Page 64 of Affliction

The only person who knew this story was Ally. Telling Catherine made me feel like a small child confessing an indiscretion to her mother. And shame—my story made me feel full of it. How would she react? What would she think of me? The questions swirled in my mind as my palms continued to moisten.

I gently knocked on her office door and waited.

“Come in,” I heard her call. Taking a deep breath, I entered the office.

Catherine was at the desk, scanning something on her laptop screen. As soon as she saw me standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with warmth, and her smile beamed at me.

“Hey, Mia. What’s up? Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.” Catherine leaned back in her chair as she studied me.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to talk to you.” My voice came out small in the large space.

“All right, come on in and have a seat. I saw the invite to the Inlet for Hope Ball, and I had Ally RSVP for you. I’m also working on some remarks for you.”

I nodded, lowering myself into the chair in front of her desk. My heart thundered in my chest. How could I share this with her? Do I just dive in? Or should I ease her into it?

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. A headache was starting to form behind my eyes. I was going to need some serious caffeine or a migraine pill. I leaned over Catherine’s desk and buzzed Ally on the intercom.

Her sweet voice answered me. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” I replied. “Can you please bring me some water and a pill? I’m getting a migraine.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I told her.

Ally came in swiftly with two bottles of water and a small cup with two white pills. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Ally left with a reassuring smile in my direction.

“Ally knows why you’re in here, huh?”

“Yeah, she does. She told me to come talk to you,” I admitted.

“Come on, out with it. I know it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

“I can’t go to the Inlet ball,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Why is that?” Catherine asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the desk.

“I can’t go because I can’t lie to those people. I always get invited to the ball, but I never attend—ever. It’s just a rule I have. They will ask questions I won’t want to answer.

“You’re not making any sense. Why would you have to lie to anyone?”

“Because I’m a survivor of domestic abuse, and if I go there and speak at the ball, I will lie to avoid sharing my story. That isn’t fair to those wonderful people who work at the shelter with women who are a lot stronger than me. Women who will share their stories, who are brave enough to stand up and say what I never could. I was abused by a man I was dating. I was brutally beaten, not once but twice. I was able to get away from him and most days I live in fear that he’ll come back for me.”

I grabbed the bottle of water, took the two pills, and swallowed deeply.

“Do you want to tell me the story?” Her voice was so warm, soft, and motherly, that in that moment, I did.

“Ally is the only one who knows.”

“I see. I could tell you that someone in my position needs to know so I can effectively assist you should something come up. But I want you to know I’m here, and I’m a great listener. And I’d never tell a soul.”

I smiled at her. I wanted to open up to her. It was just hard to admit I let someone into my home and my heart, and he did those awful things to me.

“Do you think you’ll have to handle any questions about me not attending the ball? Or would anyone draw any conclusions if I didn’t go?” The hesitation and fear were prominent in my voice.

Catherine reached across the desk and smiled warmly at me. “I don’t know. I think it would be fine. I think the press wouldn’t put too much thought into it because you’ve done charity work for the Inlet for Hope before. So that shouldn’t be a problem. But I do think if someone asks you a question and it catches you off guard, the faltering of your voice or unease in your stare would clue them in. You haven’t attended one of these before and that’s fine, but now they’re honoring you. You should definitely attend. But I warn you these are star-studded events, so there will be plenty of press and a red carpet to walk. So it’s up to you how you want to handle this. I’m here if you want to talk.”

I sipped on my water, thinking it over. “I don’t want to have to tell anyone at the ball my story.”

“I understand that, and I wouldn’t expect you to. I get it, trust me. Like I said, we can manage all of this without you having to say another word about it. We just have to make sure you’re well practiced for any questions you might be asked at the ball or if you chose to walk the red carpet. It would all be manageable.” Catherine gave my arm a squeeze, her brown eyes warm and sincere.

It made me want to confess it all to her. I wondered for only a brief moment if that was part of her charm. Sighing, I dove in.