle before he said anything.

"It's probably a sprain," he sighed. "Well, looks like we're stuck here for a while."

"Wait, what?" I couldn't have heard that right.

He took his hiking backpack off and started pulling stuff out of it. "You can't walk on that foot until the swelling goes down. We need to ice and elevate it."

"Can't you just call someone for help? Or is that not 'manly'?" I said in my best man's voice.

"I don't have cell service up here," he quipped.

"Oh, that's great. So, what? We're just going to spend the night out in the open like this? And where are we going to get ice?"

He flashed me a sly smile as he opened his bag. "You need to learn to always be prepared." He pulled out one of those ice packs you see in hospitals, an ace bandage, and something else in a large pouch.

"What is that?"

"It's a tent."

My mouth dropped open. "You had a tent in there?"

"My dad always taught me to be prepared for anything. Remember when we stopped at that store on the way here and you were looking at the animal calendars?"

"Yes," I said, smiling at the memory.

"Well, I was loading up on 'what if' stuff for this hiking adventure."

"Ah, what if Lydia sprains her ankle? What if Sean gets lost? What if we're stuck here all night? Those 'what ifs'?" I asked with a pointed look.

Holding up the ice pack, he said, "Yes. Now, hold still. This might hurt. I'm going to wrap it, then put ice on it."

"Okay." When he started wrapping it, pain shot through me and I instinctively grabbed his arm.

He paused for a minute and a small gasp left him. I didn't acknowledge it, and neither did he as he finished wrapping it. I let go when he was done, trying not to think about the throbbing pain. He used my bag to elevate my foot.

He retrieved the ice pack from his backpack and squeezed it in his hand. There was a POP then he put the cold pack to my ankle. "Leave that there for a while."

"Your mom taught you well," I said in a quiet voice.

His gaze met mine and he didn't respond to my statement. I didn't expect him to.

He went to his bag and returned with a bottle of water and two small pills.

"What are they?" I've always been wary of taking medication considering my past.

"It's just Ibuprofen to help with the swelling."

I hesitated before I looked at him. There wasn't any malice or suspicion in his eyes. Just concern. Unsettled with how that made me feel, I said, "Thank you," and took the pills and water he offered.

"I'm going to set up the tent. Then after we can eat. Sound good?"

"Mhmm," was my absent reply as I got lost in thought. So much had been changing over the past few days. I was traveling the country with a millionaire, for starters. A millionaire who, deep inside, seemed to be as lost as I was. My mind started to drift back to one of those horrendous night from my childhood when—

"Lydia?" Sean called, pulling me out of my daydreams.

"Yes?"

"I asked if you wanted some of your beef jerky."

"Yeah, thanks." 

He brought me the jerky and sat down beside me. I could feel his eyes on my as I ate, and it started to make me fidgety. 

"What?" 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly.

"Talk about what?" I knew what he meant, but I wanted to at least attempt to be clueless in hopes he would change the subject.

"What's on your mind, Lydia? You know you can talk to me."

I did know that—and sometimes it scared the hell out of me. I exhaled a deep breath. "When my dad attacked my mom, I didn't take it well. I called the cops and he got arrested. She blamed me for him being in prison." I couldn't meet his gaze as I continued. "She wouldn't stop saying horrible things and hitting me. I was eleven. I was just a kid, you know? One night, I..."

"One night what?"

"I couldn't take the beatings. I was just sick of it. I—I hurt myself. When she found out, she called 9-1-1. They Baker Acted me, and when I got home, she and my brothers were gone. I haven't seen them since. I tried to tell the police what was going on in that house, but they never did anything to help me. I was thrown into foster care after that."

I lifted my arm and traced the faint scar on my wrist. I didn't need to look at him to know he saw it, too. I could feel his eyes on my skin like a caress.

"Lydia?" He gently grabbed my arm and brought it to his lips. He placed a small kiss to the scar that I detested before meeting my gaze with only truth in his eyes. "There is nothing wrong with you, and that wasn't your fault. None of it was. They didn't deserve you."

I felt the tears roll down my cheeks. He reached out, cupping my face with his right hand and wiped them away with his thumb. 

"Come here," he said as he hugged me. He didn't say anything after that. He just held me while I cried.

I never told anyone about that. Telling Sean was the closest to freedom I had ever felt.

At least in that moment.