Secrets & Lies
My father’s face colors with frustration, and my stomach knots, wishing I hadn’t even told them how I spent my day. He and I rarely see eye to eye, and it would appear sexual assault is one more thing on a very long list. Most of the time, I can let it go, nodding my head as I silently recite all the reasons he’s wrong. But not on this topic. Not when I’m feeling so emotionally raw from hearing everything Ashland went through. My wounds are open and bleeding right now, and as much as I might want to let it go, I just can’t.
“All I’m saying is it seems like a convenient defense. I mean, the man’s not even here to defend himself because she apparently found it easier to kill him than telling someone what he’d done to her.”
I blink at my father in disbelief, repressed rage heating the blood in my veins. He’s sitting across from me at the small, round, wooden table by the bay window in my parents’ kitchen, his shoulders squared as he holds tight to his small-minded opinion.
“Do you honestly believe if he were still alive he’d admit to what he did? She’d still face the same battle of proving herself. Sexual assault is never convenient. The man was a predator. He tormented and tortured her for a year, and the effects of that abuse never faded.”
“So she says.” He shovels another bite in his mouth, continuing as he chews. “There’s no hard evidence to back up her claim. Why didn’t she tell anyone back then? Why wait all these years then decide to kill him?”
Rolling my eyes, I lift my left hand and wave it in the air before slamming it back down on the table. “She didn’t simply decide to kill him. And she didn’t speak up because she was afraid, because she knew she’d have to face people like you. Because somehow, when it comes to sexual assault, it seems society always wants to place the blame back on the victim. As if they haven’t already suffered enough, as if they don’t already hate and doubt themselves to begin with.” My words become shaky and I pause, drawing in a deep breath to calm myself.
“Maybe this isn’t the best dinner conversation,” my mother tries to interject.
Neither of us even bother to look at her before we start up again.
“Tell me this,” my father says, leaning forward as he taps a finger on the table. “If he was the monster she’s painting him to be, why doesn’t anyone else know about it? Why hadn’t anyone ever seen him do any of the things she’s claiming he did?”
Scoffing, I shake my head and drop my fork as I collapse into the back of my chair. He has no clue how ironic this conversation is, no idea his own daughter—his favorite daughter—was one of Jim’s victims. Julianna is still working up the courage to tell our parents what happened to her, and I’m so glad she’s not here to witness the things my father is saying, or she might never find the nerve. “Just because no one else has come forward doesn’t mean there aren’t other victims. Just because someone doesn’t see something doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“All right,” he says, sitting up straight again. “Can you at least admit it’s possible she’s lying?”
I groan. “And what? Killed him for shits and giggles?”
His eyes bug out of his head the way they do when he thinks I’m being unreasonable, and he heckles.
“No…though, people don’t always have a reason for murder. Maybe they had slept together and she was angry with him.”
“Don’t tell me you’re buying into that ‘woman scorned’ bullshit they’re pedaling on the news outlets. She’s a victim.”
He barks out a laugh. “A victim? She killed a man, Lori!”
“No, she killed a fucking monster!”
He shakes his head with disgust. “Again, she could have told someone what he did. She didn’t have to kill him.”
“Tell someone! You have no clue what you’re talking about! You have no idea how hard it can be to tell people something like that happened to you. It’s hard enough to admit it to yourself.” My voice cracks, my face tingling as tears prick my eyes, and I bite into my lip to keep myself from breaking down—to keep from telling him I believe Ashland because I’d lived the same hell as her.
My father watches me, his eyes unblinking, and my pulse quickens, worrying my words and temper have exposed too much.
“All right,” my mother says. “That’s enough. We need to change the subject.”
My father looks over at her this time, nodding in agreement before taking another bite of his lasagna. I sigh, then do the same, unsure if it’s in frustration or relief. One thing I am certain of: I won’t be telling him my story any time soon.
My eyes close before my head even hits the pillow. It’s been a long, grueling day, and I’m thankful it’s over. Just as I begin to drift off, my cellphone rings, and my eyes shoot open as I curse. I reach for my cellphone, and my stomach flutters when I see who’s calling. You would think, as much as we talk now, I would be over that, but I suddenly feel wide awake.
I clear my throat as I sit up and answer the call. “Can you not tell time?”
He chuckles, and I grind my teeth, irritated by the buzz on my skin. “Since when do you go to bed this early?”
“It’s been a very draining day.”
“Are you referring to Ashland or your parents?”
“Both. I had a wonderful discussion with my father at dinner. It’s so good to know how he feels about victims of sexual assault, especially since both of his daughters have been through it.”
“What did he say?”
“Oh, just that he thinks Ashland is a liar because she didn’t speak up sooner.”
Steven sighs. “He wasn’t talking about you, Lori. Ashland’s situation is different.”
“Not really.”
“She killed someone, and your dad won’t be the last person to have very opinionated thoughts about her.”
“Before you ask, yes, I’m still sure I want to write her story.”
“I wasn’t going to ask that,” he says, and I huff. “Okay…fine. I was going to ask you that. I can’t help worrying. But I’ll behave.”
“I went through my notes when I got home tonight. That bastard had a psychology degree. He probably used that to help him prey on women—especially young insecure women like Ashland and my sister. There isn’t anything anyone could say or do to keep me from telling this story.”
“I hear you, and I support you. Promise.”
I groan and roll my eyes. “Anyway, how was couple’s night over at Eric’s?” As hard as I tried to keep the annoyance out of my tone, I’m pretty sure I still failed.
“It was fine,” he answers with a chuckle. “We didn’t really do much, talked about the plans for Brenden’s bachelor party.”
“Well, I already know there won’t be any strippers there. So…that’s lame,” I tease.
“He’s with Lizzy, why would he want to look at a stripper?”
“Okay, gross…she’s like my sister, I don’t want to hear that.”
“What? I didn’t say I wanted to see her naked, just that I’m sure Brenden is very content and doesn’t feel the need to look at other women.”
“No, that’s not much better. Why did you call me anyway?”
“I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see how things went at your parents, and to make sure you were doing okay after your visit with Ashland today.”
I huff. “You were checking up on me?”
“If that’s how you want to look at it, then yeah…I guess I was.”
“I don’t need you looking out for me all the time, you know? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. In fact, I’ve become very accustomed to it.”
“Yes, I know you have. But you’re always so concerned for everyone you love. Maybe it’s time you let someone do the same for you.”
My heart seizes in my chest, and our conversation stills as I work to catch my breath. Why does he say these things that make me feel so much—too much?
I clear my throat. “Well…if you’re so concerned for my wellbeing, you should let me sleep. I’m exhausted.”
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Fair enough. I’ll let you get some sleep.”
“I appreciate that,” I deadpan.
“Goodnight, Lori.”
“Yep.”
He’s chuckling again as I disconnect the call, and I let out a long breath. So much for sleep. Son of a bitch.
The parking lot at Zane’s is nearly full, people coming and going in droves. As I make my way toward the front of the bar, a group of women in short skirts and tight tank tops call out to me, making me question my decision to come here tonight. The music inside is so loud I can hear it clearly out here, and the sweltering summer air guarantees it will be a sauna in there.
“Hey, man,” I say, greeting Brenden with a quick handshake. I’d only met Brenden a few months ago when Cat forced all of us to go on a double date. To be honest, my impression of him at first glance wasn’t a good one. There was this huge guy wearing a leather jacket and biker boots with a scowl on his face, and I thought I had his number. But not even thirty minutes into the date, I could see how wrong I’d been. He looks at Lizzy as if he’d move heaven and earth for her, and I believe he could and would. As I got to know him on a personal level, I felt a kinship with him. Brenden had such a rough start in life, yet he’s never played the poor me card. He used his life’s circumstances to become a stronger, better person. That’s something I can relate to, and I’m glad to call him my friend. “Are you ready for your last night as a bachelor?”
“Hell yeah. As far as I’m concerned, I stopped being a bachelor months ago. I’m ready to make it official and start my life with my soulmate.”
His best friend and best-man, Jon, groans next to Brenden, and he sniggers as he turns to him. “There will be no talk of soulmates tonight.”
It was Jon who decided to come to the bar. If it had been left up to Brenden, Eric, and myself, the bachelor party would have likely consisted of pizza and beer at Brenden’s. But Jon is the best man, and Brenden wanted to keep his friend happy. So, here we are.
“Don’t be a jealous prick,” Brenden quips.
The two of them playfully scuffle like brothers as Eric arrives. There’s a smile on his face and a bounce in his step as he approaches us, such a huge contrast to his temperament the last time I met him at this bar. When he called to tell me about the situation with Cara and asked for my help, I was so worried for him. He finally had the girl and was happier than I’d ever seen him. I couldn’t stand the thought of something jeopardizing that for him. But everything worked out, and things between him and Julianna have never been better.
“Sorry I’m late, guys. I had a little errand to run,” Eric announces as he comes to a stop in front of us.
“Listen,” Jon says, pointing at me, Brenden, and Eric. “You three domesticated cats better at least pretend you remember what it’s like to live in the wild tonight. This is supposed to be a freaking bachelor party.”
Two hours and several drinks later, Eric pulls out a tiny box from his pocket and places it on the table.
I look down at the box then over at him with a quirked eyebrow. “What do you have there?”
“That box is the reason why I was late tonight. I’m going to ask Julianna to marry me.”
Brenden and I cheer, giving him congratulatory pats on his shoulders, while Jon rolls his eyes and crosses his arms from across the table.
“That’s great, dude,” Brenden says. “When are you planning to ask?”
“Well, I didn’t want to steal any of the thunder from Lizzy and Brenden. So, I’m waiting until after the wedding.”
“Wow…” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m really happy for you man, but aren’t you worried she’ll think it’s a little fast?”
Eric huffs out a laugh, his eyebrows raised as he shakes his head. “Fast? I’ve wanted to ask her to marry me since we were in high school. No, I don’t worry she’ll think it’s fast. I know we’ve only officially been dating for a few months, but I’ve loved her for a long time. Besides, when something is right, you just feel it. Time doesn’t change that.”
“Yeah,” Brenden chimes in. “Lizzy and I are getting married tomorrow, and we haven’t been dating any longer than Eric and Julianna, but I knew she was the person I wanted to spend my life with long before then.”
The wooden chair scrapes across the concrete floor as Jon comes to his feet. “Dear God, I don’t want to hear this shit. I’m going to the bar to get us another round.”
As he walks away from the table, I finish off the beer in front of me and contemplate what Brenden and Eric said. Cat and I have been dating longer than either of them. Should I already know if she’s the one? We’ve finally reached the I love you stage, but it’s always felt more like saying it to a friend or family member.
My forehead creases as I look over at Brenden and Eric who are discussing wedding plans. “But how do you know for sure when something is right—when the person you’re with is the one you’re supposed to be with?”
The two of them exchange a glance, both smirking condescendingly, before giving me their attention.
Eric strokes his beard. “It isn’t anything you can put into words, it’s more of a sense…”
“Like there’s this gravitational pull,” Brenden adds.
He told me the story about how he and Lizzy met once, describing the way his head kept telling him to run, but he still found himself drawn to her. I remember thinking there was only one woman I’d ever felt that with—Lori.
Eric nods in agreement. “Bottom line, if you have to ask then…”
This time, they both give me a sad smile, one that says, “sorry about your luck, buddy,” making me feel the need to defend my relationship with Cat. What do they know about it? Cat and I are great together. She’s smart, funny, and beautiful. Her heart is so big, I’ve never met anyone more caring and empathetic for other people. Cat embodies everything I could want in a woman.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking of asking Cat to marry me,” I blurt. Their eyes go wide, and I immediately wish I could take the lie back. Instead, I dig a deeper hole for myself. “I’ve only been waiting because of Cat, I want her to feel as sure as I do. But you guys are right, when you know you know, and I’m going to do it. I’m going to ask Cat to marry me.”
The two of them exchange another look, their mouths dropped open and their raised eyebrows knitted together.
Eric turns back to me, leaning in before speaking in a softer tone only I would be able to hear. “Maybe we should talk about this later, when you haven’t already had a few.”
“I’m not drunk, I’m in love,” I declare, my voice loud enough for the entire table and maybe even the bar to hear.
“Oh shit, not you too,” Jon whines as he places another pitcher of beer on the table.
I give him a bright smile, but my chest tightens, knowing I’ve not only dug a hole, I’ve poured the dirt back in and completely buried myself.
The idea of getting married doesn’t frighten me like some men. If anything, it’s something I’ve been striving and planning for a long time. No, the knotting in the pit of my stomach right now is guilt. It’s the remorse I feel for having lied to my friends. It’s shame because when I pictured my wedding day just now, it was Lori walking down the aisle toward me, not Cat.