Chapter Thirty-Three MAE
Chapter Thirty-Three
MAE
Phoebe studied me from across the table at Firehouse Café. “What's up?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“I told Rowan I needed some time, and I'm cranky about it,” I said honestly.
“What for? You two were all lovey-dovey.”
“I know.”
I thought for a minute about whether I wanted to tell her the whole messy story. I decided I might as well confide in someone because the few people who knew what actually happened aside from Rowan were my college friends. I’d shoved it down into the memory banks after that.
“Did I ever tell you why we stopped being friends to begin with?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
Phoebe shook her head slowly. “You were pretty vague.”
“I kind of freaked after I became a statistic.”
“A statistic?”
“Yep. Rowan’s roommate spiked my drink and raped me. I couldn't deal, so I just cut off all contact. I’m a college sexual assault stat.”
Phoebe's hand flew to her chest, her eyes going wide with her gasp. “Oh, my god, Mae. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?”
I felt strangely calm, just as I had when I told my mother. Although, my body felt a little tingly, almost like static. “Yeah. I think so.”
“What does this have to do with you and Rowan now? He didn’t take that guy’s side or anything?” A look of horror crossed her face.
“Oh, god, no! I didn’t even tell him back then. They weren’t close. None of the guys liked him, so Rowan and his other friends got another place after that semester.”
“What does this have to do with him now?” she repeated. “Does Rowan know what happened?”
I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. It’s weird.
I got this email from Chet, and then Rowan talked to his dad and an attorney about it when he was back in North Carolina.
It feels—” I sighed. “I don't, I don't even know how to explain.
I don't want… I actually…” I kept stuttering over my own words, frustrating myself.
“Back when it happened, I did go talk to the campus sexual assault team about it.
They were nice, but they explained that the case would be really difficult to pursue since I didn't remember much. I decided then not to do anything about it, and I don't want to open it back up now. I just want to move on. I’m upset that Rowan talked to somebody about it without asking me.”
Phoebe studied me quietly for a moment. “I get it,” she finally said.
“I really do. It's yours to figure out. But I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that maybe rather than cutting him out, you let him know you need him to respect how you feel about it going forward. That’s always an option.”
My heart literally ached in my chest. “I know that's an option.” I twisted a napkin between my fingers. “Then there's that stupid email. I don't know what to do about that.”
“Tell that asshole to fuck off. Do not let this guy have power over you. Maybe you're not going to take him to court, but what the fuck? Do you really think it's because Rowan talked to somebody? I mean, how would this guy even know about that? That doesn't make sense.”
“It's weird. I don’t understand how he knows I talked to anyone.”
Phoebe nodded firmly. “Yeah, it's fucking weird and creepy and intimidating. I’m sure that’s his point. Maybe you don't want anything to happen about the past and I get that, but don't let this guy fuck with you from a distance like that.”
“I don't know what to do, though.” I shrugged, hating the sense of helplessness elicited by a mere email.
My friend, a tough as hell hotshot firefighter and who probably had way more nerve than me, pursed her lips.
“If you don't want to do anything, then I say just block him and go from there.
You're probably not going to hear any more from him.
Or reply and ask him. What's the worst that could happen?”
My stomach flipped over. I stared at her. “Uh, I don't know.”
“You're here in Alaska. He's not going to show up here. Like, that's crazy. He has far more to lose than you do.”
“Except for my peace of mind. That's why I didn't want Rowan to talk to anyone about it without asking me. He just went and did that.”
“This guy's email has already fucked with your peace of mind. I also can’t help but wonder if you’re upset with Rowan because he’s safe to be upset with.”
“What do you mean?” Now, my stomach churned uncomfortably. Not out of fear but a sense of doubt.
“I mean, you can’t do a damn thing about the past, but you can do something about now. It’s not okay that Rowan went all manly helpful, but he is someone you can react to now. He does respect you, so you can be upset, and it’s safe.”
“Oh.” I eyed her.
“Let's do it together.”
“Do what together?”
Phoebe shrugged casually, her attitude all no-big-deal. “Reply to that email.”
My heart was pounding in a reckless, sick beat. Suddenly, I realized something. I was letting Chet’s email get to me. Fuck him.
“Okay, what do we say?”
“Type it in your notes first. Don't just hit reply.”
“Always smart,” I replied with a firm nod.
Phoebe scooted her chair around to my side of the table, offering, “Don't obsess over it. Just say something direct and blunt.”
“Uh, okay.” I pulled up my notes.
After a little tinkering with Phoebe reviewing the final product, I replied, “I can talk to whoever I want. Don't fucking email me again and leave me alone. If you don’t, I might pursue my legal options.”
I looked over at Phoebe. “You really think I should send this?”
She nodded vigorously. “Hell fucking yes! I know that red dot is driving you crazy, isn't it? It's the only unopened email you have.”
“Yeah, it's driving me nuts.” I rolled my eyes.
She laughed. “Just do it.”
Phoebe's courage and direct approach were infectious. I finally felt like I wasn't letting this hold my emotions hostage anymore. I opened his email, pasted in my reply, and hit send before I could think any further about it.
“Now block his email, and it'll go into your trash. If you decide to open it, you can, but it won't give you the red dot,” she offered matter-of-factly.
“I freaking hate those!” I burst out laughing.
Phoebe grinned over at me just as a server stopped by to ask if we wanted more coffee. Once he moved on, I looked over at her. “Enough about me. How are you doing with the whole wedding thing?”
“Well, that was a quick shift.”
I waved my hand in the air. “I’m fine. I really don’t want to dwell on that. I swear. We dealt with my thing.”
She eyed me skeptically. “First, what are you going to do about Rowan?”
“Ugh! I haven't decided. I need a little more time to think about it. We're not done, I swear. Now…” I paused and hitched my brows. “Let’s talk about what the hell you’re going to do about Tasha’s wedding.”
She drummed her fingertips on the table. “Nothing. There's nothing I can do. I'm not going to be her bridesmaid, though, and I already told her.”
“Good for you. Honestly, I still can't believe she had the nerve to ask. When is the wedding?”
“Valentine’s Day,” she ground out.
“Oh, my god. You're fucking kidding me. Valentine's Day?”
“Yeah. She said she wanted a winter wedding.” Phoebe wrinkled her nose at that.
“Who does that?”
“Does what?”
“Marry their ex-best friend’s ex in their hometown on freaking Valentine’s Day,” I said flatly.
“My former friend when she's trying to rub it in.”
“Are you sure you're over your ex?” I pressed.
Phoebe let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I really am. I thought about breaking it off for months before I did. But this sucks. He was screwing around on me with the person I thought was my best friend.”
“I know, I know. It’s so shitty.”
“Every time I think about it, I get angry. And then, I get angry with myself for being angry because I shouldn't care. Like, I don't want to be with him, but I can’t get over what she did.”
“Oh, it's a huge violation of trust. Tasha broke a key friend rule. It’s totally not cool to screw around with your friend’s fiancé.
That she asked you to be in the wedding is next-level crazy.
I'm sure we can rustle up a collective town refusal to attend the wedding. It can just be her and her parents,” I offered.
Her hair swung around her shoulders as she shook her head swiftly. “No, no. I don't want to do that.”
“What are you going to do about Archer?”
“I'm trying to figure that out.”
“Have you seen him yet?”
“Nope. Apparently, he's coming to town right after Christmas.”
“Well, that is going to be an interesting conversation. I can’t wait to hear about it.”