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Where did that leave us?

“Hey Em girl. What's with the tears?” She laid down on the bed and pulled hugged me, hushing me as she gently stroked my hair.

“I’m a mess. I'm a stupid, fucking ridiculous mess.” I sobbed. “I am a worthless piece of shit. I will never have anybody because I can't let anyone near me. Stupid. Stupid.”

Cass unclenched my fists and wrapped her hands in mine. She rolled her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe how blind I was.

r /> “Emma, you are anything but worthless. You are the most amazing person I've ever met. You've been through so much, yet you're so strong. And look at what you're accomplished.”

“I freaked out when he got angry.”

“Did he hurt you?” Cass asked sharply, her voice laced with concern. I shook my head. Simon wasn't capable of hurting me. I trusted him completely, which made this whole mess so much worse.

“I wanted it. I wanted him.” I sighed. “I think I'm falling in love with him.” I began to cry again. How could I be in love with someone? That just wasn't possible. Some bastard made sure that would never be possible 10 years ago.

I was sure Simon felt the same. He was falling in love with me too. I could see that in the way he looked at me, and in the way he wouldn’t look at me. I had never felt so loved, yet I had never felt so alone.

Poor Cass looked very confused.

“He can't be with me. Too many reasons stopping him. Us. His career, age difference. My childhood. All things you pointed out to me.” I sat up on the edge of the bed, the tears were drying up for the first time in hours. This wasn’t me. I’d worked too hard to backtrack now. Simon was capable of making my emotions feel about as stable as a Paris Hilton relationship.

So many questions ran through my mind. How would he see me once he knew the truth? Just as another victim. Just like the cases he worked with every day. Could he still love me, knowing that? And what good would telling him do? It wouldn't change the fact that he was my teacher. All it would do was give him a reason to pity me.

“Well maybe I was wrong. You guys both obviously like each other.” She reached out and pulled the hair from my eyes, tucking it behind my ear. “Shh Em, you'll be okay. I will be back. I will make you a tea.” She slipped out of the bedroom. I listened to her fiddling around in the kitchen. I was so tired. I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up happy, with the last ten years all having been a big nightmare.

I wanted old Emma back. Innocent Emma who loved life. Instead all I was this mess. It seemed the self-pity and why me attitude was planning on sticking around. One thing was for sure. If I was going to move past everything that had happened to me, I sure as hell needed to toughen up.

“Get up.” I open my eyes. The daylight seeping through the edge of the sheet on the window hurts my eyes. “Get the fuck up.” He repeated. I don't move. I am so scared, I feel the tears pricking my eyes. I want to go home. He kicks me. Hard. I gasp, and struggle to my feet. I am woozy, barely able to balance myself. He grabs my arm roughly and yanks me toward a mattress in the corner of the room. I sob.

No, please not this.

I woke up feeling disorientated. I looked around, the familiarity of my surroundings beginning to hit. The comfort of being in my own surrounds was immense. I glanced down. I was still dressed in the same jeans and shirt as before. Even in the darkness, I could feel Cass's warm arms around me. It comforted me to know she was here for me. I struggled to sit up.

“Em? You okay?” She yawed, her words slurred. She sat up, taking a moment to focus.

“I’ve felt better.” I admitted. I grabbed my phone off the night stand. Holy shit. Fourteen missed calls from Simon, and four text messages. All of them read the same. He was worried about me, and he wanted me to call him. Day or night.

I looked at the clock. 10pm. I owed him an explanation.

Sorry about before. Are you able to come over now? I think we need to talk. E xx

Simon sat on the couch opposite me. His eyes showed various emotions. Worry. Confusion. Concern. He waited patiently for me to speak. We had been sitting for nearly ten minutes while I summoned up the courage to speak. Ten minutes of silence. Me, staring out the window (yes the window!), and him, fiddling with his hands, glancing up at me occasionally. I took a breath, keeping my eyes focused on the potted plant on the balcony.

“I was attacked.” I began. “When I was ten, I was walking home from my best friends place. It was 7pm. I'd called my mom to pick me up, but she told me to walk. It was only a few houses.” I took a breath. I watched the traffic move slowly past on the road.

“I was halfway home when I was grabbed from behind. He pulled me into a van. I blacked out. Chloroform I think the police said. I work up in a room- or something. I was chained to a bed. He kept me there for three days. For some of it I was unconscious. For most of it I wasn't. I tried to imagine I was somewhere nice. Like the beach. Under an umbrella. Reading a book.” I smiled to myself. I'd always loved the beach. The way the waves crashed onto one another, then fizzled out into the sand.

I was aware Simon was now behind me. He didn't say anything but I could feel his breath on my neck. I turned to face him. The pain he was feeling showed in his eyes, as did the anger, and the concern. Reaching out, he wiped the tears from my cheek.

“After three days I guess he'd had enough of me. He dumped me in a park. I was found a few hours later, barely alive.” Simon drew in a breath. His hands ran through his hair and rested behind his head. His expression was shocked. Whatever he had imagined, it was obvious it in no way compared to this. “I was repeatedly raped, in ways even you can't imagine. I was beaten, and I was stabbed.” I turned slowly and lifted up my top to reveal the thick scars that ran across my stomach, my everyday reminder of how lucky, and how unlucky I was. I looked into Simon's eyes, searching for his reaction. I waited for the pity, the repulsion. Instead I saw something else. Something unexpected. Pride? Simon place his hands over my shaking hands.

“I didn't think I could feel any stronger about you Em. You are such a remarkable young woman.” He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the forehead. His strong arms wrapped around me tightly.

I suddenly felt weak. Like I might collapse. I had spent so long building up his reaction in my mind, to have his acceptance and love meant so much to me. To say his reaction was unexpected was a complete understatement. I had expected him to be half out the door before I'd gotten the first sentence out.

“You can leave if you want to. I understand.” I ignored the lump in my throat. If he left, I'd be crushed.

“You don't get it do you?” He shook his head in dismay, a grin spreading across his face. “You silly, silly girl. So many people have been through less than you, and not been able to recover. I've seen people homeless, addicted to drugs, sex. I've seen people enter a life of crime, self-loathing. I've seen people die.” He spoke quietly. “But you? You have pulled yourself together. You are amazing, Miss Mancelli.” He kissed me again. This time on the lips.

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