I don’t say anything else. I just keep her tucked into me when she eventually starts to speak again, and I listen as she tells me how he chased her down, beat the shit out of her, and raped her. Hearing her tell me the hell he put her through is gut-wrenching. I don’t know how anyone could ever come out of something like that without an insane amount of damage. Knowing how violent he was with her makes me want to hide her away forever, but I can’t do that. So I lie here and cry for her. For everything that little shit took away from her.
“Were you going to press charges? Is that why you were talking to that detective?” I ask after a while.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I never planned on it, but then when I was packing I came across his card he had given me in the hospital. I guess I was more curious than anything,” she explains.
“After all of this, if he were still alive, do you think you would?”
“Would you think I was weak if I said no?”
“Baby, there’s nothing about you that I find weak,” I tell her. Of course I would want her to fight and press charges, but I’m not the one who was stripped of all my trust, so I understand the need to avoid it. Who’d want to go back and relive what she had to endure? She fights in her own quiet way. Most probably don’t even see it. I didn’t used to, but I do now.
I roll onto my back, and she shifts her head into the crook of my arm. “When did you start seeing a therapist?”
“A couple days after you came by to talk to me. I just . . . I was so miserable. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Kissing the top of her head, I tell her, “I’m glad you have someone you can talk to. You think it’s helping?”
“I think so. I mean, she’s helping me see things a little clearer. We’ve been focusing on my anxiety and pointing out my triggers. She wants me to put myself in situations that tend to make me panic. I’ve tried a couple of times, but it’s hard,” she says.
“It’s gonna be, but it’ll get easier, babe.”
“She wants me to stop taking my sleeping pills.”
I run my hand up her arm and around her shoulder, asking, “Are you going to?”
“I told her I wasn’t ready. She said she wouldn’t push it but that I should think about it.”
“I know you’re scared, but they’re just dreams.”
“Dreams that feel completely real. And stress always triggers all that stuff, and with everything that’s been going on . . . graduation, packing, the production . . .you. It was all too much.”
“I know. You don’t have to explain. I get it,” I tell her. “But what about New York?”
“What about it?”
Turning to look at her, I say, “You don’t have to give it up. I’ll go with you. It’s not a big deal. I was already planning on moving anyway.”
“What?” she questions, confused.
“It’s one of the main reasons why I replaced Michael with Max at the bar. I figured you’d be moving and there was no way I wasn’t going with you.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I didn’t want to stress you out. You had so much going on. I kept waiting for you to bring it up, but you never did, so I just started getting everything worked out on my end,” I tell her as she shakes her head.
“I had no idea.”
I let out a light laugh and say, “You didn’t think I’d let you leave without me, did you?”
“Honestly? I didn’t know. I didn’t bring it up because I was scared I would have to leave without you. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave you,” she admits. “But I’m going to stay here. I called Pacific Northwest Ballet. I had originally turned down their offer, but I called them when I left the airport, and the spot is still mine. I go in on Monday to sign all the papers.”
“You don’t have to do that. You can still have New York.”
“I’m not ready for it,” she says softly. “I thought I was, but I think I was just forcing it. To prove to myself that I could go there on my own and be okay. But I need to be here. This is my home, with you, Jase and Mark, and everything that I’m used to,” she tells me. “I want to get better, and I want to do that here where I have the support.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not saying no to New York, I’m just saying no for right now.”
I finally let go of her hand to cup her face before bringing her to my lips. She holds on to my wrists as I move my lips over hers, giving her only a couple long and slow kisses before pulling back, and saying, “I love you so much.”
She runs her hand behind my neck and whispers, “I love you too,” before our lips meet again. But before I can lose myself in her, she pulls away. “Oh my God,” she draws out.
“What’s wrong?”
“All of my stuff—everything—is already in New York. I’ve gotta call the landlord from my apartment there. I shipped everything last week.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of all that. Did you have luggage?” I ask.
“Yeah, I had already checked it,” she says with worry.
“I’ll call the airlines. Don’t stress about it. We’ll get everything shipped back,” I tell her, but I’m not letting her move back in with Kimber. I have her here with me, and I don’t want any more space between us, so I add, “But babe, when I arrange everything, I’m having it shipped here.”