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I took a deep breath and began, “When I was sixteen we went to a party…”
I told her everything. About Brad and Dave. About Craig beating them up, even though he didn’t know the whole story. About the night at the USC Orientation, and the way I’d retreated from Craig afterwards. Everything.
When I was done, my throat was sore and my tea was cold, but I felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.
I lifted my eyes to see Gaby wiping her wet cheeks. She’d cried softly off and on while I spoke, holding my hand when I told her things that were especially hard to say.
“Oh, Gwennie, I’m so sorry that you went through that, and didn’t feel like you could talk to anyone about it,” Gaby said, beginning to weep again.
I pulled her in for a hug, and we sat there holding each other for a while. Until we were both ready to let go.
“It’s always been hard for you, ya know,” she said as she pushed my hair back from my face. “Ever since Dad left you’ve had a hard time expressing your feelings, or telling anyone when you were hurt.”
“I have?”
Gaby nodded.
“But I hope you know, you can always tell me anything, Gwen, no matter what it is. I’m here for you.”
“I know that, really I do, and I know that Craig’s there for me too,” I admitted. “It’s just sometimes, no matter how much I want to let it out, it’s like the words get stuck in my throat.”
I leaned back and over, resting my head on Gaby’s shoulder, and she ran her hands over my hair.
“Do you think you’re ready to talk to someone?” Gaby asked softly.
I thought about her question. Would I be able to tell a stranger everything that had happened? Would it help? Or would dredging up the past just make things worse? Craig and I were in a great place now, and I didn’t want to screw that up. But, maybe in order to have the life I wanted, I needed to get it all out.
“Yeah,” I responded. “It’s time.”
Chapter Thirty-Three ~ Craig
Present Day (20 years old)
“Can you pass the sweet potatoes?”
I was sitting at my mother’s Thanksgiving extravaganza, wondering if I should try to call Gwen a
gain, or wait for her to call me. I couldn’t deny the fact that I was worried about her.
“Can you pass the sweet potatoes, please?”
I’d left her alone last night, then I left her a message and shot her a text this morning, but hadn’t heard anything back.
“Craig, can you please pass the sweet potatoes?”
Had she talked to Gaby? Her mother? Was she sad, angry, hurting? Or, worse, had she retreated back into herself again, and was, even now, shutting me out?
“CRAIG!” my father shouted, scaring the shit out of me.
“Yeah, Dad?” I asked, my eyes wide and my heart pounding from being startled out of my thoughts.
“Shelly’s been asking you to pass the sweet potatoes for the last five minutes.”
I looked over at Shelly, who was giving me an apologetic smile, even though I’d been the one apparently ignoring her.
“Oh, sorry, Shelly,” I said as I picked up the bowl of candied sweet potatoes and passed them to my sister-in-law.
“That’s okay,” she responded sweetly.
