by Claire Raye
“My parents just left me alone with a boy in their house. That was literally the number one rule growing up here. Ruby and I were not allowed to have boys over when our parents weren’t home.”
“I think they’ll make an exception this time. And I think your dad really likes me,” Adam teases, inflating his own ego. “Remember when I met him back when you moved in? We’re mates now.”
Despite our jokes, the tension in the situation floats below the surface, my head resting against Adam’s shoulder as we walk into the kitchen.
Adam sits down and I open the fridge taking out two bottles of water, setting them where Adam is sitting before I join him. I shift nervously in my chair, the humor from just seconds ago is gone and is now replaced with an unnerving feeling that buzzes between us.
We both know what I’m about to say will change our lives, our relationship and the way we see each other.
Adam reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. I feel the warmth of his touch and when he says my name, a desperation to his word, the tears slip from my eyes.
I’m not looking for him to feel sorry for me or to have an unnatural response to what I’m about to tell him based on my emotional state. I want his true feelings. I want this to be something we move past together, but I also know that might not be the case.
“Mila, talk to me, baby,” Adam murmurs now, his thumb stroking the inside of my wrist.
I want to ask him how things went back in Australia. I want him to know that his situation isn’t any less important than mine. I don’t know how to handle a relationship where we’re both processing trauma. He shared his heartbreaking story, and this isn’t me trying to one up him. I want to stay present in his grief and help him, but how can I when mine is still so raw too?
I swallow hard, steeling up the courage to say what I’ve now said more times than I ever thought I would. I always thought this secret would die with me. That if enough time went by, I’d move on, but keeping it bottled up only made things worse. It made it feel bigger with each passing day, until it became far too heavy to carry.
“I was raped at a party and that rape resulted in me getting pregnant,” I finally admit. This is the first time I’ve said it all out loud, having allowed myself to wallow in the words that weighed me down for so long. It was two-fold, the entire thing. It wasn’t just the rape. It wasn’t just the pregnancy and the subsequent abortion; it was all of it coming together to create the perfect storm.
Adam doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t pull his hand away. He doesn’t leave the room or let out a judgmental sigh and he never looks away from me.
“Come here,” he eventually says, calling me over with a tilt of his head.
I take the few steps, closing the distance between us, and Adam immediately reaches for me. His arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me into his lap.
“Mila, baby,” he now croons, taking my face in his hands. I’m struggling to look at him, to keep myself from completely breaking down. “You never have to hide anything from me no matter what it is. You will never struggle alone again.”
I can’t handle what he says. There’s so much simplicity in his words, so much truth that I can feel it surround me and I bury my face in his neck. Hot tears run down my cheeks, spilling onto his shirt as he shushes into my ear, his fingers stroking the back of my head.
It’s on the tip of my tongue, the thoughts form in my head wanting to spill out so badly. Does he see me differently now?
“I blamed myself,” I whisper. “I still sometimes blame myself, but I want to stop.”
“I blame myself too,” Adam admits, and he doesn’t have to go into detail.
He blames himself for the accident, for Rachel dying, for losing their baby and now for the accident we had. And we can both tell each other not to, but we know it’s easier said than done. We can’t just turn off the way we feel or how many times we replay what happened to us, reliving it to see what we could’ve done differently.
I could have not gone upstairs with him.
I could have left the party when Charlie did.
I could have chosen not to smoke weed.
I could have screamed when I knew I wasn’t safe.
But none of that changes what happened.
“What happened?” Adam now asks, and I pull back, looking at him and wondering if he really wants to know. He nods slightly, answering my silent question.
“I went upstairs with him because I did have every intention of hooking up with him, but when we got to his bedroom there were pictures of him with another girl. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to be the reason someone’s relationship ended or be the reason another girl felt shitty about herself, but when I tried to leave, he wouldn’t let me.”
I shrug, telling the story now as if it’s not my own, removing my feelings as if I’m preparing for the interview and deposition I know is coming. I shouldn’t be this way, and it’s obvious I’m still not ready to confront the emotions that go along with what happened. This is why working with Liz is still so critical. I’ve made progress, but this isn’t going to fix itself because I’ve finally decided to file charges against the guy who did this to me.
“I love you and I know you can’t tell me more and you don’t have to,” Adam says, taking my face in his hands. He recognizes my struggle and maybe that’s because he’s living it too. Talking about it feels too real, too raw and too heartbreaking.
“Does this change the way you feel about me?” I ask, strangely desperate for his answer, an answer that I feel like I should already know.
“Mila, no.” Adam shakes his head, his answer being forced home with every movement. “Does what happened to me change the way you feel about me?”
“Never. If anything, it makes me love you more.”
“Then you know how I feel too,” he replies, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
We sit here again, suspended in silence just holding each other, the closeness of our bodies comforting us. Just being here with him is exactly what I needed, and that divide we felt when we were trying to cope with our trauma on our own was just that: trying to cope on our own. We need each other. Apart we’re broken and lost, but together we find ourselves. We heal.
“I’m exhausted,” Adam finally says on a hard exhale. He just flew a ridiculous number of hours, across endless time zones and drove a quarter of the way through the state of California just to be here with me. Just to be here to support me.
“Tomorrow I have to meet with a lawyer, and I’ll be giving a statement to the police,” I pause, taking in a deep breath. “And I have to fill out paperwork to have my sexual assault kit results released.”
I close my eyes at the words, hating the way they sound. I wasn’t supposed to be the girl this happened to. My life before this was carefree and loose, never really worrying about anything other than where the next party was or if Charlie and I would have enough money to order pizza.
Things change quickly. Life moves too fast sometimes and I’m still having a hard time keeping up.
“I’ll be with you every step,” Adam says, and when I look into his eyes all I see is my future.
“My dad set me up with a lawyer and he’s already prepared me for what will probably happen,” I tell Adam and he looks at me with a questioning glance, unsure what I mean. “The guy who raped me is rich. Grew up in an incredibly wealthy family.”
Adam looks around my parents’ house and while yes, it’s big, it’s nothing in comparison. My attacker has the kind of money people dream of and that generally means one thing.
“Nothing is going to happen to him, is it?” Adam asks, his concern now turning to rage, his jaw clenched tightly at his own question.
“Probably not. I can push for a trial, but I’ll be presented with a settlement offer before that. It’s the reality of what happened to me.”
“I don’t want that to be the reality,” Adam bites back, trying to proc
ess the anger I was dealing with just hours earlier.
“At least his name will be out there.”
As much as I want him to be punished for what he’s done, I also need to realize the toll it will take on my mental health. I’m not certain I’m ready to have my face plastered everywhere, to have my name dragged through the mud and to have my reputation dissected and questioned. I need to look toward the future and how I can help other women like me. How I can take the stigma away from rape victims, something I’ve carried with me since the day it happened.
“Thank you,” I say, leaning forward to kiss Adam.
“I should be thanking you, Mila. You’re the reason I’m still here. You’re the reason I keep going.”
“Then we complement each other well,” I reply. “Because you’re the reason for everything I do.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Adam
My whole body vibrates. With anger, with sadness, with regret. With so much fucking sorrow. I can feel tears on my cheeks as I stand under the hot water, my mind trying to process everything that’s happened and everything that can’t be undone.
Even though I’d connected the dots. Even though my mind had taken me to the very place Mila admitted was true, I still hadn’t said it out loud. Hadn’t said the word that nearly gutted me just thinking about it.
Rape.
I have to bite down on my fist just to stop myself from screaming. This isn’t even about me. This is about her, about Mila, and all of the things she went through and all the pain she’s still dealing with now.
But it fucking guts me to know that I can’t take this away from her, that I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t protect her from it, because I didn’t even know her back then. That I wasn’t here when she started to face it all either, because once again, I’d left.
Fuck…it all just feels so fucking shit and unfair.
“Adam?”
I blink the tears away, sticking my head under the water as I scrub my hands over my face. “Yeah?”
I hear the door close. “I brought your bag in from the car.”
I turn around to find Mila standing in the bathroom, my bag in her hand and her eyes on me. “Are you sure it’s okay if I stay here?” I ask, knowing there’s not a chance in hell I’m going anywhere else tonight.
She smiles. “Yeah, I just called them, it’s cool.”
“Sure?” I ask again, knowing that I barely even know her parents, having only met her dad the one time. And with everything going on right now, maybe they don’t want me here.
“It’s okay,” she says, putting my bag on the floor as she reaches for the towel. “I think the rule has been given an exception,” she adds with a small smile.
I nod, switching off the water as I get out of the shower. Mila sits on the edge of the tub as I dry myself, neither of us saying anything. It feels like right now, we just have to be close to each other, that after everything we’ve gone through and all the time apart, neither of us can bear to let the other out of sight.
“Do you want anything to eat?” Mila asks as I pull on some sweats.
“I’m good,” I say, shaking my head. “I think I just really need some sleep.”
Mila nods as she takes my hand and leads me out of the bathroom and down a short hall to her bedroom. Inside, she closes the door behind us as I drop my bag on the floor and look around her room. “So, this is where you grew up, huh?”
She smiles as she moves closer, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind, her cheek resting between my shoulder blades. “Yep.”
“I like it,” I say, looking over my shoulder at her.
“Hmm,” she says with a small smirk. “Come on, come to bed.”
She tugs me over to the small double bed that’s pushed up against a wall and I watch as she pulls back the covers, gesturing for me to get in. I do, shuffling over as Mila pulls off her leggings and slides in after me, snuggling closer.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her against me as she presses her lips to my neck and murmurs, “I really missed you.”
I turn to her, brushing my lips across hers. “I missed you so much,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.”
“It’s okay,” she says, her words soft as she kisses me again. “It’s okay.”
When I wake up, I can tell it’s still early from the muted light coming through the half open blinds and the quietness of the house.
Mila lies on her side beside me, asleep, but with a look of peace on her face. I roll onto my side to face her, my arm slipping around her waist as I drink in the sight of her. I never thought it was possible to miss someone as much as I’ve missed her these past few weeks.
“You’re awake?” she whispers, her mouth curling into a smile even as her eyes stay closed.
I lean in and press my lips to hers. “So are you,” I say against her mouth.
“Mmm.”
I feel her hand on my back, her fingers as they splay across my skin, pulling me with her as she rolls onto her back and deepens our kiss. “Mila,” I moan, even as I feel myself start to get lost in her.
“Shhh.”
It’s enough to almost convince me, but not quite. Not when I know everything now; things that are impossible to ignore or forget. “Mila, baby, wait.”
“What?” she breathes out, as she breaks the kiss.
I meet her gaze, her beautiful brown eyes so dark in the early morning light. “I don’t…” I start, trailing off because I have no fucking clue how to even say this. “I don’t want to—”
“Stop,” she says, the word firm even as she puts her fingers to my lips, silencing me. “Don’t even go there.”
“But—”
“Please don’t compare what we have to that,” she whispers, her eyes wide as she stares across the small amount of space separating us. “We aren’t that; we never will be, and I can’t…”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper, fucking terrified because I have no idea what to say or how to act right now. I want her, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to, if any of this is going to scare her or hurt her or bring back memories or what. “I don’t want to—”
“You won’t and you never will,” she says. “Please don’t go there.”
I lean down and rest my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” she whispers back. “I love you and I need you and this.” She pauses, her hand curling into a tiny fist that thumps against my chest. “Us. We are not that, we never have been, we never will be.”
“I know,” I murmur, my eyes closing. “I know.”
“Kiss me,” she says, brushing her lips against mine again.
“Mila,” I groan, my mouth on hers, hungry and wanting more.
She pulls me closer, her hands on my skin, as mine slide under her t-shirt. She arches beneath me, pressing her body into mine as I push her t-shirt up and over her head. It feels so fucking good to be with her again, to feel the heat of her skin against mine, the touch of her fingers on my body.
We fumble the rest of our clothes off, trying to be quiet. Mila’s legs wrap around me, pulling me closer, deeper as I sink into her with a groan.
And just like the very first time we did this, we move together slowly, the intense connection we’ve always shared only growing stronger with every layer that gets peeled back, every secret we reveal to each other. I feel consumed by her, lost in this reconnection and this moment and everything she does to me; everything she means to me.
Her nails score my back as she clings to me, holding me close, her breath warm against my skin, her body hot beneath mine. Everything feels raw and exposed but exactly what both of us needs right now. I’m overwhelmed with everything I feel and everything I want, and I can feel it all mirrored back at me from her.
“I love you,” I whisper into her neck, as I feel her body tense around me before she falls over t
he edge, whispering my name as she pulls me right over with her.
We stay wrapped together in the stillness of her bedroom as we both come down from the high of being together again after so long, our hearts pounding against each other, our breathing rapid.
“Are you okay?”
Mila smiles against my neck, biting and sucking at the skin before she looks up at me. “Yes, I’m very okay. Are you?”
I nod, smiling down at her as I brush the hair back from her face. “Yeah, I am.” I roll onto my side, taking her with me, my arms still wrapped around her. “Are you ready for today?”
Mila shrugs. “I don’t know. At this point I think I just want to get everything done so I can finally start to move on.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I say, remembering feeling the exact same way as I sat on my twenty hour flight back to Australia. “Should we get up and go do that then?”
She smiles now, her hand on my cheek as she says, “Yes and in case I forget to say it later, thank you for being here.”
Breakfast with Mila’s parents is surprisingly relaxed given my sudden appearance on their doorstep last night and the knowledge of what she’s about to do today. Her dad is as nice and friendly as he was the first time I met him and her mum is welcoming and kind. Neither of them ask me questions about where I’ve been or what I’ve been dealing with, nor do they question why I’ve suddenly shown up here.
Both of them offer to come with us today, but Mila tells them not to, smiling at me as she explains she wants to do this herself. It’s hard not to admire her bravery in all of this and it’s impossible for me not to fall even more in love with her.
After we shower and dress, we head over to her lawyer’s office. I offer to drive, but Mila says no and as we get in the car, I realize this is her way of maintaining some level of control over what’s about to happen. With so much of it having been taken from her, this is something small that she can still hang on to.
The meeting with her lawyer and then the police officer is as brutal as I expect it to be. Even though it’s only a deposition and paperwork, it’s the first time I hear her story from start to finish in all its gritty detail. The first time I hear the name of the guy who did this to her and all the fucked up reasons why this will probably never go to trial.
