by Claire Raye
We both have our demons, we’re both still avoiding what is holding us back and the longer it goes on, the less likely we’ll be able to build back each other’s trust.
I left my therapist appointment with Liz suggesting I bring Adam in with me and to tell him with her there. This is something she suggests to patients who are having trouble expressing their feelings. It provides a mediator and someone who has first-hand but an unbiased opinion.
It wasn’t like she said I had to bring him in the next time I came, but rather a suggestion for the future. We haven’t even really discussed mine and Adam’s relationship at therapy either. My first session was more about me and why it took me so long to admit I had been raped.
There are a million reasons why, but Liz tells me we don’t need reasons and I don’t need to give those reasons to anyone. She called it victim blaming to ask someone for a reason, and she told me to not let it deter me from telling my story.
So why is telling my story so hard?
Mine comes with more than a rape. It comes with an unwanted pregnancy. It comes with decisions and judgement. It comes with people thinking they know what’s right for everyone and what to do with a body that doesn’t belong to them. It comes with admitting I was not equipped to deal with trauma.
My wrist begins to vibrate, my watch signaling for me to get up and go to class. Strangely, throughout all of this, I’ve continued to go to class. It feels like stability and normalcy. It gives me focus and a reminder that my life won’t always feel like it’s out of control.
I slip from the bed, Adam still asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly, the white bedsheet lifting with each slow breath and I have no idea why, but a tear slides down my cheek. I just don’t know if we can survive all the secrets we keep.
An hour into my second class I get a text from Adam, and despite all the confusion, I can’t help but smile. He still makes me happy. He’s still the only person I want to see at the end of the day and the only person I’ve ever truly been in love with.
Adam: Don’t forget I’m taking you to get your cast and boot off today!
Me: How could I forget? I’m so excited that I’ll be able to get back to my full time job of cat burglar again. This boot really made that impossible. Thump, thump, thump.
Adam: I can’t believe you lasted this long. I’m pretty sure I would’ve had that thing off after just a few weeks.
Me: Not safe, Nurse Adam!
I’m glad that despite the weirdness I know is floating between us, we can still joke and laugh. It gives me a small glimmer of hope that we’ll make it through this.
I finish up my last class and hobble my way back across campus. My apartment isn’t far, maybe about a fifteen-minute walk, but with this boot I can always add a few extra minutes on. I swear my left leg is going to look like a bodybuilder after it’s done all the work hauling the booted leg around. My poor right leg is going to look like I’ve had Polio, all muscle loss and skinny.
I walk in to find Adam and Charlie sitting at the kitchen table with Josh, the three of them chatting and laughing and it almost feels normal. Like Adam isn’t hiding the fact that he has to go back to Australia and deal with his dead fiancée and that I’m not standing here acting like I wasn’t raped by a guy I knew.
This is a fucking mess.
“Hey!” Charlie calls out when I make my way over to the table. “Today is boot and cast amnesty day! We should celebrate.”
“Absolutely,” Josh chimes in and I laugh. He’s up for just about anything and something tells me if Charlie suggests it, he’s in.
“You sure you don’t just want to lay low tonight?” Adam asks, looking over at me with a hint of sadness in his eyes. It’s been a while since it was just the two of us, alone and without the confines of the cast and boot to stop us. Having his brother here has been great, but I know Adam feels guilty about not spending time with him and he’s also bogged down with guilt over leaving me after the accident. Josh’s timing probably wasn’t the best, but we need to make the most of it.
“I’m up for a quiet little celebration. We can order in, and Josh can fill us in on all the stupid shit Adam did as a kid. Maybe have a little wine and watch a movie,” I say, sounding far too much like Ruby at this point. Luckily Charlie doesn’t hit me with a what-the-fuck face and just goes with it.
I’m guessing her change in attitude about hitting up the bars or parties is partially because of the accident, but also because of Josh. As much as she likes to say she’s just having fun, and maybe that is all it is, she doesn’t want it to end.
“Can we order a bunch of American food?” Josh asks, and both Charlie and I look over at him, a brow raised in question as to what exactly American food is.
“Can you explain what you think American food is?” Charlie bites back, her nose wrinkled up and her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know. Stuff we don’t have in Oz,” Josh replies, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly and now looking at Adam for some assistance.
“S’mores, hot dogs and frying everything?” Adam says, also shrugging in response, a confused look on his face and I can’t decide if it’s because he legitimately doesn’t know what his brother is talking about or if he’s afraid Charlie and I will attack him for making fun of the shit Americans eat.
“Peanut butter and jam on bread, do you guys seriously eat that?” Josh now questions and Adam starts laughing, but now it’s Charlie and I who are giving him a look of confusion.
“You’ve never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?” Charlie asks, appalled. “It’s seriously only an American thing?” Her brows narrow further as she processes this anomaly.
“Taco Bell and Red Lobster?” Adam adds and it’s now beginning to feel like they’re mocking us.
“Red Lobster like from Happy Gilmore?” Josh quips, his eyes wide.
“You two can’t be serious,” Charlie laments, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Okay, so tonight we’ll be eating hot dogs, s’mores, fried…” she stops, looking over at me, chewing on her lip as she browses over the insane number of fried things we eat.
“Cheese,” I reply. “Mozzarella sticks.”
“Okay, and peanut butter and jelly, Taco Bell and Red Lobster,” she says, finishing off the list. “Anything else?”
“Twizzlers!” Adam shouts, smiling and enthusiastically bobbing his head up and down.
I quickly make note of everything in my phone, telling Charlie to order from Red Lobster and Taco Bell, and have it delivered, while Adam and I will pick up everything else on our way home from getting my cast and boot off.
The boot and cast removal are uneventful, everything healed up exactly as it should be. The doctor even told me I’m good to start exercising again. Adam had a million questions for him, like why I don’t need physical therapy and if I should really go back to normal activity immediately. But all is good based on my age and the fact that I was in good shape before the accident.
“So this is it,” I say as we walk out to the car. It feels really weird to be without my added parts that I carried around for the last six weeks.
“How’s it feel?”
“Pretty good, almost normal.”
“Well, let’s make it even more normal by going to pick up Josh’s buffet of American food,” he jokes, and I really want things to be normal for us, and not just because I got my cast and boot off.
When we arrive back at the apartment, Josh and Charlie are suspiciously absent. I look over at Adam who looks back over his shoulder at his apartment door.
“Guessing those two are over there doing something we haven’t done in six weeks,” Adam jokes, slipping an arm around my waist as he pulls me in for a kiss.
“How long do you think we have?” I ask, hesitating just a little. I feel myself holding back, worrying about what our reconnection will be like, but also worrying about how I will handle this all. It will be the first time since I finally admitted to myself I was
raped, and in the past, pushing it to the back of my mind was easier, it was like I wasn’t in my own body.
“With Josh, I’m guessing fifteen seconds.”
I slap his arm and glare at him. His teenage boy humor is a little funny, but it was a serious question. I don’t think I want our first time to be rushed and forced. I want it to be us connecting again, us remembering what it was like to give ourselves over to each other fully, to know what it was like to be intimate with someone I’m completely in love with.
Adam and I set the bags down on the counter in the kitchen, and with my hand in his, he leads me back to my bedroom. My heart is hammering in my chest, a nervous energy buzzing between us. There’s no way he doesn’t feel it too. And when my legs hit the back of the bed, his lips on mine, for the first time ever, I have a flashback to that night, in that bed, in that fraternity house.
I close my eyes willing it to stop, begging for it to go away and bury itself deep in the back of my brain where it resided for so long, but it doesn’t.
Adam’s body leans into mine in an attempt to get me to lie down on the bed, but my knees stay locked, my body now stiff in his arms.
It’s horrible and I pray I don’t start crying, that I don’t ruin this small moment we are about to have, but I know it’s too late.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Adam murmurs his lips now resting against my forehead.
“I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry,” I say, a pleading quality to my words, almost like I’m asking him not to say anything more, to act like this isn’t happening.
“Don’t be sorry,” he whispers, his fingers under my chin, tilting my face so I’m looking up at him. “You can talk to me. You can tell me anything. I promise.”
“I know and you can tell me anything too,” I say back, but something about my words causes him to step back slightly. He’s on edge now, worried.
“What’s that mean?” he responds defensively.
“It just means you can tell me anything too. I wasn’t—”
“You heard Josh and me, didn’t you? That’s what this is about.” He motions between us, not so much angry as he is hurt. Hurt that I didn’t say something sooner, and I’m guessing hurt that he kept it from me.
“It’s about a lot more than just that, Adam,” I whisper, even though I know now is not the time to have this conversation. I can only hope that we can finally admit to each other everything we’ve been hiding, but right when I feel like we’re nearing that point, the door to the apartment opens.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Adam
Mila stares up at me, a pleading desperation in her eyes that just about breaks my heart. I have no idea what the fuck is going on here, only that it’s so much more than her overhearing me and Josh arguing the other day. There’s something going on with her too, something much darker and way deeper than I’ve ever realized or been prepared to acknowledge.
I suck in a deep breath, willing this situation to somehow magically fix itself even though I know that’s not going to happen. This isn’t going to be a quick or easy fix and deep down, a part of me worries that it’s not something we can fix at all.
“We can’t have this conversation right now,” I force out on an exhale.
“I know,” she replies with a nod as she looks down at her feet.
I step closer, hesitating a little because I’m not even sure she wants me to touch her right now. “I want to,” I say quietly. “I want to talk about everything, Mila. No more secrets, no more…”
She licks her lips, looking up at me with glassy eyes. “Me too,” she whispers.
I nod once, about to turn away and head back to the living room when she stops me, her hand on my chest, my heart pounding beneath her touch. I cover it with mine, meeting her gaze as a single tear falls from her eyes, which are now filled with so much sadness, as though everything I’m feeling mirrors what’s going on with her.
“I love you, you know that, right?” I ask, brushing her tear away with my thumb.
“I do,” she replies. “And I love you.”
“I know,” I tell her, forcing a smile.
Mila steps closer, pushing up on her toes as she brushes her lips against mine. “I’m sorry.”
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m sorry too. I don’t want to lose you, Mila. I don’t want—”
“Neither do I,” she says, her words muffled against my chest, her fingers digging into my back as though she’s scared to let me go, even now.
I run my hands up and down her back, pulling her even closer. “I’m here for you, no matter what it is or how bad you think it is, I’m here. I promise.”
Mila nods against my chest but says nothing and all I can do is lean down and press a lingering kiss to the top of her head before we both let go and join the others in the living room.
Our night is quiet, the four of us spending it eating, having a few drinks and watching a couple of movies. For the most part, things between Mila and me look normal, but I know both of us can tell they are anything but. I have no idea what happens next or how we move forward. It feels like we are stuck in some sort of limbo, driven by secrets and fear, with both of us too scared to jump first.
Josh yawns loudly, stretching his arms above his head as he says, “Man, I’m knackered, I might hit the sack.”
Almost immediately, Charlie fakes a yawn, mumbling, “Me too,” and making Mila laugh.
“Oh my god,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to be subtle about it.”
“What?” Josh asks, a look of pretend confusion on his face.
“This,” I say, waving a finger between him and Charlie. “We all know what’s going on here.”
Josh stands up, grabbing the keys to my apartment from the coffee table. “Dunno what you’re talking about, bro,” he says, turning to smile at Mila and then Charlie. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed, front door will be left unlocked for the next five minutes, see you all tomorrow.” With that, he throws a hand up in a wave and then walks out, closing the door behind him. Mila and I both turn to Charlie, who’s looking at us with an embarrassed look on her face, her cheeks flushed.
“I think that was your cue,” I say, giving her a grin.
She scrubs a hand down her face, groaning as she shakes her head in embarrassment. “Does it bother you that I’m going over there?” she asks, looking at me from behind her fingers.
I stand, shaking my head as I let out a small laugh. “Not at all, Charlie. As long as you’re both having fun, I’m totally cool with it.” I walk over and bend down, kissing the top of her head. “Goodnight.”
As I walk past Mila, I press a lingering kiss to her temple before disappearing into the bathroom to take a quick shower. I’m out and brushing my teeth when the bathroom door opens and Mila walks in.
“She’s gone over there,” she says, meeting my eyes in the mirror.
I spit out the toothpaste, rinsing my mouth with water, my eyes on Mila, who stands behind me. “Good for her,” I reply, dropping my toothbrush into the holder. “I’ll let you take a shower.”
I walk out of the bathroom, leaving Mila to get undressed, everything about this moment feeling weird and wrong and awkward as fuck. I’d thought the second her cast and boot were off, we’d be all over each other, reconnecting in ways we haven’t been able to do since before the accident.
But none of that has happened and as hurt as I am that she pushed me away earlier, I also know it’s totally fucking selfish of me to just expect we’d suddenly go back to normal. That after all this time and all the things that have happened between us, it would somehow just be fixed when Mila’s injuries were healed.
If anything, it’s only gotten worse.
I grab some boxers, pulling them on as I slide into bed to wait for Mila. I feel strange, lying here, waiting for her to come in but not knowing what’s going to happen when she does. I need to distract myself, ma
ke it not look as though I’m waiting, so I grab my book from the side table and start to read.
I’ve re-read the same page five times by the time Mila finally comes in, wrapped in a towel, which she drops before reaching for a tank and undies. I try to act like I’m not watching her, even though I have one eye on the page and one on her.
Eventually she crawls into bed, sliding closer as I lift my arm so she can slip underneath it, her head now resting on my shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, so I just keep reading, savoring the warmth of her body against me, her legs entangled with mine now she’s finally free of the boot. I drop a kiss to the top of her head but don’t say anything, just continue to read as I wait for her to say something.
I feel her take a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she says, “I think you should go back with Josh.”
“What?” I blurt out, dropping my book as I turn to her, my heart hammering in my chest at her words.
She props herself up on my chest as she looks right at me. “You should go back.”
I swallow hard, suddenly feeling like I’m going to throw up. “Fuck, Mila, are you breaking up with me?”
Mila shakes her head. “No.”
“Then what…what are you saying right now.”
She slides closer, her hand cupping my cheek, fingers brushing against the couple of days of stubble I have. “I did hear you two talking,” she admits. “I heard what’s happening with Rachel’s family.”
“Mila…”
“No, wait,” she says, resting her fingers against my lips as she takes a deep breath, her eyes searching mine. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through back in Australia,” she starts, looking down as her fingers trace the scar across my chest. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt, how much it still hurts, but I know why you ran, and I know why you’re afraid to go back there.”
I shake my head, speaking over her as I say, “I don’t want to leave you.”
