Page 45 of A Simple Love

“Okay.”

I pressed a kiss to her head. “Okay.”

She was in a loose hoodie and leggings when I returned. Her hair was gathered up on her head, and she looked tired. I cursed myself, knowing I should just let her rest, but I wanted answers. Answers only she could give me. But I forced myself to ask the question.

“Are you up for this?”

She nodded, sitting on the sofa, lifting her feet, and pulling a blanket over her legs. I sat beside her, folding my hands over hers that gripped her knees. “Tell me, lovely. Tell me what happened.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I am not delving into all the details. I don’t like thinking about it.”

“That’s fair.”

“After you left and I knew you weren’t coming back, I decided to go ahead with becoming an accountant. I looked into schools and courses, and Toronto was the best place to get my degree.”

I nodded. It made the most sense.

“I had to do it the long way since money was so tight. I went to school, worked part time, and came home when I could. After Mom died, I stopped coming home. I sold the house and used the money to finish my education. I did all the requirements, including the practical experience, and I got my CPA degree. It was years of hard work.”

“I bet you graduated top of your class.”

“I did well,” she replied.

I squeezed her hands. “Keep going.”

“I started working full time. I was the lowest-ranking employee, but I worked my way up. Then I was offered a job at a different firm. More money, better benefits, and I liked the people I interviewed with. It seemed like a good fit. And it was, for a while.”

I slid a little closer, feeling her tense up. “What changed?”

“One of the partners started harassing me. It seemed innocuous at first, and I thought I was imagining it. But it escalated. Barry would say things, make innuendos, whisper to me in meetings. He stood too close and showed up at after-hours functions and just…” She trailed off. “He was just too close. I spoke with him, and he told me he was simply being friendly and I was making too much of it.”

“What happened?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“It got worse, not better. He’d come up with excuses to have me alone. Got me assigned to an audit that made us work together more closely. I went to HR finally and complained.”

“Did it do any good?”

“He was ‘spoken to.’” She made air quotes. “I realized what I thought was a great place to work was an old boys’ club. Even HR didn’t take me seriously. I started looking for another job. Quietly.”

Her fingers worked the blanket over her knees, clutching at it. A pulse beat frantically at the base of her throat. I moved as close as I could, silently offering her the strength of my presence to finish her story. I let her grip my hands, the shaking in her fingers telling me how relating her tale was affecting her.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.” She looked past me, focusing on something behind my shoulder. “One night, I was working late. He showed up. He’d been drinking, and he got physical. He had me cornered and told me in no uncertain terms if I wanted to keep my job what I had to do for him. What I had to let him do.”

“Bastard,” I snarled.

“He touched me. It made me sick to my stomach.” She took a deep breath. “He grabbed my neck and squeezed my throat. I pushed him away, and he slapped me. He threw me against the wall, and I fought him. I scratched his face, and he slapped me again.” She shut her eyes. “I thought—I knew—he was going to rape me.”

Anger so hot and bright that my skin felt on fire raged through me. “Kassie,” I murmured, horrified.

“He lunged at me, screaming obscenities, and I kneed him in the balls. He went down like a sack of potatoes.”

The unexpected statement caught me off guard, and a shout of laughter escaped my lips. “Good girl.”

“I ran. I grabbed my purse and I ran. It was late, and no one else was around. I went right home and took a shower. Cried. Then I hid at home for two days.”

“You were traumatized.”