“Can I have your hands?”
I turn so that my knees are out of the door a little and my upper body faces him. I lay my hands in his. His skin is on fire. He shakes me gently to get me to look at him.
“Maggie, fuck no. You don’t know. You’re saying you do but you don’t. These so-called men, these fucking cowards, were in positions of power over you. They used it and manipulated—” He’s red and his eyebrows are contorted with sadness. “They made you feel like you were wrong.”
“But it wasn’t that bad—”
“Fuck that!” Roe roars.
“I should have left. I should have never gone—” I’m crying and can’t go on.
“Maggie this is not your fault.” He shakes his head. “This is in no way your fault.”
My throat is closed.
“These men abused you. They abused their position of power. And if it made you feel awful you are allowed to feel awful. People can’t tell you how bad your abuse was. They didn’t live it.”
“I wasn’t raped. It could have been much worse.”
“Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face. “I can’t believe we live in a world where ‘at least I wasn't raped’ is a defense. You were sexually assaulted. This is not your fault in any way. Your mentor should have treated you with respect. Zebulund—I can’t even think about him and not feel sick. I’m going to go to jail for murdering him.”
I squeeze our linked hands and lower my head onto them. I’ll apologize for all the snot later.
“What? Talk to me. What’s wrong?” His voice is strangled.
“You believe me?” I ask.
“Of course, I fucking believe you.” His gaze roams my face but still burns with anger.
“And you don’t think I’m a whore? You don’t think I put myself in the situation and it’s my fault? That I liked the attention? Dressed for the attention. Teased them?”
His face falls, becomes instantly blank. He stares deep into my eyes.
“No, Maggie May. I think you’re a million amazing things. I don’t think what happened to you, what these men did, defines you at all. They are master manipulators. You are not the sum total of their pathetic actions. They do not get to define you. Do you hear me?”
I nod; my chin quivers pathetically. I’m shocked. I had no idea how badly I needed to hear this.
“What all these men have said and done to you,” he squeezes my shoulders, “your whole life, is not your fault. You didn’t deserve it.”
With that, I fall out of the car and crumble into Roe’s arms. We kneel, dirt digging into my knees. I’ve never felt as light as I do in that moment.
I don’t deserve what happened to me.
It isn’t my fault.
He believes me.
I have value.
26
Roe
She goes willinglyinto my embrace and even wraps her arms around my neck. She’s quieted down some. No more great heaving sobs, only occasional sniffles. I carry her into the house and lay her on the bed. She immediately curls in on herself, hands in fists, looking up at me with glassy eyes.
“I’m making you a bath. Okay?”
Her eyes are red and heavy with exhaustion, but she consents. I bring her a wad of tissue before going to fill the tub. I can’t catch my breath. I’ve never felt this level of rage before. My emotional control is gone. Thankfully, I’m an actor. I don’t want to scare Maggie. And I don’t want to make her confession about me. Whatever it takes to make her comfortable with me, I’ll do.
