Confess

by Colleen Hoover

  He closes the door in my face, and I walk the soaps to my room, feeling a little ridiculous.

  I have serious issues.

  I set the soap down on my nightstand and pick up my phone. I have several missed text messages, and only one of them is from my mother. I scroll through them and they're all from Owen. I start at the bottom and work my way up.

  Call me.

  Are you okay?

  It's important.

  Meat dress.

  Please call me.

  If you don't respond to my text in five minutes, I'm coming over.

  I immediately text him back.

  Don't come over, Trey is here. I'm fine.

  I hit send and then type him another message.

  Are you okay?

  He pings me back immediately.

  Someone broke into my studio tonight. They destroyed everything.

  My hand flies up to my mouth, and I gasp.

  He took your confession, Auburn.

  My heart is in my throat, and I quickly glance up to make sure Trey isn't standing at my door. I don't want him to see my reaction right now, or he'll want to know who I'm texting. I quickly send Owen another message.

  Did you call the police?

  His response comes through just as I hear the door to the bathroom open.

  And tell them what, Auburn? To come clean up their mess?

  I read the text twice.

  Their mess?

  I immediately hit delete on all the messages. I set the phone down and try to appear casual, but Owen's last message is playing over and over in my head. He thinks Trey did this?

  I want to say that Owen is wrong. I want to say that Trey wouldn't be capable of doing something like what was done to Owen, but I don't know what or who to believe anymore.

  Trey appears in the doorway and I study his eyes, trying to get a clue from them, but he gives me nothing but a wall.

  I smile at him. "You're back early."

  He doesn't smile back. My heart is trying to climb through the walls of my chest, and not in a good way.

  He walks into my room and sits down on my bed. He kicks his shoes off and knocks them onto the floor. "What ever happened to that cat?" he asks. "What'd you say his name was? Sparkles?"

  I swallow. Why is he asking about Owen's cat?

  "Ran away," I say calmly. "Emory was devastated for a week."

  He nods, working his jaw back and forth. He reaches a hand up and grabs my arm. I look down at it just as he pulls me to him. I fall against his chest, stiff as a board. He wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. "I missed you, so I came back early."

  He's being nice. Too nice. My guard stays up.

  "Guess what?" he says.

  "What?"

  His hand moves to my hair and he runs his fingers through it. "I found a house today."

  I pull away from his chest and look up at him, just as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "I didn't realize you were looking for another house."

  He smiles. "I thought I might get something a little bigger. Now that mom has moved back, I figured I could let her have that house, since it was hers to begin with. It's probably better if we had more privacy, anyway. The house I'm looking at has a fenced-in backyard. It's on Bishop, near the park. It's a really good neighborhood."

  I don't say anything, because it sounds like he means he found us a house today. The thought of that terrifies me.

  "Mom went with me to look at it. She really liked it. She said AJ would love it there."

  I can't imagine Lydia saying AJ would love anything that isn't hers. "She really said that?"

  Trey nods, and I find myself imagining what that would be like. Actually being able to live in the same house with AJ, in a good neighborhood with a backyard. And once again the thought makes its way into my head that it could be worth it. I'll never love Trey like I loved Adam, and I'll never feel the connection with him that I have with Owen, but Adam and Owen can't give me the one thing in my life that I need. Only Trey can do that.

  "What are you saying, Trey?"

  He smiles down at me, and I realize in this moment that maybe Owen was wrong. If Trey were responsible for destroying Owen's studio, he wouldn't be here saying the things he's saying right now. He would be livid, because he would know that confession was from me.

  "I'm saying this isn't a game to me, Auburn. I love AJ and I need to know that you're in this with me. That we're in this together."

  He shifts until he's on top of me, and then he leans forward and kisses me. We've been dating for over two months now and I've never let him do anything but kiss me. I'm still not ready to go further than this, but I know he is. And I know his patience has been wearing thin.

  He groans and his tongue dives deeper into my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut and hate that I'm forcing myself to pretend I'm okay with this. But internally, I'm just stalling, giving myself a moment to think about what move I need to make next, because Owen's texts are still in the back of my mind. Not to mention the fact that Owen may very well be on his way here.

  Trey's hands become needier as they grope and pull at me. His mouth moves roughly from mine, and he begins to kiss me all over as one of his hands works the buttons on my shirt.

  I want to tell him to stop, but it's all happening so fast, I can't find a point at which to push him away. His hand is unbuttoning my jeans, and he's working his fingers inside my underwear when I can't take a second more of this. I dig my heels into my mattress and push him away as I attempt to scoot up on the bed.

  He pulls away for a few seconds and looks at me, but words fail to come out of my mouth. When I say nothing, his mouth is immediately on mine again with even more force. He didn't get a verbal no, so I guess that means yes to him.

  I press against his chest. "Trey, stop."

  He immediately stops kissing me and presses his face into the pillow. He groans, frustrated, and I don't know what to say next. I just made him angry.

  His hand is still in my jeans, and even though I'm not kissing him, he continues to slide his hand further until I have to physically push his hand away. He presses his palm into the bed beside me and lifts up until his face is just inches from mine. His eyes are full of anger, but it's not the anger that scares me.

  It's the disgust.

  "You can fuck my little brother when you're fifteen, but you can't fuck me as an adult?"

  His words hurt. They hurt so much, I have to close my eyes and turn away from him.

  "I didn't fuck Adam," I say. I slowly look in his direction again, and I stare him straight in the eyes. "I made love to Adam."

  He lowers his face until his mouth is directly over my ear. The heat from his breath makes my skin crawl. "What was it when Owen was fucking you in his bed? Was that love?"

  I suck in a rush of air.

  My entire body tenses, and I know if I try to run, he'll stop me. I also know that if I don't try to run, he'll more than likely hurt me.

  I've never been more scared.

  He remains on top of me, his mouth poised next to my ear. He doesn't speak again, but he doesn't have to. His hand is making his intentions clear as he works his way inside my jeans again.

  For a split second, I wonder if I should let him do this. If I just shut up and allow him to take what he wants, maybe it'll be enough for him to forgive what happened with Owen. I can't let this come between me and my son.

  But those thoughts only last for a split second, because there is no way in hell I'll allow AJ to grow up with a spineless mother.

  "Get off me."

  He doesn't. Instead, he lifts his head and looks down at me with a grin so cold, it sends a rush of chills over me. I don't know who he is right now. I've never seen this side of him before. "Trey, please."

  His hand is rough, and I'm squeezing my legs together, but it doesn't stop him from forcing my thighs apart. I'm pushing him, but my weakness is laughable compared to his strength. His mouth is back on mine and when I try to turn a
way from him, he bites my lip, forcing his kiss on me.

  I can taste the blood.

  I begin to sob as soon as he begins unbuttoning his own jeans.

  This isn't happening.

  "She said stop."

  It's not my voice, and it isn't Trey's, but the words force him to stop. I glance up to find Emory standing in the doorway, pointing a gun in our direction. Trey slowly turns to face the door. When he sees her, he carefully rolls onto his back with his palms face out.

  "You do realize you're pointing a gun at a police officer," Trey says calmly.

  Emory laughs. "You do realize I'm stopping an assault, don't you?"

  He sits up, slowly, and she raises the gun even higher, keeping it trained on him.

  "I don't know what you think is going on here, but if you don't hand me that gun, you'll be in a shitload of trouble."

  Emory looks at me but keeps the gun aimed at Trey. "Who do you think will be in trouble, Auburn? The officer who was forcing himself on you or the roommate who shot his dick off?"

  Luckily her question was rhetorical, because I'm crying too hard to answer. Trey runs his palm over his mouth and then squeezes his jaw, attempting to figure out how to get out of the mess he's just put himself in.

  Emory focuses her attention back on him. "You're going to walk out of this apartment and all the way to the end of the hallway. I'll set your gun and your keys on the hallway floor once you're out of reach."

  I can feel Trey look at me, but I don't look at him. I can't. He runs a gentle hand up my arm. "Auburn, you know I would never hurt you. Tell her she's confused." I can feel him reach up to my face, but Emory's voice stops him.

  "Get. The fuck. Out! " she yells.

  Once again, Trey raises his palms in the air. He stands, slowly, and buttons his jeans. He bends to grab his shoes.

  "Leave them. Get out," Emory says firmly.

  She slowly backs out of the doorway as he makes his way toward her. I watch the back of his head as he turns toward the front door and Emory follows him.

  "All the way to the end of the hall," she says.

  Several more seconds pass before she says, "Throw me his shoes, Auburn."

  I reach across the bed and grab his shoes from the floor. I walk them to her and watch as she sets his shoes outside of our front door. She keeps a close eye on Trey at the end of the hallway as she lays the gun beside the shoes. As soon as it's out of her hands, she slams the door shut and dead bolts it, then fastens the chain lock. I'm now standing in the doorway of my bedroom, watching to make sure he's gone. She turns to face me, wide-eyed.

  "I told you I liked the other guy more."

  I somehow laugh between all my tears. Emory steps forward and hugs me, and as strange as she is, I'm more grateful to her than I've ever been to anyone in my life.

  "Thank you so much for eavesdropping."

  She laughs. "My pleasure." She pulls back and looks me in the eye. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

  I shake my head and pull my hand up to my lip to see if it's still bleeding. It is, but before I can turn to the kitchen, Emory is already tearing a paper towel off the holder. She turns on the faucet just as a knock lands against the door.

  We both turn and look at the door.

  "Auburn." It's Trey's voice. "Auburn, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  He's crying. That, or he's a really good actor.

  "We need to talk about this. Please."

  I know Owen is probably on his way over right now after all of his frantic texts, so I just want to get rid of Trey before they come face-to-face. That's the last thing I need tonight. I walk to the door, but I don't unlock it.

  "We'll talk about this tomorrow," I say through the door. "I need space tonight, Trey."

  A few seconds pass and he says, "Okay. Tomorrow."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Owen

  I pull into a parking garage across the street from her apartment so Trey doesn't see my car.

  When I'm out of my car and across the street, I keep running until I'm beating on her front door.

  "Auburn!" I keep knocking. "Auburn, let me in!"

  I can hear the locks begin to unlatch one by one, and with each lock that opens, I somehow grow more and more nervous. When she finally opens the door, and I see her standing in front of me, every part of me exhales, even my heart.

  Remnants of tears line her cheeks, and the two seconds it takes to enter her apartment and pull her to me feel like an hour too long. "Are you okay?"

  Her arms wrap around me and I reach back to shut the door. I lock it and then pull her to me just as she nods.

  "I'm fine."

  Her voice is anything but fine. She sounds terrified. I push her away from me until she's at arm's length, and I take her in.

  Her hair is a mess.

  Her shirt is torn.

  Her lip is bleeding.

  Her head is moving back and forth and she's telling me no. She can see the fury in my eyes, just as I turn around and begin to unlock the door.

  He can fuck with me all he wants. I draw the line when it comes to her.

  Her hands are on my arms, pulling me away from the door. "Owen, stop." I swing open the door and step into the hall, but she pushes herself in front of me and puts her hands on my chest. "You're angry. Calm down first. Please."

  I breathe in and out, attempting to calm myself down. But only because she said please. I hope she never finds out that hearing her say that one word could convince me to do anything she wants. Ever.

  She urges me back inside her apartment. I walk to the counter and rest my arms on it, pressing my forehead against them.

  I close my eyes, and I contemplate.

  I think about what he might do next. I think about where he might go. I think about where she needs to be so that she's safe from him.

  I don't have answers to any of those thoughts, other than the last one. She needs to be with me. I'm not letting her out of my sight tonight.

  I straighten up and turn around to face her. "Get your things. We're leaving."

  I choose to take her to a hotel for the night because I don't trust her being at my studio with me. I'm still not sure what happened between the two of them and I don't know what he's capable of at this point.

  She looks over her shoulder the entire way to our room, so I take her hand in mine and try to give her reassurance that she's safe for the night.

  Once we're inside the hotel room and I shut the door, it feels as though the air is different in here. Like there's more of it, because she's finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. I hate that she's been so worried, and knowing that Trey is a huge part of her life makes me even more concerned for her.

  She slips her shoes off and takes a seat on the bed. I sit down beside her and take her hand in mine again.

  "Will you tell me what happened?"

  She inhales slowly with another nod. "He showed up right before I saw your texts. At first, I didn't think he was capable of doing something like you were suggesting, but when he walked into my room, I saw it. There was something in the way he looked at me. The first thing he did was ask about Sparkles."

  I don't want to interrupt her, but I have no idea what Sparkles means.

  "Sparkles?"

  She shoots me a quick, embarrassed smile. "I told him Owen-Cat was Emory's, and that her name was Sparkles."

  I shake my head in confusion. "Why would he ask about my cat?" As soon as the question leaves my mouth, the answer becomes clear. "He was in my studio," I say. "He must have seen her and put two and two together."

  She nods, but she stops talking. I wait for her to continue her story, but she doesn't.

  "What happened next?"

  She shrugs. "He just . . ."

  She starts crying, quietly, so I give her a minute to continue at her own pace.

  "He started talking about AJ and buying a house and . . . then he started kissing me. When I asked him to stop . . ." She pauses again and inhales a quick breath. "He s
aid something about me and you being together in your bed, and that's when I knew he read my confession. I tried to get away but he held me down. That's when Emory walked in."

  I should have gotten there faster, but thank God for Emory.

  "That's all that happened, Owen. He stopped, and then he left."

  I lift my hand to her lip and touch the area next to where she's bleeding. "And here? Did he do this?"

  She glances down and nods. I hate seeing the shame in her expression. That should be the last thing she's feeling right now.

  "Did you call the police? Do you want to call them now?" I begin to lift off the bed to get the phone for her, but her eyes widen and she begins shaking her head back and forth.

  "No," she says. "Owen, I can't report this."

  I pause for a moment, just to make sure I heard her right. I release her and sit up straighter, facing her directly. My head tilts in confusion.

  "Trey attacks you in your own apartment, and you aren't going to report him?"

  She looks away, more shame in her expression. "Do you know what would happen if I reported him? Lydia would blame me. She would never let me see AJ."

  "Look at me, Auburn."

  She turns her head and I take her face in my hands. "He attacked you. Lydia may be a bitch, but no one would ever blame you for reporting something like this."

  She pulls away from my hands and shakes her head softly. "He knows I slept with you, Owen. Of course he's going to be angry after finding out I cheated on him."

  I close my eyes. My heart is beating so hard; I think it needs out of this room. "You're defending him?"

  The silence that follows crushes me. I stand up and walk away from the bed, toward the window.

  I try to understand it. I try to make sense of it, but it makes no fucking sense at all.

  "You didn't report him for breaking into your studio. It's the same thing."

  I immediately spin around and face her. "That's only because I've ruined my credibility, Auburn. It would look like a pathetic act of revenge if I blamed Trey for that. He'd get away with it, and I would only make things worse for myself.

  "You, on the other hand--he physically attacked you. There's absolutely no reason in the world why that shouldn't be reported. Not reporting it will make him feel like it's an invitation to do it again."

  Rather than argue with me, she calmly stands and walks toward me. She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face into my chest. I wrap my arms tightly around her in return. I'm suddenly a lot calmer than I was a few seconds ago.