He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. And we should be focusing on you.” Air expels from his mouth in a loud rush. “You were clearly in a desperate way the night you came to me, and I should’ve helped you instead of pushing you away. I’m so sorry, babe. I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since. If I had only—”
“Stop.” I grab hold of his muscular arm. “There is nothing you could’ve done to stop me. I needed to get out of my head, and if you didn’t give me pills, I would still have left. I wouldn’t have told you the truth either. I—” An invisible hand breaches my rib cage, wrapping imaginary fingers around my heart, squeezing. “It’s not your fault, Adam.” I grapple with my emotions, taking deep breaths to avoid a repeat of earlier. “It’s not my parents’ fault either. It’s all on me.”
For the first time, I see clearly. This overdose has opened my eyes. Shocked me into facing reality. Or maybe it’s an epiphany. I see now what I’ve always denied. I’ve pointed the finger of blame at everyone. Especially my rapist. And my parents.
But the only person to blame is me.
No one forced me to take drugs. I did that by myself. I chose to bury the pain of my violation instead of opening up. I never even gave my parents a chance to help me. I doubt Mom would have helped. Especially knowing her lover was the one who raped me. But Dad would have.
I know that now.
But I denied him the chance to help me.
I deniedmyselfthe chance to help me.
Choosing to hide from reality instead.
“I wanted to die,” I whisper, looking Adam directly in the face. I’m not holding back anymore. I want him to understand everything going through my head. “I went back to that bar, Randaddys, and I sought out the same dealer, knowing what’d happened the last time would most likely happen again. I also knocked back several vodka shots. I needed to forget. To blank it all from my mind.” I sniffle, but I push through the fresh bout of tears waiting in the wings. “I knew there was a chance someone would call an ambulance like last time, but a part of me hoped no one did.” A messy ball of emotion clogs my throat. “I just wanted it to end, Adam. I just wanted the pain to go away.” My voice wobbles.
The door opens, and my father steps into the room with impeccable timing. “Help me sit up,” I implore Adam as Dad walks over to the bed with two paper cups in his hand.
Adam lifts me gently, propping my back against a heap of pillows. I clutch onto his strong forearms and press my lips to his. “I love you.” I want him to know that before I unburden myself because there’s a strong possibility he’ll want nothing more to do with me.
“I love you too,” he instantly replies, and I love that he’s not afraid to admit it in front of my father. “And you’re still my girl. We will get through this, and you can count on me.”
I kiss him again, hoping he still feels the same after I tell him what I’ve decided to do.
“Ahem.” Dad loudly clears his throat, and we break apart. When my gaze swings his way, he’s smiling broadly. “As much as I hate to break this up, I believe you were about to explain, and I think it’s long overdue, don’t you?” He hands Adam a coffee, before sitting in the chair. Adam perches on the edge of my bed, sipping his drink.
I steel my spine, ignoring the tight chest in my pain. Admitting this is going to kill my father. And Adam too.
I don’t know if there’s any good way to tell them the truth, so I just rip the Band-Aid straight off. “I was raped when I was fifteen,” I admit, watching all the color drain from Adam’s and my father’s faces. “I was coming home late after dance class. You were away at some football thing, and Mom told me to walk home because she was running late.”
Bile collects in my mouth, and I gulp over the pain of that admittance.
She lied to me.
She let me walk home in the dark alone so she could fuck her lover in her marital bed.
And it hasn’t gone unnoticed that she isn’t here either.
She really doesn’t care.
She would rather go to work than wait by her daughter’s bed.
Whatever.
I’ve washed my hands of her now.
“A man jumped me around the corner from our house,” I continue. “He dragged me behind the Marsden’s abandoned property, injected me with something which I now believe to be GHB, and proceeded to rape me.”
I’ll spare them the gory details. Over the years, I’ve been in two minds over the fact he doped me up. I don’t know whether it’s a good or bad thing that I can’t remember much of his assault because my mind was spinning. I remember his face as he loomed over me doing unspeakable things to me, but I don’t actually remember much of the assault. Sometimes, my mind goes into overdrive imagining all the things he could’ve done to my body, and I wish I remembered so I could stop torturing myself over that aspect of it.
I’ve often wondered if that first taste of mind-altering drugs is the reason why I turned to them, mainly, to forget my pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dad’s anguished cry pulls me out of my inner thoughts. “I can’t believe that happened and I didn’t know!” He completely falls apart, his broad shoulders shaking as tears rock his body. “I’m so sorry, Emily,” he cries. “I’m so fucking sorry I failed you.”
There is something so heart-wrenching about a grown man sobbing so painfully. I pull back the covers, needing to comfort him. Adam slides his arms underneath me, carrying me over and positioning me in my father’s lap.
