although nothing by themselves
together form an overbearing force
to which only the strongest dare to delve
A concrete power
strong in every way
Its duty in this world—
keep the rush of the monster at bay
This goes on
day in and day out
Seems so powerful
who would know, who would doubt
Nothing lasts forever
eventually, everything will wither
Even concrete has its breaking point
fighting will always declare a winner
I've been this basin for so long
fighting the turmoil from inside
Not wanting to admit that I was breaking
wanting just to shelter my pride
I've been silent all these years
while my insides slowly splinter
What was once a beautiful flower
has crumpled up and withered
The inner turmoil, just like the water
cannot stay trapped when it wants out
My flesh, as unbending as the concrete
Leaves breaking and cracking its only route
Once I'm broken, what will happen
Can the pieces be re-glued
Not knowing is so scary
Can my being be renewed?
THE WALLS ARE drab. And the paint is chipping. That reminds me . . .
My gaze drifted to my lap where my fingers rested. My manicure hadn’t survived the week well and looked much better the last time I had sat on this couch.
“Eva?” Doctor Christianson’s inquisitive voice pulled me back to her. I never did answer her question.
“I’m going to school for psychiatry.”
Her smile was inviting, probably why she was so successful. “Are you? Well, keep me in mind when you’re ready to intern. I'd love to give you a hand.” When I didn’t answer, she continued. “So, why psychiatry?”
It didn’t take me long to spit out my well-rehearsed answer. “I want to establish myself. By myself. I never want to have to depend on anyone.”
She crossed her legs in the opposite direction and stuck the cap of the pen between her teeth, but she didn’t offer anything, so I continued. “I want to have enough money to be able to pack up and run wherever, whenever, and make it on my own.”
“Sounds lonely.” She scratched something out on her canary pad.
Ew.
I stilled at her brashness, then my shoulders relaxed as I relented. “Excruciatingly.” I let out a puff of air, relieved at her lack of phoniness.
“So, why then? Why plan your life around being alone?”
I quirked a brow. “Jumping right in, huh?”
She shrugged. “I laid back the first session to ease you in. I can coddle you if you’d like. It’s your dime.”
Bitch.
I liked her. I was starting to get why Jace made sure I came here.
I sighed, silently promising myself to do this right. “The person who rapes—” I stopped short. The present tense of that word implied that it would happen again, and it wouldn’t. Ever. I cleared my throat. “The person who raped me is very close to my family. Too close, actually. I’ve never been able to get away from it.” I looked her straight in the eye. “Until now.”
“College,” she stated, enlightenment emerging behind her intuitive eyes.
“Yes. Away. And I don’t plan on having to be back in that situation any time soon.” I crossed my legs to the other side, pleased with my response.
“I can appreciate that. So this . . . family member?” She raised a questioning eyebrow at me, nudging her head forward.
“Practically,” I responded.
“This practically family member,” she continued, “has repeatedly raped you?”
Hearing the words from someone else was a punch to the insides. Even Jace never said it directly to me. It was so dirty, I instantly felt ashamed and exposed. Tugging the edges of my sweater closed, I crossed my arms over my chest. An internal metal gate came slamming down with a crash, and I flinched.
“Eva?” Doctor Christianson seemed ready to push at that reaction. I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to handle that.
“He . . .” Her face didn’t budge while I sought out the best words to explain what had been happening to me. She showed no signs of this subject matter intimidating her or making her feel uncomfortable. I suppose I should have felt more comforted by that, but the whole thing was making me feel ready to lose the small lunch I’d forced down.
“I guess you could say that, but he’s not entirely to blame.”
That earned a raised eyebrow. “Go on.”
“The first time, he—I . . .” I trailed off. I always hated this part. I wished more than anything I could go back and slap myself in the head for believing his damn lies.
Doctor Christianson placed her pad on the table beside her. “I’m not here to judge you, Eva. If it helps, think of it as though you’re talking to yourself. I’m merely a catalyst. The help you need to sort through your own head and make sense of what’s going on. This is all to help you help yourself.” Her eyes softened with a smile. “I’ll prod where I need when you get stuck, and I’ll ask you questions to try and help your process along, but this is going to be you. If you start thinking of it that way, I think it’ll be easier to open up. When I leave here, I’ve got my own laundry list of problems on my mind.”
Although I wanted to call her a bitch again over that last statement, she was right, and I appreciated what she was doing. This wouldn’t work if I clammed up at the part that mattered most.
“I agreed to it the first time.” My words were timid, cautious. “I was young and stupid, and he preyed on that. I was nervous to go to high school as a prude, and he was always around, and my sister—”
“Your sister?” Her eyebrows knitted together with her disruption.
I locked eyes with her. It was now or never. I’d gone this far. “My sister’s boyfriend—fiancé—is my rapist.” That tasted bitter as it left the pit of my stomach to ride my tongue on the way out, but contradictory because it was such a sweet release.
Doctor Christianson sucked in a breath, a lapse in her cool façade as she let that soak. “I see.”
I gulped, shame creeping along my skin, threatening to halt my words. But I couldn’t let it win. “Way back when, he had me convinced that this was what people did. Learned on one another.” I shivered at the memory, the familiar foolish feeling picking at the edges of my brain for entry. “I was so eager to avoid being made fun of that I fell for it.” I hung my head, feeling stupid. Who falls for something so blatantly abnormal?
Dr. Christianson seemed to melt with enlightenment, as though a door had just opened allowing her to see the light. “I know plenty of people who used someone else to learn, so-to-speak. There’s nothing wrong with you for believing him.”
“You do?” Pure shock engulfed me.
“Sure.” She smiled convincingly. “Kind of along the lines of a best friend’s pact that if you reach a certain age without getting married, you’ll wed each other. It’s perfectly normal, Eva. Don’t beat yourself up over that.”
Well, that was unexpected. I’d never thought of it that way. Now that I had, I couldn’t help the encroaching dread of realizing that this was why I had allowed him to do this to me repeatedly all of these years. Why I had kept silent. “I guess you’re right, but it was my sister’s boyfriend. I had no right going near him.” That was the only thing that would rectify that I had suffered all of these years for no reason.
The light now shone brightly in the doctor’s eyes, illuminating brilliance, in the hopes of making me understand her full meaning. “Did you go near him or did he go near you?”
I frowned. “I don't get your point.”
“Who approached whom?” She accentuated that last word.
I shrugged, not understanding where she was going.
“Well, he approached me, of course. I never would have thought to do that.”
“So he approached a young, naïve minor then? Is that what you’re telling me?” She raised her eyebrows. Not a question, but a nudge to get me to see the picture that was beginning to focus.
“Y—Yes,” I stuttered.
“And you have guilt because . . .” She let the question linger there.
“Because I betrayed my sister by saying yes.” Wasn’t that obvious?
“How did he convince you?”
Thinking back sent a nauseous roll through my stomach. “He said he knew I’d never kissed anyone. Told me Abby wouldn’t care,” I scoffed. “It was only supposed to be a kiss.” My voice lost its backbone, and I barely heard that last part.
“And he pushed to take it further?” she prodded, stern in her point.
I pursed my lips and nodded.
Her posture relaxed as though she had just finished pulling an impacted tooth. “That’s the most common thing victims of incest hear,” she revealed. “That they should experiment with one another. And it sounds like this guy is more like a brother than anything.” Her eyes softened, her true compassion for the delicate situation I found myself in making itself known. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Eva. Rape is rape. And a rapist will always throw guilt at their victim, make them doubt where the fault lies.”
This was all too much. I felt as though my entire life was a lie. I looked down at my lap and toyed with my nails, unsure of how to respond to this new information.
“Why haven’t you told anyone?” the doctor asked.
“They love him. They’d never believe me.” My voice was soft as I continued to process this new information.
“Do you hear what you just said to me?” The sharp tone of her voice brought me back to the present.
The strength of my voice built. “Trust me, you’re not the first to point out how illogical that sounds, but it’s true.”
Doctor Christianson paused, studying me. “I think since you lost faith in yourself, you assume that everyone else did as well.”
I sat up straighter. “You don’t understand. He’s a master manipulator. They all eat out of the palm of his hand—the same hand he has been touching me with for years.” I shivered, then in a condescending voice added, “The good ‘ol American boy-next-door would never be capable of anything like that. Plus, like I said, I agreed the first time. The bastard even made me say it out loud so there’d be no confusion. After that, I almost think he deluded himself into thinking I was a willing participant. But he’d always threaten our little secret getting out. Ours. Makes me sick.” I clutched my stomach.
Doctor Christianson analyzed my words with a nod. “I think step one is remembering your worth and trusting your family enough to let them know what’s been happening to you all these years. I’m sure you’ll find you suffered far too long when you could have just told them years ago and they would have had your back.” She sat forward in her chair, the wisdom of her experience shining in her eyes. “Be kind to yourself, Eva. What you’ve been through is significant, even if you’ve been convincing yourself for years that it isn’t.”
The burn of tears prickled in the corners of my eyes. I plucked a tissue from the table next to me and looked up to the ceiling, dabbing my duct. “I’ll try. Thank you.” I half-smiled, truly wanting to give it a fair shot. Everything she said made sense, brought with it a clarity that I was never able to see. It was like I had finally gotten the right prescription after being legally blind for so long.
“Good.” She relaxed back in her chair again and picked her pad back up, jotting something down. “Step two comes next and kind of goes hand-in-hand. I want you to tell anyone who will listen what happened to you. Build a support system and learn to lean on them. You’ll want as much encouragement as you can get, so leave out any negative nellies.”
“So leave out everyone then?” I blew out a small, sarcastic laugh, trying to lighten the heavy situation, but the good doctor wasn’t amused. I cleared my throat and put on a more serious face. “I have to tell them now. The bastard went and proposed. I can’t let her marry him no matter how scared I am of losing them.” I wrung the tissue between my nervous fingers.
Dr. Christianson raised a sassy brow, getting comfortable with our exchange. “Well, at least you’ve got that figured out.”
“Don’t get cute, Doc.” I wagged a warning finger. “I like you, and I’m glad I can talk to you, but let’s hold the sass for now. I think you’ve bitch-slapped me enough for one day.” I smiled, looking at her from the corner of my eye.
She smirked, the friendly gesture easing my remaining tension. “Very well.” Doctor Christianson glanced at the clock beside the door, then rose to her feet, chatting about when I should schedule my next appointment.
I didn’t expect it, but disappointment that our hour was up rushed in. I felt as though I could keep going and I didn’t want to lose that. I was a fickle bitch these days, and the good doctor might not find me so willing to share next week. I was about to ask her if I could see her again in a few days, co-pay be damned, when a set of familiar eyes stopped me in my tracks as my foot hit the threshold. “You?”
“You.” Drew smirked, a small indent forming right outside the edge of his mouth as his eyes danced with insight.
“Well, I guess you found out my dirty little secret.” I rocked back on my heels, embarrassed. I didn’t like to show weakness.
“As did you,” Drew stated the obvious.
I hadn’t thought of it that way. Comfort moved into my stomach, replacing the uneasy that had sat there a moment earlier.
He shrugged one shoulder. “To be honest, I’m just glad to know you aren’t really made of porcelain.” He smiled his friendly smile.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I rolled my eyes.
Doctor Christianson stood in the doorway with her clipboard, checking her watch. “You ready, Drew?”
“Coming, Doc.” He bounced up and made his way over. I stepped aside, allowing him into the threshold. Doctor Christianson held the door for him, but he paused in the entrance. His back was terse, unmoving. He turned back to me. “Hey, wanna wait around and grab a coffee or somethin’ after this? You can tell me all about your boo-boos, and I’ll tell you about mine?” I recognized that hopeful look. He wore it each encounter we had, and I was tired of being the one to squash it.
I bit my lip, contemplating his offer. I never spoke about my problems to anyone, but after unloading all that on the doctor, I didn’t feel done, and my next appointment seemed like it was an eternity away. Besides, it might be good to talk to someone who had issues as well and wouldn’t judge me. “Sure. There’s a coffee shop on the corner. I’ll meet you there when you’re finished.”
A slow brightness dawned on Drew’s face, and I thought that look suited him much better. “Sweet. Be there soon.” He walked past the doctor, who was wearing the faintest of smiles before she shut the door after him.
Guess that was the right answer.
With a lightness in my step, I fished around in my bag to switch the ringer back on my phone. As I made my way to the elevator, my mind replayed all that I had unburdened myself of in the visit, ping-ponging to what might be coming once I met with Drew as I clicked the button.
Damon: Just making sure we’re still clear and you haven’t forgotten what I said. I could always stop by and remind you if you need me to.
Chunks rose in my throat as any strength I had grown plummeted to the pit of my stomach. The fucker was careful enough to get his point across without saying anything incriminating. It was bad enough dealing with him in person, but now he was going to start taunting me when he wasn’t around, too?
I tossed the phone into my bag and wrapped my arms around my middle, ashamed that I was always so weak the second I was pushed. Something had to give.
THE BELL CHIMED, and the smell of freshly brewed caffeine danced its way toward me. It did its job of pepping me up a bit w
ithout even entering my bloodstream. After close to seventy-five laps around the block, second-guessing this meeting with Drew, I made a mental pact with myself not to let Damon’s text message get the better of me. And I came.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and looked to the left, searching the tables. Warmth met my cheekbones when my sights landed on Drew’s waiting gaze. Both hands were curled around an ivory ceramic mug, the tips of his dirty blond hair falling into his hazel eyes. The hazel eyes that practically danced with a hopeful promise.
The corner of his mouth rose in a half smile, and he nodded to the empty chair across from him. I smiled and bit the edge of my lip, a nervous flutter smacking me in the belly. I clutched at it as the realization hit me that I’d felt that. Felt something after being numb for so long. I stood before him, a lightheartedness washing over me at the prospect of some type of normal returning to my empty life.
“You came.” He wet his lips before a full smile complemented the sparkle in his eyes.
“I did.” I removed my coat and draped it over the back of the chair, then pulled it out and took a seat.
A peppy young waitress appeared, her blonde hair pulled back in a haphazard bun. She extracted a notepad from her trim waist and snapped her gum. “What can I get ya, hon?”
“Hazelnut coffee, please.”
“Sure thing.” She looked at Drew, a pink hue meeting her cheek. “You good, sugar?”
“For now. Thanks.” He winked, and her breathing ceased for an instant before she walked away, reminding me of why I’d referred to him as a runway model when we had first met.
He turned his sights back to me. “Now, where were we?” He adjusted himself, leaning farther across the table, locking his focus on mine.
“Right here.” I relaxed, grateful for a distraction from my normal heartbreak.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I wasn’t sure I would, either. I contemplated standing you up, but I didn’t want to disappoint Doctor Christianson.” My tone was clearly playful as I lightened the mood.
Breathe You (Pieces of Broken Book 2) Page 10
