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Samantha
I don’t know how I made it through my last exam today. Since I found out what Garrett did to me, I’ve been sick to my stomach. Brad still doesn’t know to what extent Garrett’s gone to have me. He knows none of the details. I’m afraid of what he might do when he finds out. I don’t want to lose him over this. I’m terrified of the conversation that I know we need to have.
I’ve never thought about killing someone until now, not even Garrett. But this time he’s taken things too far. I feel like such a fool. He hurt me in the worse way, and I have nothing to prove it. He erased every shred of evidence. Sure, I have messages on my phone, but they all came from Brad, or so I thought.
Brad must hate me. I could feel him staring at me before his shower last night. He couldn’t even talk to me. I don’t blame him. I’m damaged goods. How did I not know that it wasn’t his hands that touched me, his mouth that devoured me, his... I should’ve known.
I sit in the parking lot for a few minutes before I go inside the apartment. Brad’s stretched out on the couch when I walk in. When I look into his eyes, I don’t see happiness. All I see is pain and hurt, staring back at me. I want to go to him and somehow erase it all, but it’s not possible. Something like this is not easily erased. It stays with you. It lingers, and if not dealt with, it can tear you apart.
Brad sits up on the edge of the couch and pats the spot next to him. I hesitate at first, not understanding how he wants to be anywhere near me, much less so close. He reaches his hand out for me to come to him, and I go. I take his hand and sit next to him, but I don’t dare look at him. I can’t. Not while he’s so close. I can only imagine what he thinks of me; the disgust he must feel.
“Sam.” Brad’s voice is barely above a whisper.
I stay quiet.
“Baby, I need you to look at me,” he pleads.
I turn to face him. The shame of what I’ve done courses through me. I expect him to tell me that he’s done with me. That I need to leave. That he can’t live with what I’ve done. I expect him to say that he hates me, but he doesn’t.
I see affliction in his eyes as he says to me, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I let this happen.”
I shake my head incredulously. How could he think that any of this is his fault? He didn’t let this happen. I did. Blaming him never crossed my mind.
“What do you mean Brad? This is not your fault. I did this to us. I should’ve... I should’ve...” I stutter. The words stalled in my throat. My eyes fill with tears that spill over when he brings my hand to his cheek.
There’s so much that I want to say to him. My explanation is a breath away, but would it mean anything if I gave my side of the story. Does he even want to know? The fact that he’s letting me touch him lets me know that he still cares, but is it enough. Is our love strong enough to get through this?
He lowers my hand into his lap but doesn’t let go. His questioning stare makes me want to run away.
“Are you okay?” He asks hesitantly.
“I’m okay.”
“Did he...” His eyes close for a brief moment. It pains him to ask this question. “Did he hurt you?”
And it pains me to answer. How do I answer that? Physically? No, he didn’t hurt me. In fact, he did everything in his power to please me, and I bathed in his offering. Mentally? Yes. He’s hurt me in a way that is unforgivable. I still can’t believe the person he’s become.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I said shamefully.
“Did he touch you?”
“Yes,” I answer truthfully.
I watch as Brad’s Adam’s apple bobs beneath the skin of his neck.
“Did you have sex with him?”
“Brad,” I say in a whispered breath.
“Did you?” He asks again. The tone of his voice isn’t angry. It’s hopeful and tortured. He wants me to tell him that Garrett didn’t tarnish me, but I can’t. I hate that he’s suffering because of me.
I look away from him. What am I supposed to say? I did, but I didn’t mean it. That would be a lie. I meant to do what I did because I thought it was him. Do I tell him that I loved every second of it? Do I tell him that the things Garrett did to me were like an anthem to my body? I can’t say those things, even if they are true. That would ruin us.
“I thought it was you, Brad. I’m so sorry. I thought it was you.” I can’t bring myself to look at him. I cover my face with my hands and let the rush of tears fall.
Brad pulls me into his arms and leans back onto the couch. I let my hands fall to his lap. His heart beats wildly in his chest. His solid grip around me gives me an ounce of comfort. His breath flows heavily across my forehead as he tries to hold back his rage.
“It’s okay, Sam.” His words contradict his demeanor.
I sob even harder hearing him say that. It’s not okay. He’s not okay. He’s telling me what I need to hear to feel safe.
“It’s okay, Sam,” he says again. “We’ll figure this out.”
Minutes pass in silence, and Brad lets me cry on his chest until I can finally breathe even again.
Brad places a kiss on my forehead. “What do you want, Sam? Do you want to file charges against him?”
“No,” I say quickly, sitting up to look at Brad. I have no proof. No one would ever believe me unless Garrett confesses. I know he never will. It would ruin his life. “I just want to move on.” I silently ask Brad to understand. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I desperately need this to go away. I want to pretend like it never happened.
He gives me an apprehensive stare. “Do you still love him?”
“No. Of course not. I just... I want to forget. I don’t want to think about that night any longer than I have to.” Which seems to be all the time now. I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel both excited and disgusted when I do. The way I feel is wrong on so many levels. “Please tell me you understand.”
Brad doesn’t answer me. He just stares. I can feel his trust in me diminishing with every passing second.
“Brad? Say something.”
Both of us turn to look when my phone begins to ring. It’s Lacy’s ringtone. I look at Brad. I don’t want our conversation to end like this, but what if something’s wrong?
He looks at me. “You should get that,” he says with an edge of frustration.
I grab my phone out of my purse. “Hello.”
“Hi Grace,” Lacy says through the receiver.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. I barely make out anything else after she answers yes. My attention is still focused on Brad.
He stands, walks into the room, and comes back with his car keys. He mouths to me, “I’ll be back.” There’s no parting affection or explanation. He just leaves.
My heart breaks a little when the door clicks.
“Grace? Are you still there?” I manage to smile at Lacy’s cheerful voice.
“Yes, I’m here,” I say, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. “How’s baby Thomas doing?” Lacy and Robert are keeping the gender of the baby a secret. So, I’ve been calling him or her by their last name.
“The baby is fine,” she says. “Two more months. Can you believe it?” She sounds so happy.
I haven’t seen her since her belly began to grow. I’ve been so busy with work and school. I’ve let everyone know that the moment this baby comes, I will be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything. It’s my turn to be there for Lacy now like she’s always been for me.
“I can hardly wait. Have you and Robert picked out names yet?”
“We’re thinking Robert Brody Jr. if it’s a boy, and Amber Renee if it’s a girl.”
My chest squeezes at the mention of mom’s name. “Mom,” I whisper into the phone.
“Yeah. I think she would’ve liked that.”
I’ve never known her, but I would like to think that she would have too. The mention of mom also brings to mind her parents. I’ve only seen them a handful of times since I was born. I think being around me was a harsh reminder of what they’ve lost. I feel guilty like it’s my fault that they’ve stayed away. I wonder if they would accept me into their home if I were to visit. I wonder if they’ll be present for the new baby. Maybe it’s time that I put more effort into getting to know them.
“Have you heard from grandma Liz and grandpa Carl?”
Lacy sighs into the receiver. “No, I haven’t. It would be nice if they could be here when the baby is born.”
“Maybe I can go for a visit or give them a call. They’ve been pretty distant, but maybe I can change that.”
“Maybe,” Lacy says uncertainly. “It definitely wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“No. It wouldn’t.” I make myself a mental note to reach out to them at some point this week.
“The reason I called is to personally invite you to the baby shower that Rob’s parents are throwing for us in a couple of weeks. They’re sending out invites, but I thought I’d call to let you know, just in case something happens to the mail.”
I smile at her subtleness; the way she tells me that she wants me there without really saying it. “I’ll be there,” I say. “I wouldn’t think of missing it.”
“Good.” She pauses for a few seconds. “So, how are things with Bradley? Is he still treating you like the princess you are?”
My eyes become glossy, overhearing Brad’s name. It’s hard to believe how fast things have changed. If she had asked me that question only two days ago, my thoughts would’ve been totally different than what I’m feeling now. I can’t tell her how things really are between Brad and me. I won’t tell her that he walked out minutes ago and my heart still aches because I don’t know what he’s thinking. She doesn’t need that kind of stress. So, I tell her the truth without all of the drama.
“Brad is great. I wouldn’t ask for anyone better.” I just wish he’d stayed and finished our conversation.
