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“You told us your laptop crashed,” he states flatly.
“I’m sorry I lied,” I whisper.
Please don’t be angry with me. Please, please, please—
“Athelia.” My dad’s voice is gentle as he reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I wanted to prove that I could handle it on my own.” With a hollow laugh, I look up at my parents. “I didn’t want you guys to worry or tell me to come home. It was stupid, I know.”
“Honey,” Mom says soothingly, “we’re not judging you. This isn’t your fault. It’s theirs.”
“I wish you’d told us over Thanksgiving break,” Dad says darkly. “I would’ve beaten the shit out of them.”
My father has always been a gentle man. I don’t think he’s ever hit someone, but I know he would for me or Mom. He’d never stand a chance against the guys, though—not with what they do for work.
“You told me last night that you’re still feeling conflicted,” Mom says. “You’re not sure you’re making the right choice in cutting them off?”
“They apologized,” I say weakly. “And they’ve been so caring over the past two months. They’ve helped me—”
They’ve helped me heal.Not just by supporting me and encouraging me, although the guys have done plenty of that. But they’ve shown me that sex can be good again. That I can experience my fantasies consensually—healthily. My relationship with the guys has been toxic for years, but they’re working to change that.
“They’ve helped you what?” Dad asks.
What am I supposed to say?If I tell my parents the boys helped me heal, they’ll ask from what, and I don’t want to talk about Professor Kammes with them. There’s nothing they can do, anyway.
“They’ve helped me grow,” I say. “It’s like they’re completely different than who they were three years ago—three months ago.”
“Yeah,” Dad says, “because they want something from you now.”
Oh.Is that true? Could it be? Is it possible that they’re only treating me well now so that I’ll stay with them?
No—no, that can’t be it. They forced me into living with them. They could’ve forced me into everything else.
“It just feels like they’ve changed,” I whisper.
“Whether they have or not, you’re worth finding someone who’d be horrified at the thought of hurting you.” Mom gives me a sad look. “I know you’re unsure of what step to take, but honey… can you truly forgive them?”
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
My parents exchange a glance, and I brace myself for whatever is about to come my way. A lecture? Are they going to try to control me? Take my phone away and never let me leave the house again?
“We understand you’re an adult now,” Dad starts off slowly. “It’s not like we can tell you what to do anymore. But Thelia… I strongly suggest you never speak to them ever again.”
I stare at my phone, which is sitting on the table next to my empty plate. I woke up to a flood of texts and calls from the guys. It hasn’t even been a day since I last messaged them, but they’re already worried out of their minds.
I can’t deny that it feels good. Even though I don’t want to hurt them, I really,reallydo.
“Let them go,” Mom says. “At least for now. Give yourself some time and space away from them so you can get a more objective view on things.”
“No, not just for now.” Dad crosses his arms. “They don’t deserve you, and no matter how hard they try, they’ll never be able to make up for this. How do you know you can trust them? Thelia,please. There are others out there who will treat you with love and respect from day one. You’re worth that. I promise.”
My phone goes off with a notification.
Wes:Talk to me.
“Athelia,” Dad says.“Please.You at least owe it to yourself to see other people. You have a chance at happiness—a chance at a relationship built on trust. Don’t throw that away for three boys who’ve bullied you for most of your college career.”
The message from Wes disappears as my screen shuts itself off. I blink, surprised I’m not close to tears.
