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“I was sexually assaulted, but my inability to come wasn’t because of what he did to me.”
The sudden switch in conversation to something so momentous was disorienting. “Okay,” he said. “Can you come here?”
“What he did, it didn’t make me afraid of sex. Or men. Not the way you think. And I never thought it was my fault. The rape. I know it wasn’t.”
He took another step closer to her, not wanting to crowd her but wanting her close. “I’m glad you know that, princess. Now please, come here.”
“Why?” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
He felt his own eyes watering.
“Because if we’re going to talk about this, I need to hold you, but I don’t want to scare you, so I need you to come to me. Please?”
A sob wrenched out of her throat, then she rushed to him. He wrapped his arms around her. She shook and cried, but she didn’t sob, didn’t become hysterical. He hoped that was because, even though she’d never been completely free from what had happened, the memory had lost some of its power.
He picked her up and walked over to her couch, where he sat and held her in his lap. “Is this okay?”
She nodded against his chest.
He held her for almost an hour, with neither of them saying a word.
Eventually, she pulled away. She stared at his chest and reached out to play with his shirt collar. “He didn’t make me afraid of having sex,” she said, “but I became afraid of wanting it. Ofneedingit. Of what might happen if I let myself completely let myself go. When sex was about someone else, it was fine; but when it was about me, it was harder.”
Shit, he thought. She was talking in circles, and it sounded like shedidfeel shame for what he did to her because why else would she think it was wrong to give in to her own desires?
“Skylar—”
“He was married. He was married, but I didn’t know it.” She laughed bitterly. “It didn’t occur to me to even check. I saw him, and I wanted him, and I went after him. We dated. It was fun. I liked making out with him but just making out. I wasn’t ready for more.”
I will sit here and listen to her because it’s what she needs. It’s what we need. Even though it’s tearing me apart to hear the pain in her voice and feel it in the way she trembles.
He gave her a gentle close-mouthed kiss on the lips, thankful as hell when she responded and didn’t withdraw from him. “Go on, princess,” he urged.
She swallowed hard. “It got to the point when he wasn’t satisfied with making out. He called me a tease. Accused me of playing games and said . . . and said . . . ” Her voice broke, and tears started to fall slowly down her face.
He caught them with his thumb but didn’t shush her or encourage hernotto cry. She needed this release.
“What did he say?”
“He said I was a slut who’d just wanted to cock tease a married man. I was floored. Shocked. I—I didn’t think about how dangerous it might be; I just yelled at him. Cursed him. Told him to get the fuck out. And that’s when he raped me.”
Julian took her hands in his and lifted them to his lips so he could kiss them repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry that happened to you. That he hurt you.”
She laughed bitterly. “He didn’t hurt me near enough.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Bruises. Cuts. Internal tearing. That was all.”
That wasall? What the hell?
“His poor wife, though . . . ”
When she said those words, he froze, and icy fingers trailed up his spine.
He’d always been good with piecing things together, and with those four words, a terrible suspicion formed in Julian’s mind. He hugged her tighter as her entire body started trembling. “What about his wife?”
“I reported what he did to the police. I didn’t want him to do it to someone else. The day after he was arrested, his wife killed herself.”
