Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The door creaked as Asha stepped into the house, the afternoon heat lingering on her skin. The shopping bags she carried felt heavier than they should, weighed down not by their contents but by the unease gnawing at her. She nudged the door closed with her hip, letting the screen door slap shut behind her, its sound oddly satisfying in the quiet.
In the kitchen, she dropped the bags onto the counter with more force than necessary. The impact sent a bag of apples rolling out, but she ignored it, too caught up in the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She slammed open the cupboard and shoved the canned goods into place, each clink of metal against the shelf punctuating her frustration.
“Something wrong with the cupboards?” Her dad’s query drifted from the doorway, his tone light but edged with curiosity.
She paused, hovering her hand over the next can, and glanced over her shoulder. Her dad leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow arched in a way that made her chest tighten. He looked so much like Zane in that moment—same steady presence, same way of observing her without prying. She clenched her jaw and shook her head, turning back to the task at hand.
“No, Dad. Nothing’s wrong,” she muttered, her voice clipped.
“You sure? Because it looks like those poor cupboards have done something to upset you.”
Asha exhaled sharply and closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s not the cupboards.” Her shoulders sagged as she placed the last can on the shelf.
Her dad stepped further into the room, crossing his arms. “Are you mad about the spanking?”
The question caught her off guard, and her cheeks heated. She spun around to face him, with a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “No, Dad. I’m not mad about that. It’s... it’s complicated.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “What is? Zane and you?”
Her stomach twisted at the directness of his question. She busied herself unpacking the next bag, moving her hands automatically as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Maybe,” she hedged. “Probably. I don’t know.”
He moved closer, softening his voice. “Are you ever going to tell me why you left and stayed away for so long? Why we always had to visit you in Columbus?”
The weight of his words pressed against her chest, and the familiar sting of shame crept in. “Maybe I will,” she said quietly, not meeting his gaze. “Someday.”
“Will you tell someone?” He leaned against the counter, his regard steady but not unkind. “Maybe Zane. That boy deserves an explanation, Asha.”
Her throat tightened at the mention of Zane accompanied by the memory of his hazel eyes, so full of determination and emotion. He did deserve an explanation. How was she supposed to make him understand something she could hardly put into words? She shook her head, her response trembling with uncertainty. “Yes, he does. But... I’m not sure a man would understand this.”
Her dad frowned, his brow furrowing. “A man…” His expression shifted as realization dawned. “Does your mom know?”
“No,” she blurted, that syllable cutting through the air like a blade. “And I’m not going to spring this on her when she’s in rehab. She doesn’t need this right now.”
He nodded as he deliberated her reply, his gaze thoughtful. “Then talk to your girlfriends.”
Asha let out a humorless laugh, brushing her hand against the edge of the counter. “I don’t exactly have a lot of friends here, Dad. Not anymore.”
“I’m sure Gina would like to talk with you,” he offered.
Gina. The image of her friend’s straightforward green eyes and no-nonsense demeanor flashed in her mind, followed by Maddy’s soft, round face and the warmth she carried like a shield. Maddy was a doctor. Doctors had patient confidentiality. The thought sparked something—a flicker of hope in her mental chaos.
“You’re right, Dad,” she said, her resolve growing. “I need to talk to someone, and I just thought of the perfect person to do so.”
Her dad’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Asha reached out to briefly squeeze his hand. “Thanks for pushing me on this.”
“Anytime, kiddo.” He patted her hand before stepping back, giving her the space she needed.
Asha stared out of the window, allowing her gaze to drift over the small garden outside. The sunlight was softer now, casting long shadows over the neatly trimmed grass. She swallowed hard, her throat tight with the weight of their conversation. The air inside felt stifling, too heavy.
She clenched her hand around her cell phone. Just call. Stop overthinking it.
Before she could change her mind, she swiped through her contacts and tapped on Maddy Quinn-Santana’s name. The phone rang twice before someone with a warm, familiar voice answered.
“Asha! It’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”
Asha hesitated, curling her fingers against the edge of the counter. “Hi, Maddy. I’m... I’m okay. Actually, I was wondering if I could come by your office. I need to talk.”
After a slight pause on the other end, Maddy spoke softly. “Of course. Are you able to see me in half an hour?”
“Yes.” Relief washed over Asha. “Thank you, Maddy. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes?”
“Perfect,” Asha replied.
Once she’d ended the call, she slipped her phone into her pocket and stepped outside.
The doctor’s office was quiet, the soft hum of a ceiling fan blending with the faint rustle of papers at the front desk. Maddy greeted her with a warm smile and gestured for Asha to follow her into a private room, the familiar scent of antiseptic and lavender calming yet disconcerting.
Asha sank into the chair across from Maddy’s desk, resting her hands awkwardly in her lap. The room felt both safe and suffocating, the weight of what she was about to say pressing down on her chest.
“So,” Maddy began gently as she leaned forward with an open, inviting expression on her sweet face. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’m here as a patient. That means what we discuss stays between us, right?”
Maddy frowned before nodding. “That’s correct.”
Asha hesitated, twisting her fingers together. She stared at the edge of the desk, the grain of the wood blurring as her vision swam. “It’s... hard to talk about,” she admitted shakily.
Maddy nodded. “Take your time.” The doctor leaned her forearms on the desk, her dark brown eyes warm and steady as she listened. Her black hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, the simple style highlighting her smooth skin—a few shades lighter than Asha’s. There was a natural grace in her posture, a quiet strength that made Asha feel both safe and seen.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Asha forced herself to meet Maddy’s gaze. “It’s about someone I trusted. Back in high school.”
Maddy’s forehead wrinkled, and concern was etched into her features. “Oh-kaayyy.”
Asha made fists, her nails biting into her palms. “He was a teacher. I thought... I thought he was my friend. Someone I could confide in, someone who cared.” Her voice wavered, the words scraping against her throat like shards of glass.
Maddy remained silent, her expression steady and supportive.
“It started small,” Asha continued, her voice trembling. “Compliments, little things that seemed harmless at first. I didn’t think anything of it. He made me feel seen, like I mattered. But then... it changed. He started getting... possessive. Calling me special, saying things that didn’t feel right, but I was too naive to understand.”
Her breaths came quicker, and she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady herself. “In the last month of high school, he got bolder. Touches that lingered too long, words that made my skin crawl. And then... prom night.” Her voice broke, and she looked away, her eyes stinging.
Maddy reached across the desk and rested her hand on Asha’s. “You don’t have to say more if you’re not ready.”
Asha shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I need to. He... he cornered me. Said I owed him for all his help, that I couldn’t just walk away.” Her throat tightened, the memory suffocating her. “I tried to fight him off, but he was... stronger.”
She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Maddy gave her a moment before she spoke. “Asha, I’m so sorry. What he did to you was wrong on every level. None of this is your fault.”
Asha wiped at her face, her breathing uneven. “I didn’t tell anyone. I just... left. I thought if I stayed away, I could forget it ever happened.”
Maddy’s eyes softened, her response firm but kind. “You survived something unimaginable, Asha. But you don’t have to carry this alone anymore. Have you thought about speaking up?”
“I can’t,” Asha shook her head vehemently. “He’s respected. Everyone here thinks he’s some kind of saint.”
Maddy leaned back into her chair, making the leather creak, her expression thoughtful and compassionate. “What he did to you was a violation of trust and power. If he did this to you, he could do it to someone else—or worse, he might already have.”
Asha’s stomach churned at the thought, her hands tightening into fists. “But what if no one believes me?”
Maddy spoke softly. “It’s not about them, Asha. It’s about you—and about protecting others who might be at risk. You said he’s a pillar of our society. Is he still teaching? Do you think his manners have changed?”
Asha flinched.
“Whether you decide to speak up or not, I’ll be proud of you for surviving and for finding the courage to face this.”
Asha dropped her gaze to her lap, her mind a whirlwind of fear, anger, and uncertainty. She wanted to stay silent, to bury the past and move on. But the thought of someone else going through what she had... it was almost unbearable.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered.
Maddy offered her a small, encouraging smile. “You’re stronger than you think, Asha. Whatever you decide, you won’t have to face it alone.”
The words lingered as Asha left the office, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. The inner conflict gnawed at her, each step feeling like she was walking a tightrope over an abyss.