At this point, one board member, Jeanette, an older Black woman, softens her gaze and unfolds her arms. I was under the impression that everyone was privy to my past, but she seems stunned by my revelation. “I had to make the 911 call, all while the vision of my stepfather dead on the floor from a gunshot wound was burrowing its way into my psyche for the rest of my life.” I avoid letting myself think too much about that day and the visuals that have stayed with me since, but the dead bodies flash through my brain like it’s happening again in real time. Halle struggles to recall them because she was so young, but I was just on the cusp of being able to retain memories, and with the nightmares that followed in those months, I’m able to picture everything about that scene—the way the bodies lay, where each victim was shot, and all of the blood.
So much fucking blood.
Halle’s hand rests over mine, and she gives it a gentle squeeze, and I realize that I’ve gone quiet. I swallow hard, continuing. “My stepfather’s death was senseless. The deaths of the two other victims who lost their lives that day were senseless. It was all a tragedy, and the man responsible is currently in North Carolina serving multiple life sentences without the possibility of parole. But I’m not here to convince you that what we went through was tragic. I’d hope you could come to that conclusion on your own. What I’m here to explain is how my relationship with Halle was set into motion that day. Yes, we were trauma-bonded. I am not denying that. That much is obvious, and several therapists have confirmed it, both in childhood and adolescence. You can’t go through something like that and not be connected to that person. She’s the only person in the world who understood what I went through and vice versa.” I drag my finger over Halle’s hand that is still resting atop mine. At this point, three of the five people on the other side of the table seem distraught by what I’ve disclosed. Jeanette now has tears in her eyes that she’s dabbing with a tissue every few moments. One man is taking notes, and the other seems more uncomfortable than anything.
I don’t blame him. I’m uncomfortable as well.
“We became extremely codependent. There were times when Halle would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and I’d be there to comfort her. There were times when I was paralyzed by fear just going into grocery stores, and the only thing that got me through it was holding her hand as we walked through the aisles. All of it was innocent. Two kids just trying to navigate very adult things.” I look at her because we agreed that we should both talk, and I was ready for her to take over if she was comfortable.
“As you could imagine,” Halle states, “as we got older, our relationship transformed. We were still codependent, but it was very different. I trusted him more than I trusted anyone. I knew he’d look out for me and protect me from anything, and yes, feelings started to form on both sides. But contrary to what people may believe, it didn’t feel like I was falling for my stepbrother. It felt like I was falling for this person who was there on the worst day of my life and every day since. The person who knew every single thing about me and never once looked at me with judgment. He understood me, and I understood him because we’d gone through this experience together. I don’t know how to explain it other than it just happened. It was something bigger than anything we could control. And not to sound cliché, but I do feel like he’s my soulmate. The person who knew me better than anyone, and when you’re living in a world without the two people who brought you into it, you cling to that familiarity. That feeling thatsomeonegets you.As we got older, we tried to end things, but we didn’t know how to break the bond we had. But we did try. He moved out here and tried to put distance between us. But we always found our way back to each other. It was as if the harder we tried to break apart, the more the universe tried to force us together.”She shrugs. “Almost like we were magnets.” She looks over at me, and I can almost hear her thoughts.
How was that?
So fucking good, baby. I’m so proud of you. So proud to call you mine.I hope she can read in my eyes before I turn back toward the board members.
“I know how this looks, believe me.” I continue. “But this is not just a forbidden affair. This is my life.Our life, for the past twenty years. And respectfully, there’s nothing that you all could say or do to me that would make me give her up.”
Wild wanted to leave for the day, but he had some meetings that he couldn’t move. So he called me an Uber back to his place. I’ve showered, and now I’m curled up in his bed, emotionally drained from the morning. But I’ll admit that it went better than I thought it would. They weren’t combative or judgmental, and it seemed they genuinely felt for the two kids whose lives were changed in the blink of an eye, in one of the worst ways possible.They wanted a couple of days to discuss, but his lawyer mentioned that not calling for the temporary removal of Wild as CEO while they decided was a good sign.
Halle: 15 years old
Sebastian: 16 years old
It’s been over a year since Wild and I have been sneaking out of our rooms in the middle of the night to see each other. We do spend a lot of those nights kissing. But on other nights, we just talk. Sometimes we listen to musicveryquietly. Other times, we play cards or other games. He taught me how to play chess, I taught him how to bebetterat checkers, and we both got better at poker. Because learning how to bluff against the one person who could read you like a book meant you could fool anyone.
I can tell we are inching toward doing more than just kissing, but Wild has never pressured me to do anything. Since the beginning, I’ve always made the first moves, and I’m sure thatwhen I’m ready to take the next step to do more, I’ll be the one to initiate it. We’ve talked alotabout what all of this meant and how we really shouldn’t tell anyone, because no one would understand. People would think we were sick or weird because this was unconventional and taboo. We didn’t feel like our feelings were wrong, but deep down, we knew we couldn’t take this relationship into the light.
I slip into his room and turn on my cell phone flashlight and note him sleeping soundly on his back. He had a game today, so knowing he’s more tired than usual, I contemplate going back to my room and letting him sleep. I have my hand on the handle in preparation to retreat when I hear him whisper my name.
“Halle,” he murmurs, and because he rarely calls me that, I realize he’s talking in his sleep—something he only does when he’s exhausted or anxious.I move toward his bed and sit next to him, and his eyes fly open instantly. “Hey.” He yawns and blinks his eyes a few times. “How long have you been here? Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”
“It’s okay. You need some rest,” I say before pressing my lips to his forehead and then his cheek and last, his lips.
His eyes flutter shut again as he nods his head, before leaning up to press his lips a little harder to mine and sliding his tongue between my lips once. “Stay with me?”
“I wish I could, but you know I can’t.”
“Just for a little bit? I… I need you, Saint. I love you,” he murmurs, and my heart soars hearing those three little words we’ve been saying to each other for years, but in the past year, they have meant something completely different.
It takes on a whole new meaning when it’s being whispered between kisses.
I look at my phone and note that the time is a little after three in the morning. I know this is a terrible idea because I don’t want to accidentally fall asleep here, and setting an alarm runs the riskof Sara hearing it. “Just until you go back to sleep,” I tell him, knowing that he’ll be asleep again before I’m even able to get comfortable. But what I did not anticipate was him pulling me to lie on his chest and wrapping his arms around me. His arms are warm and protective, and he still smells clean and fresh from his shower. Feelings of safety and security wash over me, and I want to feel this forever. I press my face into his chest and take a deep inhale. His scent both calms me and makes my heart race.
He tilts my chin up to meet his face, then brushes his lips against mine, and before long, that gentle brush becomes full-on kissing. At some point, he moves so that he’s on top of me. I don’t know how long we've been kissing before a burst of light in the room makes us break apart, both of our eyes wide and unblinking as we turn to the light switch to see Sara staring at us, her eyes wide in horror and her mouth ajar.
And then, everything changed again.
The feeling of someone sliding my underwear down my legs pulls me out of sleep, and when I open my eyes, I see Sebastian on his stomach in front of me, pressing kisses to my inner thighs. “Shit, I didn’t even realize I fell asleep. What time is it?” I ask, my voice still thick with sleep.
“A little after four. I got here as soon as I could.” The last time I looked at the clock, it read just after twelve thirty, so I must have been sleeping hard. I rarely nap with grad school, which makes it practically impossible, so whenever I do, I’m usually out for hours.
I nod and sit up before opening my arms so he can climb up my body and hold me. I wanted him to fuck me too, but I wanted to cuddle and hear him tell me that everything was going to be okay, especially after that memory.
Sara screamed a lot that first night we got caught.
Then she grounded us both and then spent the next week practically sleeping outside my bedroom door.
I felt like a prisoner in my own house.
