Tomorrow would be my last night there… and therefore, my last night with Reese.
Somehow, that fact tore me up more than seeing him did.
I’d completely shut down after our fight, the same way I did after what happened to me at Bramlock. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, my brain and body doing whatever they needed to do to protect me and help me survive. It didn’t matter, anyway — there was nothing more to say to Reese and nothing more he could say to me.
Because Jennifer had been right.
I swore to myself when she got in my head that it was wrong, that there was no way any of it could be true. But he’d proven me wrong not even ten minutes after we got to his place that night.
Just like Wolfgang said I would, I slept my way to the next stepping stone on the way to everything I wanted.
I wondered if there was any way not to do the same in New York.
It felt like the cruelest joke, to finally start trusting again, feeling again, wanting again — and then have the person at the center of all that betray me worse than the one who’d put up the walls in the first place. I was sick when I thought of it, hence my lack of appetite since that night. I trusted Reese. I thought he was different.
And yes, maybe he was right.
Maybe I loved him.
But it was a lie, a fake love, one that couldn’t possibly be real — not when he loved Charlie still, and not when he would even consider that getting me a connection in New York was what I was after the night I undressed for him.
I clutched the next dress from the box between my hands, remembering the power I felt when I stood in his dark bedroom, peeling my jacket off first before I slipped my dress overhead. I’d felt so wanted, so desired, so respected — and now, I only felt naïve.
I was only good for one thing.
That’s what Wolfgang had said, over and over again as he raped me. He’d wanted me to know it. He’d wanted me to remember it forever.
You’re only good for one thing.
I thought I’d proved him wrong before. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
“Sweetie,” Mom said from the bed. I glanced at her through blurred eyes, and when two tears snuck loose, slipping over my cheeks, my mom frowned more.
I shook my head, swiping the wetness away. “Sorry. I guess I’m just emotional.”
“Come here,” Mom said, patting the spot on the bed next to her.
I dropped the dress in my hand, crawling on top of the puffy comforter with a sigh as I sat next to her. We both leaned our backs against the wall, and as soon as I kicked my feet out, Mom grabbed the crystal around her neck.
It was the same as mine.
She squeezed it, eyeing the one around my neck until I did the same, and as soon as my fingers folded around it, I felt the relief. It was like an instant release of anxiety, a flood of peace, and I inhaled a deep breath, trying to seal the feeling in.
“You’re not sad about leaving for New York,” she mused.
I shook my head.
“But, you’re not happy about it, either, are you?”
At that, my bottom lip trembled so hard I had to bite down on it to keep from crying. I shook my head again, still holding the crystal around my neck.
“Talk to your mother,” she pleaded, shifting until her shoulder was against the wall, the frame of her body facing me. She reached one hand out, resting it on my knee before giving it a light squeeze. “Even if it doesn’t make sense, just start talking.”
With that touch, with those simple words, I broke.
It was like the dam breaking, so much emotion rushing through me at once I couldn’t place it, couldn’t find a raft to safely float on top. Instead, I was drowned immediately, no air in sight. Everything just hit at once — the memory of Wolfgang, of what he did, of what he said, of how he permanently changed me forever. And Reese, how he’d opened me up again, helped me through my injuries — internally and externally — and how he’d shown me joy again when I swore I’d never find any.
I squeezed my eyes shut and folded in on myself as the waves took me under, and mom cried, too, wrapping her arms around me in a shield. “Oh, mwen chouchou,” she whispered, rocking me gently. “What happened to my sweet girl?”
That broke me even more, and I pressed the hand that was around my crystal to my chest, trying to soothe the ache. Every breath burned, like I really was inhaling water, like I was drowning right there in my aunt’s guest bedroom.
And that’s when I knew.
That’s when it hit me, all of it — the pain, the hiding, the sense of worthlessness, the fight to be more, the failure, the hope, the love, the gut-wrenching heartbreak. And I knew I couldn’t take another step forward until I faced my past, until I looked every ghost in the eye.
Starting with my wolf.
For the longest time, I just stayed there on the bed, curled up on myself as my mom rocked me and ran her hands over my bald head in an attempt to soothe me. I could feel her own heart breaking, and I knew I was about to break it more.
But I couldn’t keep my secret any longer.
I lifted my head, sniffing and wiping the tears from my face as my eyes settled on hers. “Manman,” I whispered, and my lips trembled again, but I held my chin high despite the fear blooming in my chest. “I was raped.”
The water receded as soon as the words were out, even though my heart broke at the sight of my mother’s hands flying to her mouth, her head shaking, her eyes welling with tears as she watched me. It brought her pain just like I knew it would, but I’d told her the truth. I’d told her what I should have so long ago, but didn’t have the courage to.
And just saying those three words, I felt like I was staring my ghost in the eyes, not backing down, not giving up.
“Oh, no,” she whispered through her hands, still shaking her head as tears ran down her dark cheeks. She reached for me, pulling me into her chest. She readjusted her grip, over and over, like she couldn’t shield me enough, like she couldn’t have me close enough. “No. No, no, no. I thought that was what had happened. It was what my heart told me when you came home, when you changed everything about your appearance, when you flinched away from my touch. But I didn’t want to be right… Oh, my child, I didn’t want to be right.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
She ripped me away from her chest at that, her eyes a burning fire when they landed on me. “No. You do not apologize for this. Ever. Ever, do you hear me? It is not your fault, and you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you before,” I amended, holding back tears. “I’m sorry I was such a coward. And I’m sorry I have to hurt you by telling you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, framing my face with her cool hands. “You are the furthest thing from a coward that could ever exist.”
I nodded past the tears blurring my vision again, and she brought my forehead to her lips, holding them there a long moment before she released me. When our eyes met again, she wiped my tears away with her palms before framing my face once more.
“I want you to tell me everything,” she said. “If you’re ready.”
“I am,” I said quickly. “I am. And I need your help, too. Because… there’s a guy.”
She quirked a brow. “There’s a guy?”