“Kevin was having a nightmare. It was like he was asleep, but he wasn’t.”
“He did this to you?”
“It’s not what you think. Kevin has PTSD—”
“I don’t give a fuck what he has! If he thinks the Army was bad, wait until I get my hands on him!”
David is fired up. He hands me an ice pack as he puts on his jacket. I try to stop him by pulling him into me. He’s shaking. He hasn’t even seen my neck yet, which is covered by a scarf.
“Emily, don’t try to stop me. This feels like the fucking party all over again. I couldn’t do enough that night, and I won't let someone get away with hurting you again.”
“The party?”
“Yeah. Garrett’s party when we were younger.”
I cock my head and furrow my brow. I don’t know what he’s referring to. The party where I got sloppy drunk? I told him to never bring that up again.
“Oh, that party. I was so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. What he did to you was inexcusable.”
I rack my brain, trying to remember what he’s referring to. I remember having a little pain the next day, but I didn’t think much of it. There was a little dried blood on my thigh. But other than that…
“Wait, rewind. What the fuck happened to me?”
“You really don’t remember anything? Oh, Emily, I would never have kept it from you if I thought you didn’t know.”
“Kept what from me?”
“That night. I was searching everywhere for you. I walked in on Garrett raping you. I think he drugged you. He did it to get back at me and went for what mattered most to me in this world. I’m so sorry I ever brought you there.”
David is sobbing. I’ve never seen such strong emotions brewing within him, despite all he’s been through. The intense feelings boil over and flow from his eyes, unchecked. He hugs me so hard that he holds me up when my legs feel as though they are going to give out.
I don’t even know how to process this—going years without knowing you were raped. I almost feel like it's my fault. I definitely don't blame David.
I can't verbalize how I’m feeling, so he just holds me. We forget about Kevin and what he did to me for a moment. I don't know if I'm supposed to feel like a victim. I don't know if I'm allowed to feel like a victim, since I can't remember what happened. All I know is David never looked at me like I was broken or damaged goods.
“I just need some time, David. I don't know how I feel right now. Do you mind if I stay here for a few days?”
“This place is still your place too, Em.” He smiles at me. “Do you want me to come lay with you?”
“No, I think I just need to be alone right now,” I say as my shoulders fall forward, dread sitting heavily on top of them and weighing me down.
“Okay, Em. I’m only across the hall if you need me.”
“Thank you. And David… don't go after Kevin. Please, just let the police do their job.”
He takes off his jacket with a grumble, and I don’t leave the room until I see him nod.
* * *
David
I siton the couch and try to untangle my emotions. I’m angry for what Kevin has done to Emily, and if I could give him a chance to pick on someone his size, I would. I wouldn’t have been able to defend her before I got sober, but now I’m strong enough emotionally and physically to be the person she needs.
I am above the low bar she sets for her partners. Even at my worst, I could never raise a hand to Emily and cause her pain. I sigh. I did cause her pain, and in some ways, that emotional pain is harder to heal from. The bruises Kevin inflicted will fade, but the pain in her heart—which I caused by allowing her to carry my suffering—will linger forever.
I take a deep breath. Where would she be if she hadn’t stayed behind to be my support system? She held me up for so long that she couldn’t stand tall on her own when she needed to. I hear sobbing. I jump to my feet and run across the hall. I knock.
“Go away, David,” Emily says as she stifles her sobs.
I stand at her door for a moment. She’s pushing me away like she used to when we were younger, and those are the times she needed me the most. I risk her anger and open her door. She wipes at her face, trying to conceal her tears. I sit beside her, forcing her to move over.
“How did I let this happen?” I reach over and put my hand over her cheek. She winces.
“You didn’t. I did. Kevin did. But not you.” She leans into my hand.
“And the party…” My voice trails off as the memory of Emily under Garrett replays in my head. A turning point in my life. “I had no idea you didn’t know.” My words are hurried and I struggle to stay focused on her face over the images in my head. “I never would have kept that from you.”
“I know. I promise I don’t blame you for what happened to me. I was the one who wanted to go. It’s shitty, but it’s a part of the past. I have to let myself heal. From that, and this.” She points to her face and toward her stomach. She sniffles. “I clearly ignore red flags. At the party, with Kevin, and even with you.”
“Me?” I sigh.
“Yes, with you. There might as well have been a neon light above you that said heroin. I chose to ignore it and let you be you.”
Her words take bites out of my sobriety. The word alone is enough to make the veins of someone in recovery pulse. I had no idea how much she knew, and it explains the way her feelings changed for me over time. Why would she love a junkie?
I wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest. My heart beats in my ears as I struggle to calm myself. I bring myself into the moment, the way they taught us in rehab.
Think of one thing you can touch, hear, and see. I feel the warm skin of Emily. I hear the ticking of the clock. I see the terrible paint job we did on the wall behind her. The hammering heartbeat in my ears recedes, and the tunnel vision widens.
Being sober has left me with panic attacks I can’t soothe with drugs. Rehab taught me how to deal with things I couldn’t before, such as the nestled emotions of my family, feelings of inadequacy, and my anger. I can now be the person Emily needs me to be because I was a junkie. The irony is thick.
“Can I have some space, David?” she asks softly.
She goes to the bathroom, and I leave her room and go back to my own.
* * *