I poke out my tongue to add some playfulness to the intimacy firing in the air. If I don’t, I might misconstrue the looks he’s been giving me all evening as lusty ones. He was just protecting me. It’s naturally ingrained in him. His pulse was spiking because of the scary movies we were watching, not my closeness. Right?
Ignoring the voice in my head screaming out a resounding ‘no,’ I snatch up my retro alarm clock from the bedside table, then spin around to face Brandon. “What time is your appointment with Dr. Avery tomorrow? I don’t want you being late again.” When he remains quiet, confusion twists in my stomach. “You do have an appointment, right? It is Wednesday.”
I stop seeking an invisible wall planner when Brandon confesses, “I canceled my appointment.”
“BJ—”
He cuts me off with a confident tone. “I don’t need to go anymore. I’m good. I’ve got my head screwed back on.”
Although I want to believe him, I know depression isn’t something that’s cured in a matter of weeks. It may never leave him.
“I agree you’re doing better, but I still think you should attend your sessions. Talking helps, and Dr. Avery has a weird knack for getting people to open up.” I’ve been in therapy for years, yet I’ve never been as open and honest as I have been with Dr. Avery during my joint sessions with Brandon.
Brandon dumps the spare pillows off his bed onto the floor before slipping between the sheets. Since he’s so worked up, he’s forgotten about the pillow barrier he usually places between us each evening. “Can’t I just talk to you?”
“You wouldn’t open up to me, BJ. Not for what you need to get off your chest.” When he scoffs like I’m lying, I hit him with straight-up honesty. “Okay, then tell me why you read the report about my rape?”
His eyes snap to mine in an instant, and just as quickly, they fill with remorse. “Because I… I thought…” He drags a hand over his head as his eyes float down to his sleeping pants. “I thought if I knew what he did to you, I could make sure I didn’t hurt you the same way.”
Wow. That wasn’t what I was anticipating for him to say. I assumed he’d close up on me again, or that he’d lie to ensure he didn’t hurt me. I’m pleased he didn’t, but I’m still shocked.
After joining him in bed, I scoot across the mattress until our thighs are nearly touching. “Did you ever think to ask me if I had any triggers instead of reading the report? You know what those documents are like, BJ. They’re so cut and dry and de—”
“Demoralizing,” he fills in, peering back at me. “The entire time I was reading it, I couldn’t see you. The way you spoke and what you said, none of it made it seem as if it were you. It was just another report on yet another victim.”
When I see the words he can’t speak in his eyes, I voice them for him. “Until that night in my room?”
I think I’m on the money until Brandon shakes his head. “I wasn’t seeing you then either. I was seeing him. I was seeing Madden.” When his eyes drift over my face, the pain in his eyes softens to regret. “Then I wondered if he was who you were seeing, too.”
“Oh, BJ.” I inch across the mattress until there’s no doubt our thighs are touching. “He wasn’t on my mind. He has never been on my mind anytime I’ve been with you.” Even knowing this will hurt him, I have to be honest. “It was quick, the assault barely lasted a few minutes. It doesn’t take away from what happened, or how wrong he was, but it means I only have to squeeze a few minutes of horror between years and years of happiness.”
After tugging back the sheet, I straddle Brandon’s lap like I disastrously did all those weeks ago. I’m not going to kiss him or beg for him to let me take away his pain. I just don’t want the odd angle of our heads to have him missing the absolute honesty in my eyes when I say, “Madden tried to take away my worth, my self-respect, my confidence, and my voice. To begin with, he won. I was silenced by Joey’s death.”
My eyes bounce between his when I say, “But he’s learning differently now. I’m not a victim of his. I