"Because you were strong enough to handle it," she replied simply. "Look at you. You've been through some hard times and you've made it through each and every one. You're successful and healing from your wounds. You've got a loving family."
"A slightly fucked up family," he countered, although he knew he wasn't exactly being fair.
"I wish you could see your father through an outsider's eyes," she said. "Like mine."
"And what do you see?" Heath asked her, glancing at her before turning his eyes back to the road.
"I see a kindly old man," she replied. "I see a man who has been through struggles of his own, who's had a hard life too. I see him wanting desperately to atone for his mistakes from the past. I see him loving his sons, his family. His granddaughters. I see someone who's trying to be better. I wish you could see it too."
Heath had never thought of it exactly how she had phrased it, but hearing it now allowed him to get a glimpse of the man Drew had met—not the one he'd grown up with.
"You're different," she went on softly. "You've changed. What makes you think he can't, or hasn't?"
Heath remained silent, but her point struck home and she knew it.
"Do you feel like your attack happened for a reason?" he asked after a moment.
"Yes," she answered. "I do."
"And what's that?"
"Again—took me a while to get here. But I feel like it happened and I survived it because I was meant to stop it." She smiled wryly. "I know that sounds really weird and cheesy. But I feel like, I walked away from the attack when no other woman did. That means something. I had to live to be the one to end it. That's the only reason why I'm testifying on Monday. I have to do it; there's no other choice. I have to do it and save some lives that maybe he would have ended up taking if I didn't testify, if he got off. I believe I was meant for more in life than to just be a victim." She smiled, genuinely this time, and briefly touched his arms. "And so are you."
He glanced at her again, and removed his hand from where it rested on the automatic gear shift and took her hand. They drove on that way in silence for a while before Heath thought of something.
"You still taking your meds?" he asked, then shook his head. "Sorry if that was random. I was just thinking about things."
"It's okay," she said. "And no, I'm not taking them anymore. Although sometimes I want to. But I don't want to be a pill-popper."
Heath could certainly relate; his experience with pills was recent enough to allow him to know precisely how she felt.
"What made you stop?" he asked. "I know you have panic attacks and get anxiety still."
"I do, but not nearly as much." She cleared her throat and glanced out the window. "Actually, you have a lot to do with that."
He looked at her in surprise. "How do you figure?"
She bit her lip but he saw a dimple suddenly appear like magic in her cheek. "I don't know," she hedged. "It's just—you've made me feel different. Like I can look people in the face again, that I don't have to be scared that I'm about to be raped and murdered every time I leave my house. You've made me comfortable with being me and…living." She met his eyes quickly, her cheeks pink. "I—I trust you. Do you know how nice it is to feel like I can trust another human being again?"
"I'm glad," he replied quietly, sincerely. "I trust you, too."
She cleared her throat once more but looked at him, leaning her head back again. "I've felt real happiness for the first time in almost a year, Heath. It's because of you."
He squeezed her hand. He didn't really know how to respond; these kinds of conversations were so alien to him. He'd never imagined he'd be having this sort of talk with a woman. "I'm happy, too," he said, still quiet. "I don't think I've ever really been happy. But I feel it now."
She smiled, and something else occurred to him to discuss with her too, since apparently now they were getting all feelsy.
"So, what is this?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. "You and me. What are we doin' here?"
"What do you mean?" she responded, but her voice was low and shy.
Heath couldn't believe his own level of discomfort, but one of them had to bring it up. "I mean, us," he repeated. "Are we…together? Are we friends? Are you just usin' me for my charm and money?" He flashed her a quick grin, but it belied the authenticity of his true feelings and insecurity. He'd had "girlfriends" in the past, but he'd never had anyone who made him feel what he was feeling for Drew, and certainly no one he could ever fully trust the way he did her.