CHAPTER 32
Things become strange between Janos and me after the episode in the hall. After the incident with the bathtub, we started talking more, but now it’s down to zero. Our physical contact, on the other hand, seems to say everything we can’t express through words. He’ll often take me in his lap and simply sit with me for a long time, and now he sleeps in bed with me every night.
But outside these moments of tender closeness, his way of handling me has become firmer and stricter. Not in the mechanical, cool way of the first night, though. Rather, it’s like he’s trying to hold on to me, afraid I’ll slip away. It makes me feel safe as much as it scares me. Safe because I know I mean something to him; terrified because it seems we’re both trying to hold on to something that’s slipping through our fingers.
As if the end is near.
There’s no going back after what happened, but we also can’t move forward. We can’t risk Gabor finding out because that might well mean the end for both of us. So now we’re stuck in this strange limbo, waiting for everything to go up in flames or crumble around our feet.
I’m scared every time Janos leaves the apartment. Scared he won’t come back. Scared he’ll decide it’s time to end things for good.
My anxiety hits the roof one night when he keeps casting me worried looks. All my alarm bells go off, and when he grabs my chin after dinner and levels me with an almost fretful expression, I know something is terribly wrong. His free hand comes up to brush my cheek while the other tightens to the point of pain. Like every other day, he doesn’t say a word.
I want to grab him and beg him to stay, fall to my knees and cling to his leg like the helpless animal I am. But I remain frozen in place, my chest clenching the air from my lungs as he gets up and walks away.
Despite everything I’ve been through, I’ve never felt as helpless as I do at this very moment. I just sit there, staring after him as his long strides take him away from me and he disappears out of the room and out of the apartment.
I’m certain this is the last time I’ll see him. The next time two suit-clad men come at night, Janos won’t be one of them. A new cold and mechanical man will grab me, take off my clothes, and hold me down while I’m raped.
It’ll be like having to go through the first awful nights all over again, only worse, because there won’t be the slightest trace of comfort to be found. And Janos won’t be there.
Pain claws at my insides like it’s trying to rip me apart. I can’t take it. I have to do something. Anything. Take back control.
Suddenly, I find myself in the kitchen, staring at the sharp knives in the top drawer. There’s only one way left to take control, and I desperately want to grab it. I can’t allow them to drag me through the horrible violation of another man abusing me again. There’ll be nothing left of me.
With a trembling hand, I pick up the largest knife and run my fingers over the edge. It’s as sharp as broken glass. It could break my skin at the slightest pressure.
With the back of the knife, I push up my left sleeve and stare at the blue veins that are easily visible beneath the fair skin on my narrow wrist. Carefully, I position the sharp edge over those veins.
One slice is all it takes. I would bleed out within minutes. End it all and escape this living hell.
I apply a little pressure and feel the outer layers of skin break. There’s no blood, so I pull slightly. I inhale sharply as my skin stings and deep red drops emerge around the knife.
One slice.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will myself to do it. But I can’t manage more than a little more pressure. Not enough to reach the artery. When I open my eyes, only a single stripe of blood runs down my arm.
I throw the knife away, making it jump across the floor with a metallic clatter. Sinking down against the cabinets, I break into miserable tears and bury my head in my hands. I hate myself for being this weak. All it takes is a single tug of my hand; the knife would do the rest—or lean a little farther out over the railing on the bridge, lose my balance, and then the water would take care of the rest. But I can’t even bring myself to do these simple things. I’m too weak to seize the last sliver of control within my grasp.
Instead, I leave myself at the mercy of strangers, who will slowly and painfully destroy me.