Connor takes my hand as I rush toward the door. I tug free from his grip.
“Don’t leave.”
“I need to go. I just want to go lay down. I’m supposed to meet Maisy at the holiday market later. I came here to invite you, but…I think it’s best if we both cool off. I need time and space to process this.”
“Thea, please.” He captures me in his arms and spins me around. “I’m sorry I ambushed you like this.”
I lean back against the door. Everything feels too confusing. “You hurt me with your lie.”
He releases a ragged breath, gray eyes filled with the same anguish plaguing me. “I never want to hurt you. Ever.”
Despite the disappointment and anger, for a second I stay in his arms. A lump forms in my throat. I can’t turn off the love I feel for him. I allow the safety of his strong embrace to be the balm I need.
“Let me go. We’ll talk later. I just need to go be alone for a while. I’ll think about what you said.”
Connor’s arms tighten around me before he steps back. We stare at each other for a beat, then I turn the knob.
“Wait,” he says. “Here, take this with you.” He pushes the thick file into my hands. “Look at it and call me when you’re ready to talk.” Taking my chin in his thumb and finger, he stares into my eyes. “I’m sorry I kept this from you. I’m sorry for hacking your computer, for everything. We’ll do this together, like we should’ve from the start.”
“Fine. But I need time.” I pause on the threshold, glancing back. “Please don’t do anything reckless.”
The sight of Connor watching me walk away from him, face etched with the suppressed rage he battles against sears into my brain.
It’s only once I make it inside my house and step under the blistering spray of hot water in the shower that I let the tears free.
Thirty-Four
Thea
A week that started off with an amazing night in the mountains has turned into the hardest of my life. I had an aunt that lost her life too young. My boyfriend’s mom cares more about her political career and image than her son’s happiness. My boyfriend admitted he spied on me.
And the accusation of something even worse. Someone stalking and grooming me for years.
Victim.
The word causes my chest to cave. Crying in the shower hasn’t made my fear of the word fade. Or what I’m blocking behind brick walls in my mind. They’re cracking fast, crumbling to dust no matter how much I want to keep hiding from it.
The only thing the shower helped me see clearly was that I shouldn’t have lashed out at Connor. I was putting all the blame on him because I was so scared to face questions I’ve asked myself about Henry.
It hurts that Connor spied on me, but as I pick through the denial with a clearer head, I see the real problem is Henry. What he really was. What he did.
I don’t think I can stress bake my way out of this one.
Once the initial anger faded, burning off fast, I understood I was scared in the pool house. Afraid to face the truth beneath the surface all these years.
Some part of me knew it wasn’t right, but I always pushed it aside. Now the burn of pain and humiliation is blistering. It’s something that could happen to anyone, but I never thought it would be me.
I sat under the spray until it ran lukewarm, leaving my body pink and tender. It didn’t wash away the feelings slithering beneath my skin.
Online boyfriend. It was the easiest way to explain away that I was talking about private things with someone I’d met on the internet. Easier to say we were together, because sending photos and having the intimate conversations we did…pretending to act out fantasies. I swallow thickly, shying from the thought. The things I did with Henry were the things couples do. I did them because if I didn’t, he’d break up with me. But that doesn’t make it okay.
What he did to me was wrong.
He used me. Abused me. Manipulated me when I was vulnerable, making sure I felt like shit if I refused to give him what he demanded. Punishing me for it with his silence until I was running back into his arms like a good little pet.
Henry was not an online boyfriend.
He is a predator.
Not only did he feed on my insecurities about my body—he made them worse. He actively whispered in my ear to knock me back in the dirt whenever I felt strong enough to overcome the negative thoughts, dragging me down with his claws into a pit of despair where he was the one in control of my happiness if he felt like giving it. If I did what he wanted.
Fear, that was how he controlled me.
A wheeze cracks my throat as I sit down hard on my bed, digging my fingers into the damp towel wrapped around me.
After a long minute, I lick my lips and take a deep breath.
“I am a victim,” I say hoarsely, wincing at the word once more.
Saying it out loud makes it real. I can’t run from it when it lives in my bones, lurking in my memories. I tremble on the bed, my knuckles white.
Did I bring this on myself? I responded to his attention in the first place.
As soon as the thought enters my mind, I vehemently refute it with a sharp jerk of my head. “No. I will not blame myself.”
Nothing I do will change what happened to me. I was at a vulnerable age that caused a perfect storm. Mom might have driven my negative feelings about myself, but we both aren’t to blame for this. Henry preyed on me. He is the only one to blame.
Acknowledgement of it all hurts. It’s embarrassing to think a smart girl like myself could be duped. The truth I never dared face rakes me raw.
This is still a lot to think about all at once. I don’t know if I can do it by myself without breaking down. Before I’m swallowed by my emotions, I finish getting dressed.
After a quick search online, I find therapists in the area who can help me process this. I save a list of potentials to the note app on my phone. Whether I decide to seek out therapy or not, I want to be prepared when I’m ready to cross that bridge.
For now, I need to get ready or I’ll be late. Maisy is expecting me at the market. It’s one of our favorite holiday activities to do together. I’m not missing out on it when it’s exactly what I need—another afternoon with my best friend, hot chocolate with cinnamon and marshmallows, and something normal to take my mind off of all this for a while.
In the car on the way to meet Maisy, more memories and thoughts worm their way through the decimated remains of the mental walls, painting everything in a new light. It makes my heart beat hard and my palms sweat.
I want to stop thinking about it, but it’s like being dumped in ice water. Every time my mind jumps off it, the wet clothes remind me how tightly they cling to my skin. I don’t know how I lasted in denial about this for so long.
Would I ever have figured this out without Connor? Or would I have buried it deep down, pretending it was harmless, when in reality it was a poison flaring up when I least expected it?
Maybe I was an idiot.
With a sigh, I park the car. I’m not an idiot, but my mind is still jumbled. I’m beating myself up for something I couldn’t control.
I knew I was uncomfortable in some way talking to Henry, but I always brushed it off in order to please him, too worried to let go of the connection to him. What if I didn’t find someone else? I didn’t want to go back to being invisible again.