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“Luke, please,” I whispered, my own eyes threatening to tear up. Why had I pushed him? I should’ve listened to him and dropped it when he’d told me to, but no. And now I'd clearly triggered a memory of his. I'd reminded him of the man who'd abused him, and I could never forgive myself for it.
He didn’t react to my voice in any way, just kept staring at the floor with his arms curled tightly around his legs, much like how I’d found him in the kitchen all those months ago.
“Luke, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I want you to get better, of course I do. But only because I hate watching you hurt every time you wake up from a nightmare. I don’t care how many times you wake me up. But it breaks my heart to watch you trying not to cry, to see you fight so hard to keep the memories at bay every single night. I want to help you, but it doesn’t have anything to do with me. I want you to get better because I care about you, and watching you hurting makes my heart hurt too. Please, Lu, I’m sorry.”
He stared at me for a few moments, as if trying to figure out if I really meant it, before jumping into my arms. Since I wasn’t expecting it, I fell back, my shoulders slamming against the floor. But I didn’t pay it much attention as Luke buried his face in my neck and cried, mumbling “I’m sorry” over and over again.
I rubbed his back as I tried to calm him. “Shh, it's okay, baby. We’re fine.”
Before I could say anything else, the elevator pinged, and the doors opened. I looked up to see one of my neighbors looking at us with wide eyes. Luke froze in my arms, and I gave her an apologetic smile. She nodded at me once before tiptoeing around us and heading toward her apartment.
“It’s okay. She’s gone. Wanna head inside?” Luke nodded and moved away from me. I grabbed his hand as I sat up, not wanting him to escape again. I winced as he pulled me up. I’d probably have bruises soon, but Luke was all that mattered. Once we were both standing, I used my free hand to wipe his tears away. I pressed a soft kiss against his forehead before leading him back to our apartment.
Once inside, I closed the door behind me and pulled Luke into a tight hug, wanting him to know I cared about him. “You are not a pet project. You are my boyfriend, and I care about you a lot.”
“I’m sorry I said that. Sometimes...when I’m anxious or panicked, these...dark thoughts fill my head. They always sound likehisvoice, and they tell me things, bad things about myself. I try to ignore them, but sometimes I can’t. I’m sorry.”
I rubbed his back as he sobbed against my chest, wishing there was a way I could take all of his pain away. “Will you tell me why you don’t want to see a therapist?”
“I want to get better,” he mumbled against my chest, his tears creating a wet spot on my shirt. “I really do, Scott. I don't want to be like this.”
I hummed softly to let him know I understood, that I believed him. He took a deep breath, looking up at me with teary eyes before burrowing his face in the crook of my neck. “I went to a therapist last year, after I was out of the hospital. He worked for the charity. He seemed like a nice guy, and he was quite older than me. I thought I could trust him. After a few sessions, he asked me if...if I’d considered having sex with anyone.”
I squeezed him once to tell him I was listening, already dreading where this was going. Why did the most horrible things happen to the best of people?
“When I told him no, he said it was because I had only bad memories of sex. I guess he was right about that.” He let out a chuckle that was anything but happy. “Then he told me that the simplest way to get over that hang-up was to have sex with someone who’d be gentle a-and care for me. He said he’d be only too happy to be that person for me.” He’d switched back to that monotone he used sometimes when talking about his past, and I knew it was a way for him to separate himself from what had happened.
“Oh, Luke…”
He nodded against my neck. “I was alone in that room with him, and I panicked so badly I woke up in the hospital an hour later. The therapist told everyone it was because I’d been reliving some really bad memories. Before he left, he told me no one would believe me because I was just a homeless guy and he was a reputable therapist.”
“Oh god, Luke, that was awful. But I’m pretty sure Mama D would’ve believed you.”
“She did. She lodged a complaint against him, but there wasn’t much they could do because he didn’t really do anything.”
“That’s horrible. But, honey,” I pulled away so I could look into his now red-rimmed eyes, “you know not every therapist is like that, right?”
“I know that, Scott. But I trusted this guy for weeks, and then suddenly, he turned on me. And he knew everything about me already. It was scary. And I was in that room with him, alone, and he could've done anything to me. I wouldn't have been able to get out.” Luke shook his head. “I was so scared, Scott. Almost as scared as I’d been when I lived withhim.”
I held his face in my palms and looked into his eyes as I asked, “You trust me, right?”
“More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”
“Thank you for giving me your trust, Lu. It means the world to me, and I promise I will never break it, okay?”
Luke nodded, and the trust that shone in his usually wary eyes almost made me cry. “Let me do something for you. How about I look around and find a trustable therapist? Would you feel better if it was a female therapist?”
“I guess.”
I nodded. “Okay, so I’ll look for a female therapist. And if you want, I’ll come with you to the sessions too. You’ll be alone with her, yes, but you’ll also know that I’ll be sitting right outside that door waiting for you. Would that help?”
Luke nodded, biting his lower lip. “You’d do that for me?”
I smiled softly. “Baby, I’d do anything for you.”
Luke smiled a shy, soft smile, and then he was kissing me, his hands curled around my neck and his lips so soft around mine. I sighed against his lips, happy in this little bubble of ours.
He leaned back after a moment and looked up at me. “Can I think about it for a few days?”
