Are you with him? Is he okay? I assume he’s told you everything by now.
I want him to know that I’m happy. I really am.
I could not ask for a better brother. Never. He is my world. Tell him that, okay?
Allison, where are you? Please answer me. I’m freaking out. I don’t want Esben reliving this. It will always be a part of me, but it will not define me. It does not cage me. It DOES not.
Show him these messages, okay?
The painting? Yes, it’s violent. But it helps express what happened. It gives me power. A visual way for me to expel that night. It’s a positive thing.
I can’t stand for him to be holding on to this.
I give Esben my phone. “Read.”
Hesitantly, he goes through her texts. Then he types for a while on his own phone before tossing it on the couch. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m sorry. I should go. I’m so tired.”
“No,” I say. “Don’t go. Stay here.”
His smile is so sweet and so full of emotional and physical exhaustion. “If you’d said that any other night...”
I set a hand on his chest. “Not like that. Just stay here. Stay with me. I don’t want you to be alone, and I don’t want to be without you. So stay.”
He looks at me for a long time, and his eyes grow wet again. “I’d really...” He struggles to speak. “I’d really like that.”
“Then let’s go to bed, okay?”
Without waiting for an answer, I pick up my phone and then help him walk to my room. Despondently, he sits on my bed, and I take off his shoes and socks. I push back the covers, then undo the top of his jeans. “Lie back.” He watches me as I pull the zipper and ease down his pants. This is arguably not how I thought I might first take off his pants, but he can’t sleep like this. I turn off the overhead light. Though it’s dark, it’s not pitch-black, and I know that he can see me as I get out of my dress and into a T-shirt.
“You really are so gorgeous,” he says.
“I think you’re a little drunk,” I say with a laugh. I slip under the comforter and rest my head on the pillow.
Esben rolls into me, and I move my arm under him so that he’s on his side, resting his head on my chest. “Yes. But tequila doesn’t make me lie. It just lets the truth come out. And you are beautiful. Everything about you.” He wraps an arm over my stomach and secures our closeness. “I hate that you know this. I hate that I’m a mess. I hate that Kerry was hurt so badly. I hate all of it.”
“I know you do. But secrets will pull you under and drown you. You taught me that. We are beyond secrets. Way past them. You do not have to be infallible, Esben. You’re allowed to be human and to have hurt and worry and...pain. And sharing those with me? It makes you stronger, in my eyes. That’s how you’ve made me feel.” I try to soothe him with my words, with my touch. When I run my hand over his shoulder and up and down his arm, I can feel him relax against me, so I don’t stop.
He is indeed drunk, because as he begins to drift into the dark of the night, he says, “I love you, Allison. It happened when I wasn’t looking for it, when I didn’t know I needed it. But I fell in love with you so quickly and so smoothly. So without question.” He shifts closer against me. “Don’t say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
Esben drifts off immediately, and I lie in the quiet, with his body glued to mine. I’m so floored by what he’s said, and I wouldn’t know how to respond if he were awake, but I keep him against me and soak in the feeling of this indescribable boy who has his body wrapped over mine.
When he is solidly asleep, I stretch for my phone and call Kerry.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
“He’s okay?”
“Esben is asleep, and, yes, he’s going to be fine. It was just a rough night because he loves you so much. But he understands what you need him to.”
“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” I pause. “Telling you that I’m sorry you went through this isn’t enough. I don’t know what to say except to let you know how much I care about you. I don’t have many friends, but you’re one of them, Kerry, and I’m proud of you for surviving with so much strength. And if you ever want to talk...”
“I’d like that, Allison. I don’t keep this a secret, but I don’t talk to everyone about it, obviously. But you’re so great, and it means a lot that you didn’t run from this screaming. I threw a lot at you tonight, unexpectedly, and you handled it with grace.” She exhales loudly. “And now you understand why he does what he does, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I reply. It hurts to say what I do. “He wants to undo what he thinks he did. He wants to prove that the world is more than just brutal. To prove that there is good.”
