Page 45 of Say It Slowly

He settles back down next to me on the sand, then pulls his legs up, his arms clasped around them, like he’s bracing himself for what I’m going to say next.

I blow out a breath, and try to steady my racing heart. “Fuck this is hard. Okay, um, last year I was kind of dating this guy…” My stomach tightens, and I suddenly feel like I need to be sick. I swallow past the bile rising in my throat. “And everything was cool at first. But…um…” I can feel Roman’s eyesburninginto the side of my face, and I struggle to get the words out. “...a few weeks into it, I realized our relationship wasn’t working, so I broke it off…”

Shit, this is where it gets tough, so I decide I’m just going to rush through it and give Roman the abbreviated version.

“And, um, he didn’t like that. He made threats, and started stalking me. The police wouldn’t do anything about it, of course, because he hadn’t actually hurt me or anything. Eventually, there was an incident, though, and he was arrested.”

It was a horror-filled five months. The crazed look in his eyes when I told him to leave me alone will stay with me for the rest of my life. It was terrifying, and something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

There are a few seconds of agonizing silence before Roman finally breaks it. “An incident,” he repeats, his voice completely devoid of emotion. Not curiosity. Not disbelief. Nothing. Completely deadpan, and I’m not quite sure what to make of that.

So much for the abridged version, I guess.

“I came in from a night out. It was the first time I’d gone out in months, but I felt safe, because I was with people. Bree and my other friends even walked me to my door. When I came in, grandma was asleep, so I just went straight to my room. I noticed my window was open a crack—the window casing is old and warped, so it takes a lot of force to close the window completely. I thought maybe my grandmother had opened it, so I closed it, and started getting ready for bed…”

I pull in a heavy breath.

“He was, uh…in my closet. He’d been waiting for me to come home, and, uh…shit got crazy.”

I spare a glance at Roman, and he’s watching me intently. I can’t tell what he’s feeling though. Pity? Disgust? Nothing at all? God, I just want to run into the ocean, and remove myself entirely from this conversation.

“What happened, Lux?” he asks. “What did he do?”

My thoughts are cast back to that night, and my lungs immediately constrict. Justrememberingwhat happenedmakes me feel like I can’t breathe. And my heart is beating so fast, I start to feel dizzy.

In a panic, I rise up onto my feet, and start walking. I just need to feel like I have that freedom to move, to get away if I need to. I don’t even care if Roman is following me. But he is, I can hear him calling my name as I walk away.

I feel a hand on my elbow as he pulls me to a stop, and forces me to turn and face him. “Lux, please. Tell me what happened.”

“Why?” I ask, tears cold against my cheeks. “Why do you need to know? It doesn’t matter. It happened, and that’s it. Drudging all this up isn’t going to help anything.”

“If you want me to understand–”

I wave my hand, cutting him off. “I don’t. I don’t give a fuck if you understand or not.”

“Fine.” His voice is soft, but still firm. “Iwantto understand. Help me understand, Lux.”

We’re standing in the middle of the beach now, wind whipping around us, catching in my hair. It’s cold, but I barely feel it. I barely feel anything. And yet, somehow, I find the same strength I found the night I made the police report.

“I don’t remember everything. Some of it’s a blur,” I admit, pausing to swallow past the thickness in my throat. “He waited until I was undressing for bed. I’m only guessing he was in my closet, because he lunged at me from behind. He immediately restrained me, held a knife to my throat, and threatened to kill me if I didn’t...”

Fuck, bile is rising in my throat. “I must have screamed at that point, because my grandmother came rushing in. When she saw what was happening, she disappeared to find her phone and call the police. But that just…I don’t know, caused him to snap. He held a knife up to my throat, and threatened to kill me unless I admitted I loved him.”

Desperate to end the story, I lift my arms. “So, yeah, I freak out a little when I’m restrained now. Yay. A fun new feature of my personality.” There’s no humor in my voice, just that dry sarcasm I rely on whenever shit gets uncomfortable.

Roman’s eyes narrow at me, but I notice he doesn’t reach out to comfort me, and I’m not sure if I should be thankful for that, or offended. “So what happened? How’d you get away?” he asks evenly.

“I was convinced I was going to die that night. I didn’t see any way around it, so I just…gave up.” A sob escapes my throat when I admit that. It’s probably the most painful part of the whole ordeal—the fact that I’d allowed myself to be defeated so easily. “He beat me, tried to rape me, but I guess my crying was too distracting. He just kept telling me to admit it, admit that I loved him.”

I stand there choking back sobs for a second, before I finally gather myself enough to speak again. I wipe the tears away, and face Roman again. “I was angry at myself for a long time, because, ultimately, I’m the one who invited him into my life. It took a lot of therapy, but I came to ExU to start over.”

“What happened to the guy?”

I shrug one shoulder. “The police showed up, and after a few hours, I talked him into surrendering. I told him we’d have a shot at being together again if he turned himself in and owned up to what he’d done. He took the bait,thank God, and he’s in jail now, awaiting sentencing.”

Roman nods once, and glances toward the ocean. When he looks back at me, his expression is completely unreadable. “I need to get going, or I’m going to be late for class.”

A lightning bolt of pain strikes me right in the chest. I just poured my heart out to him, and dug up the darkest moment of my life to satisfy his curiosity, buthe has class?

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