“Why didn’t you tell the police any of this?” I asked, putting my pencil down.
Yoss shrugged. “What would be the point? I’m just another homeless guy hustling to get by. I can’t imagine they’d put a whole lot of effort into finding the dude who raped and beat me. To them it’s not worth the hassle. I don’t need them all up in my business anyway.”
“But this man needs to be put behind bars for what he did to you!” I exclaimed, though I knew he was right. I wouldn’t tell him about the conversation I had with Detective Preston. Because Yoss was right, the police had no plans to look for his attacker.
Yoss glanced at me, his eyes tired. His face sad. “He wasn’t the first or the worst, Imi. Just let it be.”
His resignation broke my heart.
“You said it was a one off. So you hadn’t been—”
“No. Not for years. I got out of that lifestyle. I had to. I made a promise.” His face was flushed and his breathing was a little labored.
He had made a promise. To me. Had he really tried to keep it? Even though he had left me? After what I had seen?
“Look, I’m tired. Do you mind if we finish this later?” he asked, closing his eyes.
I wanted to ask him more questions, but I could tell he didn’t have the energy for it.
“Of course. That’s fine. You should rest anyway.” I started to gather my things.
“Do you think—” Yoss began, but then stopped, his throat working as he swallowed. I paused what I was doing.
“What?”
He kept his eyes closed and I could sense his hesitance. “What?” I asked again.
“Do you think you could stay for a while? Not to ask me a bunch of questions. Just to keep me company.” He sounded embarrassed to be asking.
“You want me to keep you company?”
“If you’ve got other stuff to do, I understand. Forget I asked,” he said defensively.
“No. Of course I don’t mind. I’d love to,” I cut in.
Yoss relaxed and settled back into his pillows. He let out a long, deep breath that he seemed to have been holding for a while.
“Thanks,” he grimaced.
“Of course.” Haltingly, I leaned over and took his hand. I wanted to touch him. Just for a minute. I couldn’t help myself.
Yoss tensed, but then his fingers laced with mine.
Like he had done a hundred times before.
But we weren’t young and in love anymore.
We were older. We had developed thick, impenetrable walls. Time had changed the both of us.
And looking at his battered body and feeling the beat of my wounded heart, it didn’t seem to be for the better.
Yoss fell asleep holding my hand. And I continued to sit there, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
I stayed much longer than I should have.
Because I couldn’t bear letting him go again.
Fifteen Years Ago
