Chapter 36
CECILIA
Sunday is therapy day. Yay.
That’s sarcasm, in case I wasn’t clear.
My phone buzzes and since Dr. Walker hasn’t come in yet, I take a quick glance at the screen.
Adriana: Think of your therapist like a five-year-old child.
Weird. Why would I do that?
Before I can respond, another text comes in.
Adriana: You’ll be less likely to want to strangle her when she asks you invasive questions.
She’s not wrong.
The door opens and Dr. Tabitha Walker steps inside. I type out a hasty “thanks” to Adriana and tuck my phone back into my pocket.
“Good morning,” she says, taking a seat across from me.
“How’s your week been?”
“Fine.” I tell her, already hating this conversation, but that’s not anything new.
“Anything you’d like to chat about today?”
“Nope.”
She scowls before heaving a long, suffering sigh. “Cecilia, we’ve been seeing one another for a while now, wouldn't you agree?”
Four months, three weeks, and six days. But who’s counting?
“Mm hmm.”
“These sessions would be much more productive if you chose to confide in me. I’m here to help. You know that, right?”
I huff out a breath. “I know,” I tell her. “But that doesn’t make this any easier.”
She smiles. “We’ll start right there. What about speaking to someone like myself makes you uncomfortable?”
It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes, but I manage it.
“Everything about this is uncomfortable,” I tell her.
“I don’t need to share my damage. No one wants to bring their trauma up to the surface.
It’s awkward, and it won’t make me feel any better.
” It’s hard enough keeping that shit buried deep down.
“How do you know unless you’ve tried?”
Trust me. I know.
“Let me ask you this,” she says. “You go to an OBGYN for your annuals, yes?”
Interesting change of direction, but whatever. I nod.
“And you get nearly naked in front of a stranger, someone you see maybe once or twice a year, and allow them to invade your most intimate parts.”
“I have.” But that was before. I haven’t been to my lady doctor since before the assault, and judging by my internal recoil at the mere mention of going, I doubt I’ll be making a follow-up appointment anytime soon.
“Why is that? What reason do you give yourself to justify the personal invasion?”
I see where she’s going with this. “It’s beneficial for my health,” I say, giving her the answer I know she’s looking for.
A satisfied smile spreads across her face. “Exactly. Oftentimes throughout our lives, we have to endure uncomfortable situations for the benefit of our overall health. This is one of those moments, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Sure.” Not really.
“So for today, can we live in our discomfort? Just for the next hour. After that, if you want to go back to sitting in silence and riding the hour out, I won’t pressure you.”
I look out the window.
“Can we try?”
Without making eye contact, I let out a resigned sigh.
“Fine.” I told Gabriel I needed to work on myself. That I don’t want to be broken.
I can’t rely on him to be the glue holding my cracks together. Joining the swim team is a start. And making a new friend is another step in the right direction.
Deep down, I know talking about everything that happened to me is something I can’t avoid forever. Like Adriana said, how am I supposed to move past all this if I don’t talk about it?
I might as well make today my day to try.
“But after today, if I want you to drop it, you will?”
She nods.
“Okay.”
“Very good. Would you like to dive into the deep end or wade in the shallows for a bit?”
Turning my attention back to her, I consider the question. Wading in the shallows is only going to prolong the pain. I’d much rather rip off the band-aid and get this over with. So, I guess I’m diving in.
“You already know that I tried to unalive myself,” I tell her and she nods.
As far as she’s aware, it’s the sole reason for me being here.
“Well, a little over a month before I slit my wrists ...” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
Say it. You just have to say those three words out loud. Come on. You can do this.
I take in a shuddering breath.
“I was raped.” There, I said it.
My confession takes Dr. Walker by surprise. I can see it in her eyes. The way she looks at me. There’s so much unspoken apology in her softening gaze. I’m drowning beneath the weight of it. I can’t look at her for more than a few seconds. Any longer and I’m going to lose my nerve.
Rip it off.
“It was at a frat party over summer break. Three guys were involved.” She pales, but I ignore her reaction.
I need to get all of it out on the table.
If I stop or slow down, I’ll choke on the words.
“Two of them forced me to perform oral. The third raped me fully, but I was drugged, so I don’t know the particulars of everything he did to me.
” I shrug. “After he put me on the bed is when it all sort of went black.”
She swallows hard, probably trying to gather her words, but I’m not finished. Not yet.
“The next morning, I woke up in an unfamiliar bed with bruises on my body and cum between my legs. The third guy, the one who raped me, he came into the room shortly after I woke up when I was still trying to get my bearings.” My laugh is hollow.
“He suggested we get our stories straight.” I clench my teeth, renewed anger coursing through my veins and I latch onto it.
“I thought he was insane. He was so freaking sure of himself, and all I could think about was how I needed to get away from him. How I had to get out of that room.”
I’m shaking now, struggling to keep it together.
“He let me go. Warned me to keep my mouth shut and then sent me on my way.” I grimace.
“Not that I listened. As soon as I got back to my dorm, I told one of my friends. She convinced me to go to my campus administration. It happened on campus grounds and we’re both students at PacNorth University.
I didn’t want them to get away with it, but I also didn’t want to draw a bunch of unwanted attention. ”
“Your father’s election?” she pries.
A single tear slips past my defenses, and I hastily swipe it away.
“Yeah. I’m sure you can imagine what the media is like when they get wind of something like that during an election year.
It’s never pretty.” Not for people like me.
“Going to admin, it wasn’t ideal. I wanted them to get arrested.
To go to jail. But I’m not stupid. I know the chances of that, so I figured, if they were kicked out of school, if they lost their positions on the soccer team, it’d be something.
” At the time, I convinced myself it would be enough.
“And what came of it?”
With my eyes closed, I whisper a single word. “Nothing.”
She’s quiet until I open my eyes. “There was no punishment for any of the boys?”
Baring my teeth in a grimace, I shake my head. “Not even a slap on the wrist.”
She nods, scribbling something down on her notepad. “Have you told your parents?”
I shake my head. “No. Why would I? No one believed me,” I tell her.
“When the guys were brought in, they said I made it up. They said I was drunk. That I threw myself at them. Not once did any of them deny what they did to me. But they made it sound like I wanted it. Like I was only mad after the fact because I regretted my own decision.”
I sniff. “Even my own friends turned their backs on me after that. So no, I never told my parents. I can’t take the idea of them finding out and not believing me, too.”
Dr. Walker jots something else down on her notepad before setting it aside.
“Was the assault your reason for attempting to take your own life?”
It’s not that easy to explain. The rape was bad. What Austin, Parker, and Gregory did to me, it seriously fucked me up. But everything afterward—realizing no one believed me. That nobody cared—it made everything so much worse.
There was no justice. No closure. My entire life was shoved over on its axis and theirs didn’t have so much as a bump in the road.
“That, plus everything that’s happened since.” It doesn’t help that I still go to school with those guys. That I have to see one or more of them almost every day.
“I imagine things began to feel hopeless at the time.”
Wiping my face, I nod. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Do you still feel the same sense of hopelessness now?”
“I—” I cut myself off and consider her question.
Life isn’t easy. It’s really fucking hard.
I’m still dealing with the nightmares, the panic attacks, and what is probably a case of PTSD, but …
I think about Gabriel. About joining the swim team.
I think about the study session with Gabe’s roommates and about making a new friend.
“No,” I tell her. “I don't feel hopeless like that.” Not anymore.
Our time ends shortly after that. She offers to extend the hour, but I’ve had enough for one day. She schedules my next appointment for a week from today ,and I leave her office, not feeling any better than when I first stepped inside.
When I walk to my car, I’m greeted by an unexpected surprise, though not an unwelcome one.
“What are you doing here?” Adriana stands beside my Jeep, a disposable coffee cup in each of her hands.
“Providing moral support in the form of caffeine.” She hands me one of the cups, and I bring it close to my chest. “It’s a hazelnut latte,” she tells me. “I don’t know what your regular order is.”
“This is perfect,” I tell her, taking a sip. Warmth seeps into me and I close my eyes, relishing the feeling as I exhale a deep breath.
I stopped by the restroom on my way out and splashed some water on my face, but I’m sure Adriana can tell I’ve been crying. Thankfully though, she doesn’t comment on it.
“We should do something fun this afternoon.” She climbs into the passenger seat of my SUV when I unlock it. Walking around, I settle myself inside and take another drink of my latte.
“Where’s your car?” I ask her.
“At home,” she says. “I took a rideshare, so we didn’t need to drive separately.”
Makes sense. We talked earlier about hanging out sometime today. Not that I expected her to show up outside of my appointment. But I’m not complaining. Already some of the ache in my chest is subsiding. Looks like Adriana is just what the doctor ordered today.
“Anything in particular you want to do today?” she asks as we make our way out onto the main road.
“Gabe asked if I’d come to his game this afternoon.” I don’t know why I said that out loud. I’d already decided against going.
Adriana turns to look at me, her penetrating stare drilling holes into the side of my face. “Do you want to go to Gabriel’s game?” she asks.
It feels like a trick question, so I shrug.
With a sigh, she slumps back in her seat. “That’s a yes.” I open my mouth to refute her statement, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “It’s fine. We can go. I actually like soccer,” she tells me. “I played a little as a kid, and it’s been a while since I’ve gone to a game, so why not?”
She gives me another considering look. “How are you with crowds?”
“Not great,” I admit.
Her sculpted brows are drawn together. “Okay. We’ll park toward the back of the lot so we can get out of there fast if we need to. You do alright at school, so you’ll probably be fine as long as we avoid the crush of bodies when everyone rushes to leave at the same time.”
Sounds like a good idea.
“What time is the game?”
“Two,” I tell her.
“Perfect. Enough time to eat and get ready.”