Page 90 of When In Doubt

“We went out to dinner,” she continues, placing each word carefully like it’s a house of cards. “It was nice, but the restaurant was a little loud. I don’t know if he could tell I was having a hard time, but when he ran into a friend a few tables over, he spent most of the night talking to him.”

“Asshole,” I grumble. What fucking idiot would get a shot at taking Freya on a date and waste it thinking about anyone but her?

“I should have just ditched him, then. Hung out with the girl his friend was there with,” she jokes weakly, trying for humor. I don’t bite. “We went back to his place after. I don’t think he actually asked, but I didn’t tell him to take me home so I guess he just figured…” I can hear her breath hitch like she’s trying to hold back a sob. Everything in me is raging at where I think this story is going.

“Freya, I know it’s hard for you to talk about. If you really don’t want to, we can go to sleep. Try again in the morning.”

“I want to tell you,” she asserts, and I could almost deflate with relief. I don’t know if this story is something I want to hear, but imagining is worse. Besides, if she had to live it, the least I can do is listen. Maybe by speaking it out loud, she can let a piece of it go. “I just need to get there.”

“We’ve got time.” I speak against the shell of her ear. “And I’m a very patient man. Tell me.” I take her cheeks in my hands and pull her away, bringing us almost nose to nose. I need her to see me for this, to know that I’m here, that it’s her and me.

She bites her lip, but then I see the resolve travel across her gaze. “We got back to his apartment and I was already feeling unsure. It was obvious he had expectations, but I didn’t think he’d push. He knew I’d never been with anyone before, so…” She squeezes her eyes shut. I just want to fix it, but I can’t, and I don’t know how to handle that. When she goes to hide her face again I let her, wrapping her in a tight hug. “We were kissing, and then I stopped him. We were on his bed and he just kept talking, going round and round in circles, saying all this stuff, saying how it was normal, how normal relationships went.” Fuck. “I just got so confused. Eventually I was so twisted up, and I thought I wanted to, but I don’t know… maybe I just wanted to make him happy with me.”

“Freya,” I huff out. It’s like the wind’s been knocked out of me. That someone could do that, to her, my Freya.

“I felt so stupid afterwards. I mean, how could I not say anything? I should have asked him to take me home when we first got in the car, or just left when he started getting pushy, but I was so confused, and overwhelmed. I couldn’t get my thoughts straight, or my words out.”

“Frey…” I coo, running a hand through her hair. It’s like I’ve been hollowed out, but I can’t focus on that now.

“He came by the house the next day, and he seemed so normal. He made me think it was like that for everyone, so when he asked me out again, I figured I should say yes.”

“How long were you together?” I ask carefully.

“Maybe eight months? I don’t know, it’s hard to say when it started for real.”

“Did you end it?”

“No.” The word comes out jagged, like shards of glass caught in her throat. “That’s the worst part. After all that, he got to be the one to leave.”

“Fuck.” I try to hold her tighter, like I could somehow fold her into my chest. “It doesn’t matter who ended it. It’s over. You don’t ever have to see him again.”

“But what if I just…” She shakes her head against me, like she’s trying to burrow her way in. “I just worry. I don’t know if I would have left.”

“You would have.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I do. I know you. I know how strong you are.”

“I’m not strong.”

“You are,” I press. She may not see it, but I do. She’s a God damn powerhouse when she lets herself be.

“I was so pathetic back then. I was just so lonely, and I felt like that was my one shot at finding someone. What if I would have just put up with it forever because I didn’t want to be alone?”

“Freya, you can’t know for sure what might have happened. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re here, you’ve built this amazing life all on your own.” I lift her face, needing to look her in the eye when I say it. “And you’re not alone. I know this is new, but I’m fucking nuts about you, I have been for a really long time. When we were kids I thought you were so cool, so smart. You were the most interesting person I knew, and now that I know you better I can see that I didn’t even know the half of it.” Maybe I’m being too forward, but I think she needs to hear it. “I believe with my whole heart that it wouldn’t have mattered if he broke up with you or not, you’d have gotten the fuck out of there. And now you’re here, and you’re a miracle, Freya.”

Something swims in her eyes that I can’t place.

“Please say you believe me.” I’m not too proud to beg.

“I’m trying to.”

Later, we lie facing one another, the tip of my finger tracing across her eyelids, down her nose, over the bow of her lips. She hasn’t said anything in a long time, I guess she’s wrung out after telling me everything.

I’ve never felt this way before, this rage bubbling up inside me. But listening to Freya, hearing her choke out what happened to her, what he did to her? It drags something primal to the surface.

Her eyes are closed, though I know she isn’t asleep. She’s curled up, both hands tucked under her cheek, like a resting angel. I came here tonight on autopilot. As soon as I got into my truck, the only place I wanted to be was wherever she was, like an ache in my chest that would only budge when I got to look into those eyes.