25 #2
Huxley continues to stare out the window for a long time, not saying anything. He looks like he could say something else, but the irritation in his eyes fades, and I know the words he was going to say did too.
“When you mentioned your brother, you said he had to take JJ’s last name.” He finally looks at me, the conversation of his family done. “Why is that?”
I look down at my hands, unable to look at him now. “My parents didn’t accept the marriage. So Will thought it was better to take JJ’s last name.”
“Did they not accept the marriage because he was young or because he’s gay?”
I scoff. “What do you think?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he places his hand on the seat between us, palm side up. I smile and slip my hand into his. His thumb rubs back and forth over the back of my hand in gentle strokes.
“I think your parents are assholes,” he suddenly says.
I burst out laughing. Not just because of his suddenness, but his accuracy, too. Huxley watches me, my smile shining on his face.
Something flickers in his eyes when I calm down. It’s not enough to take his smile, but there’s something there.
“Valentina,” he says softly.
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
I nod. “Sure.”
He looks down at our hands and brings his other hand up to draw circles on top of mine. “What happened at the party?”
My body freezes. “What?”
He looks up at me, and that little flicker from before is now filling his eyes—a pain that I can’t understand. “What happened at the party?” he asks again, this time in a lower, more serious tone.
I shake my head. Why is he bringing this up now? “Huxley, you were there.”
“But what happened before I was there?” he reiterates. “What made Carson follow you outside?”
I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to think about anything from that night. That’s why we’re here. He said he wanted to make it all up to me.
“Why do you want to know about that?” I ask, begging him to drop it.
“Because I want to know exactly what that fucker did to you.”
“You know the worst of it, isn’t that enough?”
Huxley pulls his hands from mine and turns away.
“Are you serious?” I gape at him. “You’re mad at me for not telling you?”
“Just forget it, Valentina,” he mumbles, still staring forward.
Fuck this.
I get out of the truck to get some air, but it’s not even two seconds later that Huxley’s door slams shut behind me. I turn around as he rounds the hood of the truck.
“Why can’t you understand that I just want to know what happened to you?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about it, Huxley! That should be enough to leave it alone.”
His jaw tightens, forcing him to speak through clenched teeth. “He hurt you.”
“They mainly just said stuff.”
His eyes widen in anger. “They?”
I freeze, but Huxley takes several steps closer to me.
“Who else was it?” he asks in a low voice that tells me if I told him the name of the other guy right now, he’d jump in the truck and track him down. What he’d do once he got there is something I don’t know.
Or maybe I don’t want to know. The last thing I need is him going around punching people for saying shit they shouldn’t have.
“What are you going to do if I tell you?”
He shakes his head. “I just want to know.”
“Then why does it matter?”
“Because I should have been there!” he yells, jamming his hand into his chest. “I should have been with you! I let them hurt you!”
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes narrow at me. “What?”
“Why did you say you let them hurt me?” Saying those words myself baffles me even more. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is Valentina. They saw you with me and had all these assumptions about you because of it. I gave them a reason to go after you.”
“You didn’t give them anything, Huxley. They’re shitty people who think they can do whatever they want with someone because of the tiniest thing. They probably have pulled moves like that on a bunch of other girls. I was just the first one that said no.”
He turns away from me and runs his hand through his hair, gripping some of it tightly. “We should have never gone to that party.”
I frown. “But you said it was—”
“I know what I said, Valentina.”
Anger rises in my veins. If he wants to know, then I’ll tell him.
I march up and pull him to face me. He eyes me cautiously before I tell him exactly what he wanted me to tell him.
“You want to know what they said to me? Fine. They told me that I must be good in bed to be with you. And that since I’m with you, I should want to have fun with them too. But I told them it wasn’t like that. So instead, they said that I must be a virgin, and you were turning me into a sex slave.”
Huxley closes his eyes and turns his head away. “Just stop,” he painfully whispers, but I can’t stop. I’m too worked up to stop.
“I left the room and went outside. Carson followed me, and he told me I was going to give him what he wanted. And that since you weren’t there to stop him, he was taking what he deserved.”
Anger flashes in Huxley’s eyes. I know he’s not mad at me, but I’m mad at him.
He made me relive all that. One of the scariest moments of my life that I thought was behind me.
Now it’s all back in my head. The feeling of Carson’s arms around me, dragging me to his truck.
The sound of his voice ringing in my ear, ignoring my screams.
With the crushing weight of that night pressing into me, I turn away from Huxley and walk closer to the edge, forcing my feet to stay a few feet back and not go over.
It would be so easy. Just one misstep and it’d all be over.
Please stop.
I feel my feet start to move, but a pair of hands land on my shoulders, grounding me in place. When I don’t pull away, Huxley slides his arms around my chest, pulling me into him, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. My body relaxes into him, and he tightens his hold around me. “I shouldn’t have made you tell me all that. I wasn’t thinking about how much it would hurt you to relive it.”
I bring my hands up and grab onto his arms. “Neither of us knew this would happen,” I say softly, my anger nearly all gone. “So don’t think it was your fault.”
He softly kisses my shoulder. “I’m still so sorry.”
I grip his arms tighter, trying to steady myself here with him.
“We have to stop fighting,” I say after a long silence. “Relationships aren’t supposed to be spent fighting each other all the time.”
He nods, brushing his head against mine in the process. “I agree.”
I lean back further into his arms, and he kisses my temple. The simple action keeps me here while my mind teeters on the edge.
I don’t want to fall again.
I can’t fall again.
I just wonder how long Huxley will stick around if I do ever get to that point. Because I worry that if I do, I may never come back.