I passed out after my panic attack. I hardly remember anything but there was yelling at one point and I think Elija left. He left when I was helpless and couldnât breathe and I understand I must have hurt him by lying but I never wouldâve thought heâd do something like that. Not when I needed him most.
But I guess I overestimated how much he cared for me and the insignificance of my actions.
âYouâre up. Here, drink something,â a familiar voice speaks. I realize just then that Iâm no longer curled up on the floor but lying on a bed. Elijaâs bed. Itâs a punch to the gut. His mother mustâve found me at some point.
God, Iâm so ashamed.
âIâm sorry,â I say, not even attempting a façade. Iâm tired and I feel weak. The last thing I want to do right now is act and no matter how much I like this woman, I donât think Iâll see her for much longer. Not if Elija and I are over.
So I let Amelia see my pathetic sadness. Sadness over losing her son and the closest thing Iâve had to a loving mother figure.
âDonât apologize, Honey. Iâm just glad youâre okay,â she tells me, handing me the glass of water. I force myself to drink a bit, no matter how sick I feel.
âDo you need anything else?â she asks me patiently, those loving eyes on me. Itâs all I can do not to burst out crying. I just shake my head. âIâll get Elija then, okay?â sheâs watching my reaction closely. Too closely and it takes my everything not to give her a reaction. I just nod. So she walks off.
In the time it takes Elija to get here, I sit up straighter on his bed.
He finally steps into his room, staring at me from the doorway for a good few beats. I force myself to look at him. To gauge his reaction and figure out whatâs about to happen.
When he looks away and walks further into the room, he passes the bed and takes down my auntâs guitar. He hands it to me slowly and wordlessly, searching my face as he does.
As soon as the old wood is in my hands, I feel like something snapped inside me. Iâm no longer clinging to some metaphorical edge, desperate to get back up. Iâve let go and I am falling. Flying. Floating. Anything and nothing.
I feel nothing.
Not my bleeding heart or terrified mind. Iâm not angry or sad or hurt. Iâm just here, accepting defeat.
I nod at Elija before getting up from the bed. I make a move to pick up my things once more to finally get out of here but Elija stops me.
âWhat are you doing? I thought youâd stay here tonight?â he says slowly. That confuses me. He gave me back my auntâs guitar, that means weâre breaking up, doesnât it? Over, done, no longer in a position to spend the night together.
âThe guitar- I thought,â I say slowly. I watch as his eyebrows furrow and see the exact moment he realizes what I mean. He looks almost hurt as he jumps off the bed to walk toward me.
âThatâs not- Florence, Iâm not breaking up with you!â he says, almost as if the idea were horrifying.
âYouâre not?â I ask, not sure what to feel now.
âNo! Oh, god no. Never that, Florence.â He curses under his breath. âCan I hug you?â he asks slowly. His question confuses me, since when does he ask something like that? And whatâs with all that sadness in those pretty eyes of his?
I nod and he advances slowly, pulls me into his arms, and breathes me in.
âIâm sorry,â he says.
âItâs fine. Me too,â I reply automatically.
âDonât be. You had every right to open up about it on your own agenda. God, I just- I have so many questions. Can we talk about it?â he asks slowly. I nod against him but stay quiet. I want to soak this moment up for a little longer, enjoy the comfort heâs providing me with just some more.
âWhat do you want to know?â I finally ask against his chest. He moves us over to the bed and pulls me just as tight on there.
âWhen has it started? What happened?â
âIt happened for the first time when I talked to them. Remember, I told you everything went well and then we had that call⦠My parents had business partners over and my father had a lot to drink. He,â I sigh. He shouldnât have to hear this and I really donât want to talk about it. But then Elija squeezes my shoulder slightly and puts on the song he made for me and my next breath comes a little easier.
âI was already in my room and it was after midnight when he called my name. I knew something was wrong but went to the living room all the same. He was upset about something, I think. He slapped me and told me something was my fault but wouldnât tell me what,â I catch myself and stop at that. My boyfriendâs body is completely tense and I donât need to torture him further.
âThe next day you wouldnât hug me or even look at me. Were you in pain?â he asks slowly.
âYeah. Iâm sorry, Elija. Really.â He kisses my temple and shakes his head.
âDonât apologize. Just, why that long? Why didnât you say anything?â Right on time, thereâs a lump in my throat.
âI donât know. I thought it was a one-time thing. Part of me even thought I did something to deserve it. And I felt so stupid because I got mad at you hours before for insinuating my parents werenât to be trusted. You were right.â
âYou didnât deserve that. You know that, right?â he asks, turning his head to look at me. I nod and he sighs.
âWhat about your mother? Did you tell her? Did she know?â
âI think she knew. I- I screamed for her when it happened but she never came. Then, the last time it happened she kind of warned me that she was tired enough not to hear the end of the world. She seemed really content that night. Iâm not sure if she knew or was in on it,â I tell him. Itâs a suspicion Iâve had since what happened the night Elija was over.
âHow many times did he do something?â he asks.
âTwo,â I whisper. Elija curses and holds me closer.
âAnd he hit you? Did he do anything else,â he asks, wincing as he does as if the thought alone hurt him.
âIâm sorry,â I whisper. He tenses, probably thinking the worse so I quickly go on. âIt wasnât much. He just⦠touched me over my clothes. It was nothing, I swear I didnât want it,â I say. What if thatâs considered cheating?
âFuck, Florence, I know you didnât. Iâm so, so sorry I didnât know. I knew something was wrong but I didnât want to push you, scared of what Iâd find. Iâm so sorry,â he says miserably.
âPlease donât blame yourself.â I donât want him to carry a burden that heavy. It wasnât his fault.
âDo you know why he did it?â he asks, rubbing his free hand over his face.
I bite my lip, really not wanting to tell him. It will only hurt him.
âYou donât have to tell me but if you can, please do.â I sigh and give my boyfriend a kiss on the cheek. A kiss for being so understanding and patient.
âThe last time was on Saturday,â I tell him.
âAfter or before I came over?â
âAfter. He snuck into my room. He told me he knew that weâve had sex and that I was torturing him and too desperate for someone to touch me. But it wasnât your fault any more than it was mine. It was his, okay?â
âYeah. Yes, okay.â
âAny more questions?â I ask him, turning my face so I can see him.
âIs there anything you want to say?â
âNo, I think thatâs all. Thank you for letting me stay. Iâll figure out a long-term solution tomorrow,â I tell him but he brushes me off.
âWe will figure something out, Florence. We, not you. Weâre in this together, Iâm not letting you do this alone. Now, how about we eat something? We skipped dinner and after the workout we completed earlier, we need some energy. You up for it?â He asks. I smile softly and nod. Itâs been too long since I ate and itâs always easy to do with Eli.