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I sat under the spray until it ran lukewarm, leaving my body pink and tender. It didn’t wash away the feelings slithering beneath my skin.
Online boyfriend. It was the easiest way to explain away that I was talking about private things with someone I’d met on the internet. Easier to say we were together, because sending photos and having the intimate conversations we did…pretending to act out fantasies. I swallow thickly, shying from the thought. The things I did with Henry were the things couples do. I did them because if I didn’t, he’d break up with me. But that doesn’t make it okay.
What he did to me was wrong.
He used me. Abused me. Manipulated me when I was vulnerable, making sure I felt like shit if I refused to give him what he demanded. Punishing me for it with his silence until I was running back into his arms like a good little pet.
Henry was not an online boyfriend.
He is a predator.
Not only did he feed on my insecurities about my body—he made them worse. He actively whispered in my ear to knock me back in the dirt whenever I felt strong enough to overcome the negative thoughts, dragging me down with his claws into a pit of despair where he was the one in control of my happiness if he felt like giving it. If I did what he wanted.
Fear, that was how he controlled me.
A wheeze cracks my throat as I sit down hard on my bed, digging my fingers into the damp towel wrapped around me.
After a long minute, I lick my lips and take a deep breath.
“I am a victim,” I say hoarsely, wincing at the word once more.
Sa
ying it out loud makes it real. I can’t run from it when it lives in my bones, lurking in my memories. I tremble on the bed, my knuckles white.
Did I bring this on myself? I responded to his attention in the first place.
As soon as the thought enters my mind, I vehemently refute it with a sharp jerk of my head. “No. I will not blame myself.”
Nothing I do will change what happened to me. I was at a vulnerable age that caused a perfect storm. Mom might have driven my negative feelings about myself, but we both aren’t to blame for this. Henry preyed on me. He is the only one to blame.
Acknowledgement of it all hurts. It’s embarrassing to think a smart girl like myself could be duped. The truth I never dared face rakes me raw.
This is still a lot to think about all at once. I don’t know if I can do it by myself without breaking down. Before I’m swallowed by my emotions, I finish getting dressed.
After a quick search online, I find therapists in the area who can help me process this. I save a list of potentials to the note app on my phone. Whether I decide to seek out therapy or not, I want to be prepared when I’m ready to cross that bridge.
For now, I need to get ready or I’ll be late. Maisy is expecting me at the market. It’s one of our favorite holiday activities to do together. I’m not missing out on it when it’s exactly what I need—another afternoon with my best friend, hot chocolate with cinnamon and marshmallows, and something normal to take my mind off of all this for a while.
In the car on the way to meet Maisy, more memories and thoughts worm their way through the decimated remains of the mental walls, painting everything in a new light. It makes my heart beat hard and my palms sweat.
I want to stop thinking about it, but it’s like being dumped in ice water. Every time my mind jumps off it, the wet clothes remind me how tightly they cling to my skin. I don’t know how I lasted in denial about this for so long.
Would I ever have figured this out without Connor? Or would I have buried it deep down, pretending it was harmless, when in reality it was a poison flaring up when I least expected it?
Maybe I was an idiot.
With a sigh, I park the car. I’m not an idiot, but my mind is still jumbled. I’m beating myself up for something I couldn’t control.
I knew I was uncomfortable in some way talking to Henry, but I always brushed it off in order to please him, too worried to let go of the connection to him. What if I didn’t find someone else? I didn’t want to go back to being invisible again.
“It will be okay,” I murmur.
I grab my bag as I climb out of my car and follow the trickle of people walking to the holiday market. I didn’t have time to hide the file I took from Connor before I left, and I couldn’t chance Mom snooping, so I left it in my big purse and brought it with me. I might have come to terms with the truth about Henry abusing me, but I still need more time before going through whatever proof Connor handed over. Too much at once is devastating.
Besides, I’m here to take my mind off of this and enjoy the market with Maisy.
As I’m walking with the crowd, a couple catches my eye. I roll my lips between my teeth and push down the pang in my chest. I just need some time with Maisy, then I’ll talk to Connor.
