The drive to work is a blur. My head buzzes with replays of last night, each memory sending fresh waves of heat through my body. I should be horrified. I should be calling the police. Instead, I’m pressing my thighs together at stoplights, reliving the pressure of him against me.
When I pull into the print shop parking lot, I catch myself smiling in the rearview mirror. A real smile, not the practiced one I’ve worn for years. I quickly school my expression into something more neutral, but it keeps creeping back. God, I’m a mess.
The bell chimes as I come through the back door. Valerie and Mia are already there, both hovering near the counter with coffee cups in hand.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in! You’re later than usual,” Valerie says, but her teasing tone falls away as she studies my face. “Holy shit, what happened to you?”
I freeze halfway to my desk. “What do you mean?”
Mia steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re... glowing. And smiling. At 9:30 AM on a Tuesday.” She presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “Are you sick? Did you win the lottery? Did Eli finally get hit by a bus?”
A nervous laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “No, nothing like that.” I set my purse down and busy myself with arranging things on my desk, avoiding their eyes.
“Spill it,” Valerie demands, blocking my path when I try to move toward the microwave to grab Val’s daily gift of morning coffee. “You haven’t looked like this since... actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look like this.”
I hesitate, suddenly aware of how crazy this will sound. My two best friends are staring at me with matchingexpressions of curiosity and concern. I trust them more than anyone else in my life. If I can’t tell them, who can I tell?
“I had an... encounter last night,” I begin, my voice dropping to a whisper even though we’re alone in the shop.
Mia’s eyebrows shoot up. “An encounter? Like, with a person? A male person?”
I nod, my face burning.
“Oh my god,” Valerie breathes. “You cheated on Eli?”
“No!” I say quickly, then backtrack. “Well, sort of. Not really. Nothing happened. I mean, something happened, but not... that.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Mia says, pulling me toward the back room. “Come on, we need privacy for this conversation.”
They usher me into the small break room and close the door. Valerie leans against it like she’s worried I might bolt, while Mia perches on the edge of the table, both of them staring expectantly.
I take a deep breath. “Remember how I told you about that guy at the bookstore? The one who tried to buy me those books?”
They nod in unison.
“And remember how I mentioned someone watching the house? Standing in the dune grass?”
More nods, more intense now.
“Well, it’s the same person. And last night, I caught him. Or he caught me. It’s complicated.”
I explain how I woke up thirsty, went to the kitchen, and saw him at the door. I tell them about grabbing the knife, about slipping on the steps, about him pinning me down. My body betraying me, where I let him touch me, where I came apart under his hands.
“And then I recognized his voice, it was the bookstore guy. I said ‘stop,’ and he just... left. Disappeared into the night.” I twist my hands in my lap, the sleeve of my shirt riding up slightly to reveal the edge of a dull bruise.
Valerie grabs my wrist before I can pull it back, pushing the sleeve higher. “Jesus, Lila,” she hisses. “He did this to you?”
I snatch my hand back. “It’s not what you think. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Those are fucking handprints,” Mia says, her voice rising. “He held you down. That’s assault!”
“No, it wasn’t like that,” I insist, though I know how it sounds. How do I explain that those bruises came from pleasure, not pain? That I didn’t fight him because I didn’t want to?
“Then what was it like?” Valerie asks, her tone softer now, concerned rather than accusatory.
I stare at the linoleum floor, tracing patterns with my eyes. “He stopped when I asked. He could have hurt me. I was alone, Eli wasn’t home, he had me pinned, but he didn’t. He just... left.”
“That doesn’t make him a good guy,” Mia says. “That makes him, bare minimum, not being a rapist.”
