And so I did. I didn’t miss one detail, from the first time to the last one, just three weeks ago. The way I tried to fight him off. To stop him. How I’d changed, little by little, after each attack. Craig took pieces of my soul, until nothing was left. Until I became the plastic shell she’d seen plastered on Hollywood tabloids, flashing her nipple to the entire world.
Because I knew what I was.
Damaged goods.
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Hera flew up from the couch, walking over to her floor-to-ceiling window. She wasn’t crying anymore, but she looked wrecked.
“I wanted to.” I watched her back. “So many times. But each time I tried to speak to you, you were busy, or dismissive, or not available for me. You wanted nothing to do with me. I knew where I stood with you. You were ashamed of my dyslexia, with my lack of academic achievement. You didn’t want my averageness to rub off on you. You liked being completely separate entities. I never measured up to you. You were the shining star who burned everything in her path, and I was lost in your shadow.”
She turned around to me, wrapping her arms around herself. “How could I have missed this?”
“Easily,” I said tiredly. “Craig only showed one side of himself to you.”
She shook her head. “He had anger issues. I mean,does. He still has them. He broke one of Mom’s vases when we had a fight a while back. Another time, he kicked a friend of mine out of our apartment because she teased him about his SAT score. He’s been in therapy for a while now. Two, three years maybe? I thought he was doing better. I never imagined his hotheadedness could translate into…”
“Sexual violence?” I completed for her.
“Yes.”
Tears engulfed her eyes. She tried to fight them. After all, she was Hera, the wife of Zeus, the queen of all gods. Utterly untouchable.
“All this time, I stayed with him because I didn’t want to cause a headline. The public really loved that Craig and I were high school sweethearts, so I tried to push through with the relationship.” She sniffed. “So you didn’t make it all up to get back at me for that article?”
I closed my eyes, taking a breath. “Hera, I’m sorry to disappoint, but even though I’m not happy with the way my life has gone, I never wanted to be you. No offense, but it looks like you’re leading a pretty miserable life. You don’t give yourself any breathing room. You work yourself to the bone, exhaust your body with punishing workouts, and you always do whatever people expect of you, without any consideration for whatyouwant. I don’t actually think you’re even in love with Craig. I’ve seen you two together. It looks more like an arrangement of convenience than anything else. You want to be this perfect creature, but Hera…” I opened my eyes, smiling sadly. “The person you’re trying to be doesn’t exist. You’re killing yourself trying to become her.”
Her tears fell freely now, covering her cheeks. She collapsed on the floor. Her forehead touched the cool marble. Her back quivered with sobs.
“I made a horrible mistake marrying him.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I didn’t fail to notice how Hera was still focused onherlife,herdecisions,hermistakes,herheartache. Even though I was the one with the trauma. The one who’d been wronged. I supposed sympathy was too much to ask. Especially considering we were all on the brink of a national scandal.
As if reading my thoughts, she tilted her head and stared at me. “Your life’s going to change forever, too, you know.” She used the couch’s back to try to steady herself before standing upright. “As soon as the news breaks, everyone will know. Are you ready for that?”
“Ready? No.” I smiled, turning around and ambling to the door. “Prepared? Yes.”
The drive to the airport passed in contemplative silence.
Scrolling through names of L.A. based therapists on my phone, I clicked on the pictures of ones who looked friendly. All women. I couldn’t see myself pouring my heart out to a man after everything I’d been through.
Ransom looked grim and deep in thought. I was amazed he didn’t use the time to work on his phone.
“You sick or something?” I took a break from my therapist shopping.
He glanced at me, still a million miles away. “No.”
“You seem distracted.”
“Just thinking.”
“What about?”
His eyes clung to mine, the answer inside them. He was hiding something. I understood, I’d lived my life cloaked in secrets, too. Something deep and dark and dangerous.
“I’m trying to think how to put it into words.”
“You’re scaring me.”