I put on a pot of tea knowing very well I probably won’t drink it. But I need something to do while I figure out how to say what I need to say. He turns off his phone, we make eye contact, and he nods, signaling he’s okay with cutting himself off from the world for a little while. When the water is ready, I pour it into two mugs and add a spearmint teabag to each. He sits on one of the barstools at the counter; I sit on the other.

Shit. I have no idea where to start.

“You can start anywhere, babe,” he says as if hearing my thoughts.

“Okay…”

Silence.

Jesus, help me.

“How did you meet Danny?” he asks softly.

Thank you.

“I met Danny three years ago. I was taking a class in grant writing because we couldn’t really afford to hire a grant writer for the center. I thought I’d give it a try. The first day of class, everyone had years of experience and I was already behind. I felt like such a loser. And I wanted to pick myself up, so I went to a movie. The movie sucked and I left early, and I met Danny coming out of the same movie. He said I looked as disappointed as he felt. We started talking about the awful movie and then we got a cup of coffee next door. He was kind and sweet. He said I was different and that he liked that.

“That night we met, I noted how he would compliment me but then take it away. It was strange. He’d say, ‘Winter, you have pretty eyes,’ but then ten minutes later he’d ask if I ever thought of wearing color contacts. During the whole first encounter, he would give a little but then take a little back. I thought it was kind of a fun game, you know?

“He’d tell me I was pretty and but then he’d make the waitress take away the dinner rolls on the table because he didn’t want me gaining weight. He’d bring flowers but then make fun of me for not having enough money to buy a fancy vase to put them in. He liked to put me down whenever he could so that he could build me back up. When I pointed that out, he’d say I was oversensitive.

“We had an argument once and he said he finally understood why no one wanted to adopt me when I was a kid. He said that I was difficult and that it was hard to love me. I broke up with him right then and there. But he begged for forgiveness. He said he was just lashing out and that he loved me. And I took him back because I didn’t think I could do better. And I didn’t want to be alone.

“We made up and broke up several times and each time I’d take him back because I thought I could change him. I thought if I loved him hard enough, he’d eventually be kind to me. And I held on to him because he made me believe that I only mattered so long as he was with me.

“I love my family but the fact that my parents broke up a year after adopting me always made me feel like it was my fault. And he knew that. So every time I’d try to leave him, he’d say ‘Winnie, we’re a family unit, don’t break us up.’ It always worked. I always came back to him. I found out he was cheating on me with some girl from his gym, and I vowed never to talk to him again. But he convinced me that if I had been a better girlfriend, he never would have cheated. I was such an idiot. I ended up apologizing for him cheating. I begged him to let me try harder to be a better girlfriend.”

“Christ.” Wyatt swears under his breath as he angrily shakes his head. I’m not sure if he’s pissed at Danny or me or both. I can’t think about that now. I take a sip of the tea, but when it hits my stomach it’s already cold. It doesn’t matter. I need to continue so I can get it over with.

“After the girl in the gym, there was some other girl from his job at the security firm, I think. Anyway, I rededicated myself to making our relationship work. I wanted to please him and make him love me the way I loved him. He said one way to do that was to loosen up in the bedroom.

He wanted to tie me and stuff like that. He kept hounding me about it. He swore if I didn’t give him the kind of sex life he wanted, he’d be forced to look elsewhere. So for his birthday, I did the bondage things he wanted and some role playing stuff. I thought that was the end of it.”

“Did he want you to make it an everyday thing?” Wyatt asks, unable to get the anger out of his voice.

“No, he dropped the subject. I was surprised, yet relieved. I thought we were getting better as a couple. Jana and my sister tried to warn me that Danny was and would always be a sadistic asshole, but I couldn’t see it. I didn’t want to.”

“What made you change your mind about him?” Wyatt asks.

“We went to a Christmas party given by a friend of a friend of his. I had a headache and I wanted to stay home, but he said I was being selfish and ruining his good time. So, I got out of bed and went along. The party was loud, lots of drinking and music. My head was pounding even worse by the end of the night; I had to lay down in one of the guest bedrooms.

“I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up there was some drunk guy coming towards me. He said my lips were pretty and he’d love to try them. He grabbed my face and kissed me. I shoved him out of the way. He was so drunk, he rolled off the bed and down to the floor. He yanked on my foot and I fell to the floor alongside him. I tried to get away and he grabbed me and tore my blouse.”

“Baby,” he says with profound sadness as he takes my hand in his. “Did he rape you?”

“No, Danny came in just in time to stop it. But he accused me of leading the guy on. He said that I did something to get the guy aroused and he said it was my way of embarrassing him because I didn’t want to come to the party in the first place. I had enough of him at that point and I broke up with him. He thought he could get me back but I was finally done. I was finally awake enough to see how stupid I had been.”

“And he didn’t take well to you leaving,” he says bitterly.

“No, he didn’t. He had secretly videotaped us when we had sex on his birthday. He taped the bondage and the role-playing, he taped everything. When he saw that I was truly done with him, he wanted to get back at me, so he…he emailed the video to every one of my contacts, my mom, my dad, my sister…everyone. Everyone.” I burst into tears. He quickly reaches out for me and I sob into his chest.

“Wyatt, there were parents on the email list, kids I kept in contact with in case they needed me. I almost lost the center. My parents couldn’t look at me for months. It was my fault. It was all my fault; I let him twist and bend me like a stupid rag doll. I let love make me weak.”

“Baby, that wasn’t love. That was evil. Plain and simple,” he says as he strokes my hair.

“I promised I would never trust anyone like that again. He destroyed me. He was the first and only guy I’ve ever slept with and he…he destroyed me. How can I ever trust a man again? How? I want to, I do. But I don’t know how. Tell me, how?”

***

While she’s telling me her story, I think of all the ways I could kill and torture this Danny guy. I like the scenario where he’s on the floor begging for mercy as I crack his ribs in two, to start. I don’t need fancy torture devices; I just need ten minutes with him. That’s all I need, ten minutes. As she’s talking I see her in my mind’s eye begging this asshole to love her back, this piece of shit guy who doesn’t deserve to live. Finding him won’t be hard at all…

Focus on her. She needs you now.

I hold her against me and try to remember that I’m a cop. And yeah, I’ve got a few bodies on me, but it was all in the line of duty. But I don’t care. Not today. I just want ten minutes…

“Wyatt, I know you can find him, but please, don’t. Okay? Please. Please,” she says as she pulls out of my embrace.

FUCK!

“Baby, what he did to you—”

“I know but please, just let it go,” she says as she wraps her arms around me. I hold her as tightly as I can without hurting her. She’s the only person that could get me to calm my rage because the only thing I want more than to kill that bastard is for my girl to be okay.

Please, God, let her be okay.

“Okay, I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“It was my fault. I had so many chances to see who he was and I didn’t want to. I let him have control over me, how could I have been so weak for so long? I really thought I could trust him. But I was so wrong. I was wrong and everyone in my life got front-row seats to the most private moments of my life. What was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I brave enough to stand up to him? Why did I stay? Why did I let him take everything away from me?” She begs as wave after wave of heart-wrenching sobs overtake her. She’s shaking as tears stream down her face.

I sit her down on the sofa and kneel down low enough to look up at her. I take her face in my hands. “What can I do, baby? Tell me. What can I do?” I beg.

“I’ve never said this stuff out loud or told anyone. Is it okay if I just cry for a little while? Let me cry. Can you do that?” she whispers. I swallow the lump in my throat and although it goes against everything in me, I sit beside her, cradle her in my arms, and let her cry. I let her do it because it’s what she needs. I listen to her go to the very darkest places in her memory and weep openly. Sometimes her cries are loud wails of regret. Other times they are soft moans of the betrayed. And for the first time in my life I truly understand just how courageous women really are…