Love Found in California (The Washington Triplets) by Melissa Rolka Page B

relentlessly. The shame I felt was nothing compared to how incredibly stupid I felt for trusting him, for liking him even. It made me feel as if I asked for it. In the end, I felt completely and utterly destroyed.
    When Eric rolled off me I gasped, but no noise came out of my mouth. My sobs were quiet, yet my ears were flooded with white noise. He mumbled some words that were incoherent to me and then as he opened my door he said, “Fuck, let’s not tell anyone about this.”

I DID IT. I SPILLED my guts, telling Ryan every gory detail of that night. I never even paused to cry or take a deep breath. Now, besides my therapists, Ryan is the only person who knows everything. Even my mom did not know all of this and she certainly never knew that Eric Black was the reason I stayed in my room locked up for months. No one knew that it was because of Eric that I stayed at home, never went to college with my sisters and became recluse.
    Deep heavy breaths fill the silence of the room from not only me, but Ryan too, while my mind and body swim with anxiety. The fear I felt before the words left my mouth has only increased. Now that I have something solid and concrete to lose, my heart feels the heaviest it’s felt in ages.
    The thing about rape is that it’s one thing for your mind to know what occurred was indeed rape, but that reasoning is never delivered to your heart and soul. My heart and soul seem to always doubt and put the blame on me. Still even now, after just reliving the event, I curse myself for ever having that stupid crush and for liking it when he kissed me.
    I can only imagine the thoughts swimming through Ryan’s head right now … I sit here stiff, praying that he isn’t angry with me for keeping this from him. I’m sure there is a pool of memories between us that had struck him as odd, but now make some kind of sense. The thing is though, I know I’m odd, certainly more odd after that day, but I also know I’ve made progress over the years.
    Sitting there stiff, barely able to take in my next breath, I notice the dip in the bed beside me. Ryan is pacing the small space between the bed and the windows, fists clenched at his sides, jaw ridged and head shaking ever so slightly.
    “Shit,” I hear Ryan grit out, even though his jaw is locked.
    My breathing picks up in speed as dark thoughts and feelings begin to invade the open space of my mind. Red and blues swirl through me as I think that maybe I shouldn’t have shared this. It’s too much. Maybe Ryan views me as damaged goods or feels I deserved it or …
    “Did your parents know about this?” Ryan demands, still pacing back and forth. Not being able to read his reaction, I stand up in the hopes of evening my breathing out. I beg myself to not panic. “Mik, answer me.” His voice is hoarse and raw.
    “No … not really. My mom knew something, but not the details.” One breath at a time I begin to step closer to him. Tears stain both of his cheeks and his wet lashes lay clumped together along the tender skin just below his closed eyes. He’s standing still for the first time since I finished telling him.
    “Fuck, I’ll kill ‘em, Mik,” he states clear as day, jaw slackened a little now.
    “Ry?” I whisper, but he doesn’t answer. “Ry?” I ask a little louder.
    “What Mik? What?” he questions too loud, anger prevalent in his tone. His eyes open and they look wild, unfocused.
    “You’re scaring me,” I mutter with my eyes beginning to pool with tears.
    “Why didn’t you tell them? It’s been too long now. He should have paid for his crime.” Again he starts pacing.
    “I didn’t tell them because …” I pause remembering exactly why I didn’t tell them the horrid details. I would never have told my dad, but my mom I could have. Instead I kept it locked up inside me, unsure of my own wrongs. My mom is gone now, so there’s no way for me to know if I could have ever told her. She did her best to comfort me considering she only