With a loud gasp, I shoot up out of a dead sleep. My breath kicks out hard in sheer panic as my eyes dart around the room, petrified I’m still trapped beneath Liam. The pounding inside my chest rattles me, and I quietly weep when I realize I’m safe in my bed, that it was only a dream—a nightmare.
But it hadn’t been. It happened. I had been trapped beneath him. His hands had been on me, and I hadn’t even been given the chance to say no, to attempt to fight him off me. He had full access to my entire body, and there hadn’t been a single thing I could have done to stop him.
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I curl into myself as I run my fingers through my hair and along my damp scalp. My whole body is sheened in a cold sweat. I pick up my cell that’s lying next to me on the bed and find a missed call from Kason and a text from Micah.
I scoot back on the bed as my heart rate starts to slow to a normal succession of beats and look out the window. The same window I used to spend countless hours watching Kason as he worked down below. He’s no longer down there, and I’m no longer pining after the next moment I’ll be able to be with him. Instead, I avoid. I avoid him the same way I avoid everything else.
I keep myself hidden away, ditching class after class, too terrified I’ll see Liam on campus. Instead, knowing my mother is always at work, I come over here and sleep through the day to escape Liam’s hunting ground and Lana’s questioning.
She sees me at night when I return to the dorms, but I don’t sleep. I never sleep in the darkness for fear of what it might hold for me, and Lana refuses to leave the bathroom light on. So, I stay up, haunted by my own imagination and use my phone as my personal nightlight. Nights are the worst, and they feel never-ending. It’s as if I’m a prisoner waiting for a death sentence to be overturned the way I wait for daybreak. And when it comes, I’m already dead. Exhausted and weighed down in misery, I drag myself out of bed, only to crawl into this one and wait for the security of the sun to rise before I finally rest.
But even that’s becoming a feat.
Recently, I’ve been plagued with bad dreams. Re-creations of what might have happened that night. Different scenarios terrorize me in my sleep until I wake, scared and in tears. The immediate aftershocks have me wishing for Kason’s arms to make me feel better, but once I’m calmed down, the realization hits that I can’t run to him anymore. He’s well aware that something is very wrong, and that awareness has driven a wedge between us.
He used to question me, which only brought about fights. Recently, those questions have subsided and have been replaced by worrisome looks that only serve as a reminder that I’m a liar, that I’m a disgrace, that I’m no longer clean and good. Those looks inflict pain that I can’t endure any more, and for that, I do my best to keep him at a distance.
After a few more calming breaths, I open my texts to help distract myself.
Micah: One more month . . .
Me: Until???
Micah: Until I can see you again. Thanksgiving break!
Me: I can’t wait.
There’s something so refreshing about Micah that makes me excited to text with him and talk when he calls. He’s entirely detached from the horror of this whole situation. I think it’s because there’s a level of separation with him being in Miami, and for a moment, I can pretend that I’m normal again.
Micah: How’s school?
Me: Blah.
Micah: That lame?
Me: Pretty much. Tell me something exciting.
I step out of bed and walk into the bathroom to fix my hair before I go downstairs. My mom and I are hanging out tonight, and even though I lied away this afternoon of sleep by telling her I was up all night working on a midterm paper, I don’t need her to see me looking any more worn down than I already am.
Micah: I registered for a surfing competition. It’s going down next month.
Me: Are you serious? That’s great. Where is it?
Micah: Deerfield Beach. It’s just south of Boca Raton. You should come!
Me: Yeah, maybe. I’ll have to let you know, but that sounds awesome.
The doorbell rings, and I wonder who could be here as I tie my long hair back in a ponytail.
Micah: I’m running into the gym. I’ll call you when I have more time to talk. BTW, Trent says hi.
Me: Sounds good. Tell him I said hi, too! Miss you guys!
I finish freshening up, and when I start making my way downstairs, I hear Kason’s voice. I hit the last step and look across the house to find him and my mother talking in the living room.
“Well, there you are,” she announces as I walk into the room. “That was a long nap you took.”
Ignoring my mother, I stare in curiosity at Kason. “What are you doing here?”
There’s disappointment in his eyes when he hears my hint of annoyance. “Your mom invited me.”
“Is everything okay?”
I look over to my mom, who’s looking a tad confused about my lack of happiness to see Kason, and only then do I realize my mistake and paste on a smile. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I just woke up and am still a little groggy.”
Kason stands and takes this opportunity to hug me. He knows I won’t push him away with my mom watching. “Hey, babe,” he murmurs, and I close my eyes, sinking into the warmth of his embrace, missing the days when everything was so comfortable between us. In this rare moment, I actually hug him back, because I miss him. I miss him so much.
“You need to get on a better schedule and stop pulling so many all-nighters,” my mom says, and when I open my eyes and look over Kason’s shoulder, I see her walking into the kitchen. “You could’ve just worked on that paper today.”
Kason gives me a knowing look. “Paper?”
“Don’t,” I whisper, needing him not to tip my mother off about my not attending classes. His knowing is bad enough, but there was no lying my way out of it when he confronted me. After all, it was his friend, Rhett, who had told him I haven’t been showing up to the English class we share.
I’m on edge as the day goes on, worried that one slip is all it will take to make my mother suspicious. When it’s just the two of us, I’m in control and I pick and choose my words wisely. With Kason here, I’m fearful he might say something. My anxiety is sky high, but I manage to get through dinner unscathed.
When night falls, my mom grabs her wine glass and we all head out back to the fire pit. It’s excruciating, waiting for her to ask me something I can’t lie through, anticipating her asking Kason something he won’t lie through. But pretty soon, I know I’m in the clear when my mom says, “Well, I think I’ll let the two of you spend some time together.”
“You don’t have to run off, Mom.”
“Don’t be silly. I know the two of you are pressed for alone time.”
She’s right. With Kason’s full-time load at school and his job at the law firm, he barely has time to come up for air, which serves my need for distance. Still, I have to wonder what my vacancy is doing to him and his needs. Guilt strikes hard when I think about what he must be going through, knowing how badly he struggles in silence. I can’t bring myself to ask because it’s just another thing I can’t face. I don’t want to know that he’s suffering because of me. But how can I take care of him when every time he touches me I feel dirty?
I’m stuck because Kason is so highly sexual, and I just can’t be that for him anymore. It isn’t just something he wants, it’s something he needs. He can’t function without it.
“Adaline?”
Slowly, I drag my eyes away from the door my mom disappeared through and force myself to look at him.
He stands and holds his hand out to me, and when I take it, he says, “Will you lie in the hammock with me?”
“Kason . . .”
“Please don’t tell me no.”
Already regretting how much I’ve let him down, I give in. He holds my hand, and when we lie down and he has me in his arms, I’m reminded of the countless nights we’ve spent lying under this very moon. A moon that has watched us fall in love and has listened to our most tender words spoken.
“God, I’ve missed this.” He breathes the words as he gathers me closer, and I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. All I’m doing is hurting him at this point.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over?”
“You would’ve pushed me away.”
I look at the stars and start making wishes, hedging my bets in case my prayers go unanswered. But each wish feels like a waste of time when heartbreak is written in the very light the stars are casting down on us. Maybe my soul is too heavy of a burden and is beyond saving or repairing. Maybe I’m a lost cause.
“Maybe you’d be better off if you’d just let me go.” The words simply fall from my lips, and I feel numb.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you aren’t happy anymore, and it’s all my fault.” The moon swims into a blur through the tears that flood my eyes.
He shifts onto his side and stares down at me with so much torment, and I can’t recall the last time we were this close. “I never even knew what happiness was until you. You defined it into existence for me.”
“But it’s gone.”
“It isn’t.” He drags his thumb over the crest of my tear-stained cheek before dropping his hand over my depleted heart. “It’s right here.”
I shake my head because he’s denying my words and trying to make me believe we can survive this. But I feel it in my bones . . . the hopelessness.
“Let me back in,” he pleads.
“I don’t know how.” My voice cracks under my honesty. Breaks under the painful truth. If he only knew that, along with everything Liam stole from me that night, he also took my strength, leaving me weak and powerless. All I want to do is give up. Give up on everything because the fight is too much for me to take on.
“I’ll help you. I swear to you, whatever this is, I’ll help you through it. But you have to let me try.”
“Maybe we aren’t meant to be.”
His head falls to mine with a painful exhale that forces him to choke on his words when he says, “God, don’t say that.” He holds my face tightly, and when I slip my hands around his arms, every muscle is flexed in tension. “I need you, Adaline. I don’t think you understand how much I love you.”
“But what if love isn’t enough?”
“I’m not letting you slip away.”
I wish he would. Maybe then we wouldn’t have to suffer within the entanglement of our love.
“Is it me?” he questions, pulling back from me. “Are my issues too much?”
The truth is yes. His addiction terrifies me. I know it isn’t his fault and he can’t control it, but all I want, all I need, is unconditional emotional support and nothing physical. It’s a reality that doesn’t exist for him, and I hate it. I hate that he can’t be strong enough for me right now. He’s suffered through so much, I’m not about to throw his addiction in his face, so I shake my head. “It’s just everything,” I tell him vaguely.
“That isn’t enough. That tells me nothing. How can I fix this if you won’t even tell me what’s broken? You have me standing on the edge of a moment that’s slipping away. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you have any idea what it’s like having to watch you slowly unlove me? Adaline, it’s killing me.”
What do I do? My truth will only deepen his pain. He’ll be so mad at me, and he has every right to be. I was stupid and put myself in that horrible situation. I did everything wrong that night. It’s my fault this happened, and I blame myself enough for the both of us.
How do I turn my back on him when I love him so much? And even though he says he loves me, I’m no longer the me he knows. I’m different—changed forever—I’m not the same girl he fell in love with. I can’t stomach the thought of him knowing how damaged I now am. That I’m defiled in the permanent grime of another man because of my bad choices.
I’ll never forgive myself for this.