Dad is rearranging clutter in his pick-up as I sit on the front bench seat leaning my head against the window. I watch Gabe standing outside the entrance to the hospital, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, his shoulders hung in defeat, as he just stares at us. I think he mouths the words ‘I love you’ to me, but I lower my eyes and pretend to not see him. I don’t know why I’m pushing him away. He is and has always been everything I have ever wanted or needed.

“Hungry kiddo?” my dad asks. “You need to eat something,” he says, seemingly concerned for the first time in his life. Funny that it’s food and eating that he’s concerned with. I shrug my shoulders, knowing that nothing will help the sick feeling in my stomach. Today is a gloomy, overcast day. The sky is full of dark, ominous clouds, much like my mood.

“Can we just go home? You can pick up food later, okay? I’m just really tired.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Walking into our house, I drop my bag by the front door and kick off my flip-flops. Walking down the hallway towards my room, I peel off my jacket and toss it on my bedroom floor, kicking my door shut behind me. I toss myself onto my bed, and I gasp, realizing how badly my ribs hurt. I gently pull my chenille blanket over me, and for the first time, I feel like I might be able to sleep.

I jump when I hear the doorbell ring. Forcing myself to sit up, I notice I am drenched in sweat. Slowly shifting to get out of bed, I hear a light knock at my door.

“Can I come in?” Dad says.

“Yes.”

“This was just returned to you,” he says, handing me my phone. “They, ah, had to keep it last night to go through it, check it for evidence.”

I take the phone from his hand and wipe some dirt off the front of it. I push the little round button at the bottom and unlock the screen, seeing that I have multiple notifications for e-mails and text messages. I toss the phone over to my bed, not ready for contact with the outside world just yet.

“I think I’m finally hungry, can you pick up some Chinese?” I ask.

“Of course. Anything in particular you want?”

“I would love some Kung-Pao shrimp.” A small smile crosses my dad’s face.

“Anything you want. Do you want me to invite Gabe over?” I don’t even hesitate when I answer him.

“How about just you and I tonight, Dad?” He nods, but looks at me questioningly.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

I hear him grabbing his keys, and locking the front door before I hear the rumble of his truck taking off down the street. Realizing for the first time that I have not showered since yesterday morning, I know I have traces of that man on my body. Stripping myself of all my clothes, I move as quickly as I can into the bathroom turning the water on as hot as it’ll go.

I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth. I then pull out some mouthwash out from underneath the sink. Swishing a huge mouthful around, I let it sting the insides of my mouth before spitting it into the sink. The bathroom is filling with steam as I step into the shower. Turning it down just a little, it’s to the point where I can just barely tolerate the heat. Letting the water run down my head, my face, and my body, I grab my loofah and pour body wash all over it, frantically washing my body.

I want all traces of last night off of me. I scrub my face, my arms, my legs, and stomach. I drop the loofah to the floor of the shower and grab my body wash, squirting some in my hand. I lower my hand, between my legs and gently rub the scented soap between my legs. I’m sore, and for the first time, I realize how violated my body is. No one other than Gabe has left his mark on me, and here I feel where another man has been, uninvited.

Finishing my shower, I wrap a large bath towel around myself. Walking to my bed, I reach for my dirt covered cell phone. Opening the main screen, I open my text messages and text Gabe.

I need you. Please come over.

Drying myself, I wait impatiently to see if he’ll respond. It must not have even been a minute that I sent that text message, but I hear Gabe unlock the front door, close it, and re-lock it. The sounds of his heavy footsteps are just outside my door and then there is a soft knock.

“Everything okay?” he asks concerned. His hand is still on the doorknob as he stands in my doorway, looking at me standing in nothing more than a bath towel.

“Close the door,” I say. Following my instructions he slowly moves to close the door yet keeps his distance from me.

“Make love to me,” I tell him.

“Jess,” he sighs, walking towards me with pained eyes.

“Make love to me.” I raise my voice at him. He’s standing in front of me, each of his hands holding both of my arms.

“You’re not ready for that. Your body needs to heal,” he says quietly.

“I need to feel you, please. All I feel is him, and I need to feel you,” I cry.

“I want nothing more than to make love to you, but we have to let your body heal.”

“Screw you!” I lash out, pulling myself out of his hold. “This disgusts you, doesn’t it?” I say, dropping my towel to the floor and pointing to my bruised body. He stands there moving his eyes up and down the front of me, taking in the sight of my bruised and battered flesh. He’s shaking his head no, but I know what he’s thinking.

“Say it!” I yell at him. “I disgust you, don’t I?”

“Stop saying that. You’ll never disgust me.” He’s angry and I can see him shaking slightly.

“Then make love to me. Please,” I beg. My tone has gone from angry to sad. Tears are threatening to spill out of my eyes while he stands looking at me. He has never denied me sexually, until now.

He speaks quietly, “I can’t. Please understand this is not good for you, for us.”

“Get out of here!” I cry, tears finally spilling down my face. My body is shaking, and my chest is heaving. I feel like I could pass out. Bending down, I reach for the towel I dropped to the ground and wrap it around my body tightly. He doesn’t move. His hands are balled into fists, but his sympathetic eyes remain on me.

“Get the fuck out of here!” I yell at him again as I turn quickly and walk away, making my escape into the bathroom across the hall.

Locking the door behind me, I sit down on the toilet seat and grab another bath towel to bury my face and the sounds of my sobs in. After minutes of crying, I finally hear Gabe’s shoes carrying him down the hallway. Holding my breath, I hear him pause, opening the front door and then closing it with a light click of the lock. It’s then that I drop the towel I was holding in my shaky hands to the ground. I slide off of the toilet and onto the cool tile floor and curl into a ball. I know I’ve lost him.