by Amanda Cain
“Lindsey …” I stuttered. “Is Melissa …?”
“Oh no!” She shook her head. “Melissa is Ryan’s.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply. Of course she is. She looks so much like him,” I muttered awkwardly.
“I had just turned sixteen. My mother’s brother lost his job and had moved in with us for a while. One night when he was drunk, he came into my room, and … and raped me. Shocked and scared, I waited a few days before I told my mother. She didn’t believe me, accused me of making it up for attention. She criticized me for being a cheerleader and strutting around in my cheerleading outfit. She admonished me for not behaving more like a proper young girl. She acted like it didn’t happen, and even if it did, I brought it upon myself!” With each sentence, Lindsey’s voice rose steadily. She tried to keep going but had broken down, sobbing uncontrollably.
This was new territory for me. My heart broke for this poor woman. She had suffered through so much, but how did this relate to Ryan and why was she telling me this?
“I am so sorry. No one should ever have to go through that and especially not alone.” She was shivering. I got up to pour us both another glass of wine and retrieved a throw off the couch, which I wrapped around her shoulders.
Pulling the blanket tightly around herself, she continued, “When my mother wouldn’t believe me, my fear intensified. My uncle lived in my house. What if he tried to do it again?” Her voice was barely audible. “I was alone and scared.”
“I went to the free clinic to be examined for diseases, and while I was there, I got on the pill. What if I had gotten pregnant from that bastard?” Her expression was wide eyed and panicked as she relived it. “I was terrified every second of my life. School was my only outlet. I allowed myself to forget, if only for a few hours each day.
“Ryan started paying attention to me. I was so messed-up, and he was so refreshing with his innocence and so easy going.
Lindsey’s despair and remorse marked both her face and her body. When I first saw Lindsey standing over me at the pool, her posture had been impeccable, her spine straight and her face, though angry, had looked young and vibrant. The woman sitting next to me at my kitchen table was struggling. Her shoulders were shrunken, her face furrowed and contorted, and her confidence shattered.
“My uncle did try again. He was drunk and came into my room. I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth and told me what horrible things he would do if I fought him.” She was frantically heaving and trying to catch her breath as she replayed the scene in her mind. “He didn’t succeed, he had been too drunk … he couldn’t …”
“Lindsey, you don’t have to relive it. I understand.”
Lindsey struggled to go on. “After that night, I realized I needed to get out of my mother’s house. I used Ryan. I got off the pill and tried to get pregnant. I knew Ryan would marry me if I were pregnant. He did and we moved in with his family. I was finally away from my uncle and didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Only I didn’t get better, I got worse. I had nightmares about my uncle. I despised the thought of sex and didn’t want Ryan touching me. I turned so cold and put up so many barriers. My friends from school said despicable things behind my back, too cowardly to confront me directly. I quit school. I quit life.” Lindsey rocked back and forth in her seat, appearing scared and tired.
“Ryan’s family took me in, but I knew they didn’t like me. I had no one except Ryan. I should have told him … I knew it was wrong. I was only sixteen and so afraid. I couldn’t confide in him. What if he blamed me for what my uncle did? Then no one would care. I’d have no one. Everyone deserves someone.
“I hated pregnancy, and once Melissa was born, both she and Ryan reminded me of what I went through and what I had done. I couldn’t bear to be around them or anyone. The fear and guilt became too much for me to handle. I let the hatred grow. To be able to live with myself, I had to blame Ryan. I blamed him, but I also needed him. I was terrified of being alone. I used our daughter as a pawn to manipulate him so he wouldn’t leave me.” She went on, shaking her head.
“It didn’t bother me if he had sex with other women; I didn’t care as long as he stayed away from me. But I couldn’t let him fall in love and leave me. I didn’t want to be by myself, alone in the world. Our relationship wasn’t good, but it was all I knew.
“When I saw you two together, the way he looked at you, I knew you were more than just another …” She stopped short. “I could tell he loved you.”
She sat up straighter and seemed to be regaining her composure.
“Is your mom still alive? What kind of connection do you have with her?” I asked.
She bit her lip. “My father divorced my mother and Mom moved to Chicago. Which is why I moved. Ryan followed to be near Melissa.”
“I thought moving to Chicago would provide an opportunity for my mother and me to build some sort of bond. I tried again to talk to her about what happened, but she just nodded her head, and we don’t speak of it. We are distant. We don’t discuss anything important, but she is my mother.”
I didn’t know what to think or say.
“What you have been through is horrible, but why are you telling me? We barely know each other.”
“I agreed to Ryan staying at his apartment in Chicago instead of in our house because I had met someone. I went to see him the weekend you were in Chicago.
“Melissa has met him. He stays over often, but not intimately,” she added. “I asked her not to tell her dad as I’m sure Ryan asked her not to tell me about you.”
“Why did you come home early?”
“Darren and I have been friends for quite a while, but I still can’t be intimate with him,” she confided. “He doesn’t know about my uncle or anything else.” Lindsey’s demeanor had changed. She was distant, like she was now telling someone else’s story instead of her own. “I thought I could be with him in that way, but I couldn’t. There has been no one, including Ryan, since I got pregnant with Melissa.”
I was stunned. “You have not been with a man in over fourteen years?” The surprise registered in my voice.
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to until I met Darren. He’s been very patient. But that weekend, when I went to see him, he said if I couldn’t be intimate with him and I couldn’t tell him why, then I needed to seek help. I hadn’t told him that I was seeing a therapist.”
“Why didn’t you tell him? He sounds like he will stand by you.”
“I thought of therapy as being for the weak. I haven’t allowed myself to be weak or vulnerable since I was sixteen. Therapy is helping, but control is important to me. For example, even though I want to make things right with Ryan, I still threatened him this morning when I dropped off Melissa.”
I cringed. I know Ryan was sick of the bullshit.
“You just told a stranger a very personal story about your childhood and life. You allowed yourself to be vulnerable. Lindsey, you know you have to tell Ryan.”
“I know I need to tell him, and I know if I don’t, you will.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because now I have no choice. I have to tell Ryan.” I was starting to think this woman was insane.
Lindsey smiled for the first time. “When I was five, I was too afraid to ride a bike. My father put me on my bike and pushed me down our steep driveway.” I had no choice. I learned how to ride a bike or fall. At six, I was afraid to swim. My dad threw my box turtle into the pool. I didn’t know they could swim, and I thought he would drown, so I jumped in to save my turtle and got over my fear of water.
“Not the recommended way to teach a child, but it worked. Whenever I’m afraid to do something, I put myself into a situation where not doing it is no longer an option.”
I shook my head. “So, you used me?”
“You could look at that way, but I told you that I thought we could help each other.”
“Do you want me to tell Ryan? Is that why you came here?”
“No, I want your support when I tell Ryan.”
“I don’t understand, what do you mean?”
“I want you to come with me. I’m not asking you to tell him, but come with me and support him and me through this. With you there, he’ll see I’m willing to change. And if you’re there, I think we will be more civil to each other. But I am also afraid he might use this to try to take Melissa from me. To prove I’m unfit. I do love my daughter. She is the reason I agreed to therapy. She asked me to go.”
“What?”
“She said she wanted both me and her dad to be happy. She has seen how I treat her dad, and I’m sure she knew or overheard conversations between Darren and me about my intimacy issues. I now realize you were already in the picture for Ryan. When I refused, she threatened to go to a judge and ask for permission to live with her dad. I knew it was just a threat, but the fact that she felt the need to threaten me worked.”
I’ll be damned. Way to go, Melissa.
I wasn’t so sure my being there with Lindsey would help Ryan, but if it would help Lindsey move on and allow Ryan and me to be together, it couldn’t hurt, right?
Chapter 31
Emma
I called Ryan and asked him to have Melissa stay the night at Stacy’s and not to ask me any questions. He owed me that much.
Standing in front of Ryan’s apartment door, in a surprising gesture of friendship, Lindsey reached for my hand. When Ryan answered his door, his reaction to seeing Lindsey and me standing together, holding hands, was worse than I anticipated.
“What the fuck!?” he exclaimed, his body tensing, anger radiating from his dark emerald eyes, which caused me to flinch. Crap! Did I make the right decision in agreeing to come here?
The look in his eyes as he stared at me was reminiscent of the way he looked at me when he thought Randy and I were together. Complete disdain and distrust.
“Ryan …” I gulped. “Please invite us in. Lindsey is here to share some things with you, and it’s important that you listen. Try to keep an open mind.”
“Are you serious? Em, the last time Lindsey was here, she dropped off Melissa and had the audacity to tell me she hadn’t decided how often she was going to let me see her. She wasn’t sure how often she was going to let me see my own fucking daughter! And now you’re standing here with her like your best fucking friends? Sure, why don’t you both come on in! Fucking make yourselves at home. Apparently, I have no control over what happens in my own fucking life.” The anger and sarcasm in his voice felt like a knife piercing my skin, heading straight toward my heart.
Trying to ignore his impatience, I walked into the kitchen. We had brought wine, beer, and I even threw in a bottle of Jäger for good measure. I poured two glasses of wine and one shot glass of Jäger. I set the wine glasses and the Jäger shot, with a Heineken next to it, on the table.
“Ryan, give us a chance to explain,” I said.
Lindsey began slowly starting with the first night her uncle invaded her bedroom. Hours later, through a lot of crying and a lot of wine, Lindsey finished telling Ryan her story. During that time Ryan struggled between outrage, sympathy, relief, and disbelief. He said he understood her pain but was angry for what she had done to him, the years wasted. I hoped he wouldn’t stay angry at Lindsey and prayed he and I would be able to put the pieces back together and pick up where we left off.
Ryan had remained distant toward me while he listened and reacted to Lindsey. Any glances he threw my way were cursory with no real exhibit of any emotion. I was growing increasingly insecure.
“Why are you telling me this now? After fourteen years you decide to tell the truth. Because you met this guy Darren and aren’t worried about being alone anymore?” Ryan asked Lindsey.
“In part, yes. Therapy is helping me learn how to cope, and telling you is a big part of my therapy. I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I love Melissa, and I want what’s best for her. I want to let go of my anguish and anger and learn how to be a better person. For her, for you, and for me.”
Ryan stood up. “I need to think and you need to leave.”
I didn’t know if he meant me too, but he hadn’t asked me to stay. I figured he needed some time alone to process everything. Ryan hadn’t offered either one of us much comfort.
Lindsey had arranged for Darren to arrive the next day and asked me if I would stay with her while she talked to Darren. I didn’t think she needed my help, but she did need a friend. I wasn’t the best person for that job, considering our short but rocky history and shared relationship with Ryan, but what the hell? Ryan didn’t invite me to stay with him, and I was too tired to fly home tonight, so I stayed at Lindsey’s.
I could see the love Darren had for Lindsey in his eyes the minute he walked through the door. I sat with her, but retelling the events went easier for her this time.
Darren exhibited anger and sadness that she had to go through such pain, but no judgment for her actions. Once I knew she would be alright, I kissed her cheek and headed for the airport.
I had conflicted thoughts about calling Ryan. He was still pretty angry when I left, so I decided to give him some time. I figured he would call me soon.
Once home, I leaned heavily on Char and Randy for support. They were both sure Ryan would come around, but as days passed, I wasn’t as confident.
Lindsey called to say her counseling was going well and although she had a lot to work through, she was happier than she ever believed possible. When I asked her about Ryan, she said he was civil but still distant when he picked up Melissa.
“Ryan loves you, Em. He will call you … or you should call him.”
“Thanks, Lindsey, he probably needs space right now. Please keep in touch and let me know how things are going with you and Darren.”
So much had happened between Ryan and me. I loved him, but now that Lindsey had agreed to divorce him, why hadn’t he called? Now that he had his freedom, did he want to keep it?
Char called and insisted we get together for lunch. I had been so depressed, I eagerly accepted her invitation.
I answered the door in a pair of old pants, a T-shirt, and my hair pulled back. “I’m ready to go,” I said. “Where did you want to eat?”
She stared at me and shook her head. “I don’t think so. You are not going out looking like that!”
“Why does it matter? We’re only going to lunch.” Char was wearing a long skirt, short-sleeve shirt, and sandals.
She sneered at me. “Go change into something nice. It will make you feel better. And put on some makeup. You look like a zombie!”
“Fine!” I gave in. “Pour yourself a glass of wine while I go find some more appropriate clothes, Your Highness,” I sarcastically joked.
Looking through my closet, I pulled out the dress I had worn to meet Ryan when we first met. I put it on and started to cry. Fuck it! I changed into my jeans, paired it with a long-sleeve blouse and, of course, my SJP heels. I combed my hair out and put on some lipstick and mascara. This would have to do.
“Better.” Char smiled at me. “Let’s go.”
“Glad you approve,” I replied, my voice oozing with sarcasm.
She pulled into the Dusty Boot.
“I would prefer we go somewhere else. This is where Ryan and I had our first date.”
“Nonsense. Are you never going to come here again because of Ryan? You’re being silly. Now let’s go.”
I was surprised at her insensitivity, but I suppose she was right. We were escorted to a table in the back of the restaurant, and Char immediately left for the ladies’ room.
I felt his hands on my shoulders as he bent down and whispered in my ear, “You are everything to me. I love you.”
I couldn’t turn around. The warmth of his hands, the sound of his voice as his breath tickled my neck, his words squeezing my heart made it hard for me to breathe. I remained silent and after a few moments, he let go of me and sat in the chair facing me.
“Say something,
Em, please. You hold my happiness in your hands. Please say something.”
“It’s been over a week, why?” I asked.
“You left with Lindsey. I know I was angry, but we needed to talk. I thought you would come back, but you didn’t. You and Lindsey, friends? It was a lot to take in. Lindsey’s confession, my guilt, everything. But you left. I thought you decided to run, to give up on us. I wouldn’t have blamed you.
“Melissa wanted me to call you, but I couldn’t. I was scared. I finally decided to call Charlotte. When I found out you’ve been waiting for me, I couldn’t believe it. We wasted all this time wanting each other but neither one of us doing anything about it.
“Tell me you love me, and I promise I will never let fear or pride, yours or mine, stand in our way ever again!”
“I love you,” I whispered.
Ryan scooped me up and carried me out to his truck. We went back to my house, back to our wall, back to where we belonged.
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Pull!” Randy shouted, and Bob released the clay pigeon.
John and Stan, Myla’s husband, stood at the grill, overseeing the steaks while Char, Myla, and I carried food to the table, chatting about our next boating excursion. I turned and waved to Darren and Lindsey as they relaxed by the pool, watching Stacy, Melissa, and Melony bat a beach ball back and forth.
Ryan walked up behind me and brushed my neck with sweet little butterfly kisses. “Happy Fourth of July, Mrs. Hayes. Is it time to eat yet?”
“Happy Fourth, Mr. Smith.” I smiled, hugging myself inwardly while wrapped in my husband’s arms.
The perfect man, the perfect day.
