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LEXIE SAT WITH DR. Heart. She came straight from a doctor’s appointment with her Obstetrician, Dr. McMillan, and she couldn’t help but compare the feel of the cold, sterile, doctor’s office, with the warmth and welcome that she received with Dr. Heart.
Lexie reached across her chair toward the bottle of water Dr. Heart offered. “Thanks,” Lexie said.
Dr. Heart nodded and sat across from her. As always, she was dressed impeccably in a black pencil skirt and sleeveless blue top. Lexie resisted the flash of self-consciousness and the urge to glance down at her own ill-fitting ensemble—jean Capri’s and a tight pink maternity shirt, which strained against her growing middle.
She was twenty minutes into her session, and thus far, they had discussed her photography, the pictures she had taken recently, and her undefined relationship with Elliot. Lexie was surprised to find Dr. Heart was pleased with the development between her and Elliot. She thought maybe she would discourage it, with the reasoning Lexie wasn’t ready for a relationship after what happened, but her feelings were quite the opposite and oddly reassuring.
Lexie sighed and shook her head. “I’ll admit, I feel better than I did. Those first few months after my rape—” Lexie paused. The word rape was still difficult for her to say. Her mouth formed the words, but the pain behind them still held a slightly shameful edge—something she was working on. “It was a pretty dark time. And that’s an understatement. I wanted to die. Although there are still days I feel that way, there are very few of them. I still struggle with merging the Lexie before and the Lexie after. I still feel like I’m split in two. I’ll never be the same, but I want to at least have parts of the old me back again, and I’m scared that I never will.
Dr. Heart smiled reassuringly at her. “Everything you feel and describe is perfectly normal. Someday you won’t feel like you’re split in two, but it takes time. One morning, you’ll just wake up and, poof. That very transformation will seem to have happened over night. It sneaks up on you. You need to focus, not so much on how far you have left to go, but how far you’ve come. Think about it, Lexie. When you first came in here, you could barely even say the word rape. You went from sleeping outside of your parent’s bedroom to getting your own place. You’re in a potential relationship. You’re on your way to healing the relationship with your brother. And since you felt the baby kick, I think you’re finally coming to terms with your resulting pregnancy.”
Lexie looked down at the hands in her lap. A bead of sweat from the water bottle in her hand slid down the plastic onto her jeans. “Yeah. I know you’re right.” She sighed. “I just want this to be over, ya know? But I guess it’ll never be completely over. What happened will stick with me the rest of my life.”
Dr. Heart placed a hand on Lexie’s, her expression warm. “Trust me. I know exactly how you feel. But you’re making so much progress already. One thing that helps a lot of victims is using your experience to help others. You could join a group of rape survivors, help counsel other women, get involved politically to fight for victim’s rights, do speeches. A lot of options are available. I think you should keep them in mind.”
Lexie nodded. “Okay, I will.” She wasn’t ready for any such thing. Her wounds were still too fresh, but Dr. Heart planted the seed, and she would let it grow. Maybe down the road, she would be ready.
Lexie left the confines of Dr. Heart’s office and walked past the waiting room. She was in a hurry to meet Elliot. They had plans to meet at the The Covered Bridge for lunch, and she didn’t want to be late.
“Hey, Lexie,” a shrill voice called from behind her.
Lexie groaned inwardly. She considered opening the door and leaving, pretending she hadn’t heard anything. The only thing that stopped her from doing so, was the knowledge that Carly would, most likely, follow her out the door.
She turned around, a fake smile planted on her face. She hadn’t seen Carly since the day of her first appointment. It figured. Just when she had begun to relax, to arrive for her appointments without the anxiety of running into her again, here she was. “Hi, Carly. How you been?”
Carly’s eyes pulled into slits, a result of her tight ponytail. “Oh, you know. Same old thing with me,” she said, waving Lexie off. “So, the word is you’re seeing Elliot again. I was surprised to hear that, seeing as how you up and left last time. And because you’re so...” Carly’s eyes roamed over Lexie’s body. “Pregnant. Marla over at the pharmacy swore it was true though. She swore on her Chihuahua, Pinky, and she never does that, so she must be right.”
Carly stared at Lexie, her wide eyes eager, but Lexie bit her tongue, lest she say anything she’d regret. She wanted to refute the statement or make some kind of snide remark, but why? What she said was true. Well, sort of. And just because Carly was rude, didn’t mean she had to be.
“I’ve seen him a few times,” Lexie said.
Disappointment registered on Carly’s face at the lack of details. So, of course, she couldn’t let it go there. “Didn’t you say you were seeing Dr. Heart about a divorce? How’s Elliot taking that? He seems like the “marry-for-life” type. I thought you two never got hitched?”
Lexie cleared her throat. She was at a crossroads, a point where she could choose to continue to lie (once again with the divorce story), or she could tell Carly the truth. The last person in the world any sane person would want to tell anything personal to would be Carly Soborne. However, even as the lie flitted across Lexie’s mind as the preferable response, she thought about the conversation she had with Dr. Heart. She wanted so badly to feel like herself again, and if she wanted her life back, she needed to be fearless, to put unwarranted shame aside, and talk about what happened to her. She was the victim. The time for running was over.
She took a deep breath and said, “Actually, that’s not why I’ve been seeing Dr. Heart.”
“Oh?” Carla said. Her brows lifted into arches above the excited gleam in her eyes. No doubt, she was salivating at the thought of fresh gossip.
“The truth is, I’ve been seeing her because, before I left Pittsburgh, I was raped.”
“Oh.” Her voice came out strangled and hard to discern. “Well...I’m glad to see you’re okay.” She placed a hand on her arm.
Lexie glanced down to Carly’s hand and her perfectly manicured fingers.
Carly continued, “I don’t know if I would go around telling people that though. I mean, maybe you should just keep it to yourself,” she whispered. “Nobody wants to hear such awful things.”
“Carly?” Dr. Heart’s voice called from the waiting room. “You ready?”
Carly glanced at Dr. Heart, then back to Lexie, flashing her what Lexie assumed to be a pitying smile before she left.
Lexie stood, rooted to her spot in front of the door, watching Carly’s disappearing form as her stomach clenched and twisted. Nobody wants to hear such awful things.
Swallowing over the bile rising in her throat, she willed her feet to move and turned toward the door. She didn’t notice the droves of colorful impatiens or the hummingbird that buzzed from the purple blossoms of a butterfly bush. She trained her eyes on the ground as she walked, but her mind was focused on Carly’s words.
Once in her car, she leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel. It was hot from the afternoon sun and nearly scorched her head, but she didn’t care. Moments ago, she took a giant leap, thinking herself courageous. As she sat in the suffocating heat of her car, however, she believed herself to be a fool. Carly’s comments made her feel the full force of the shame she had worked so hard at repressing.
She started her car and pulled out of the driveway, her excitement at the prospect of lunch with Elliot forgotten. She repeated the whole way, with tears in her eyes, I did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong. It’s not my fault.
She guided her car through town, past the video store, the antique shop, and the gas station. She arrived at the The Covered Bridge Pizza Parlor just minutes later. She hadn’t been there since her return home. Its casual atmosphere, small-town charm, and making it her and Elliot’s favorite place for a quick bite since high school. She peered up at the aged wood exterior, a piece of history in and of itself—a restored portion of Foreman Road Bridge, built in 1865.
Lexie got out of her car and headed for the entrance, a multitude of memories of her and Elliot flickered through her mind. When she stepped inside, the smell of pizza and French fries assaulted her. She spotted Elliot in a corner booth and headed toward him.
Her throat ached from repressed tears, and as much as she tried to pretend her conversation with Carly hadn’t affected her, Carly’s words still buzzed in her head, making forgetting impossible.
Elliot stood at her approach and sat back down with a smile as she took the seat across from him. He wore a pale blue dress shirt, unbuttoned loosely at the neck, and dark jeans. His hair was a tad rumpled, but he was clean shaven, his skin smooth and smelling of shaving cream and soap. He looked impossibly handsome, and she felt entirely unworthy.
She gave him the best smile she had to offer, but even she had to admit, it was half-hearted. She closed her eyes and willed herself to get her composure together. She was here with Elliot and she wanted to forget what happened, to enjoy herself. The last thing he wanted was a woman with so much baggage. He deserved someone without a crushed spirit, someone pure, whose life was put-together, not a woman who continued to struggle to piece together the shards of her broken life. And as she looked into the blue of his eyes, she realized just how much it would hurt if he hadn’t the desire to stick around.
They ordered their food then talked for several minutes about the weather. Lexie made attempts to ask Elliot about his store and his latest fishing adventures, but despite her best efforts, the dialogue came off strained.
“So, how did your appointment go?” Elliot asked. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in the booth.
Lexie tried to smile, but her mouth didn’t seem to budge. Instead, her lips pressed into a flat line. “It was alright.”
Their waitress, a chunky blond, appeared by their table, tray in hand. She placed their pizza and breadsticks in front of them along with plates. “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked.
Elliot looked at her, then said, “No. We’re good, thanks.” He waited until she left to speak again. “Dr. Heart has a really great reputation. I heard that she’s amazing with victims in your situation.”
Your situation? His generic reference was most likely out of respect for her privacy in a place where they could easily be overheard. Nevertheless, it irritated her.
He took a sip of his soda and said, “Do you think she—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lexie cut him off. “Just let it go. No one wants to hear about such awful things.” Several patrons glanced in their direction at the sound of her raised voice, and Elliot’s eyes widened.
He leaned back, and Lexie could see the hurt in his eyes and immediately regretted her harsh response. “I’m sorry,” Lexie said before she broke down.
She placed her head in her hands and cried.
A moment passed before Elliot came around the table and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright,” he said quietly into her ear, then rested his cheek on her head and stroked her hair.
His arms and the comforting tone of his voice were an anecdote to her fragile state-of-mind. She sobbed once more, then looked up at him, and he wiped her wet cheeks with his palm.
“You don’t want to be with me, Elliot,” she said.
She and Elliot had yet to discuss the semantics of their relationship, so maybe Lexie was being presumptuous, but she felt a disclaimer was necessary. “I’m not the old Lexie. I don’t even know who I am anymore, and I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll figure it out. I’m broken. Damaged goods.”
Elliot leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead, then over each damp, tear-stained, cheek. “I see you, Lexie. I saw you then, and I see you now. I know who you are, and I’ll be here for you. Whatever terrible things happened to you, may have wounded you, may even have cut you to the core, but they didn’t destroy your heart. So, why don’t you let me decide who I want to be with? Okay?”
Lexie met his gaze, absorbing the sincerity of his words. She leaned forward and held onto him, gripping him as if he were her life preserver. With him, everything seemed lighter, anything possible, like the past didn’t matter, only the present and her future.
She had a choice to either sink or swim. And sitting there, wrapped in Elliot’s arms, she would try, with every ounce of her being, to swim.