Page 91 of So Steady

“Don’t be sorry. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t...” Her panic mixed with molten embarrassment and acid tears burned the backs of her eyes.

“You can. Say it.”

And maybe it was the stress of the day, but she was suddenly, furiously sick of carrying the secret she’d kept locked inside her for nine years. “I had chlamydia when I was nineteen. My high school boyfriend, Greyson, gave it to me.”

The silence burned like dry ice.

“He told me he was safe. He never got tested, though. I started feeling weird down there and I went to the doctors and they told me it wasthat. Then when I got upset, she was so, so mean to me. I can’t believe how mean she was, and for no reason. I was just this terrified kid who’d only slept with two people.”

“Nikki…”

“Please don’t? I know this has nothing to do with right now, but sometimes I get stressed and then I think about it and I just…break a little.”

A big hand smoothed over her hair. “Nikki, it’s okay. STD’s happen, they’re not the end of the world.”

Shame washed over her in a hot wave. “It shouldn’t have happened! It wasdisgusting. And the way the doctor looked at me, like I was just the dirtiest girl.”

“You’re not dirty.” He hesitated. “In that way. You can be dirty in the good ways.”

She laughed, then felt utterly ridiculous. “I’m sorry about freaking out. Like we don’t have enough to deal with.”

“It’s okay.” He rubbed a thumb over her cheek. “Is this because of what we did together?”

“Probably. I shouldn’t have told you to do it without a condom. I’m never that reckless. I never do anything wrong.”

A soft laugh. “Maybe that’s part of the problem. You never let yourself have any fun and then it all builds up and you binge.”

“Maybe,” she sniffed. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“Stop saying sorry. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. And I promise, to the best of my knowledge, I’m clean. I always use condoms.”

It should have been reassuring, but it just reminded her of all the other lovers he’d had, women who weren’t so childishly paranoid about sex. She yawned, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep forever.

“Have you ever talked to anyone about this, Nikki? Your dad? Your sisters?”

She shook her head.

“It must have eaten you alive.”

It had. She’d stayed up late for weeks, months, crying and making promises. A month later, a different, nicer doctor said she was clean, but the damage had been done. She’d had nightmares, felt phantom itches, froze with terror whenever Greyson went down on her. And there was Sam and Tabby, dating and sleeping with strangers and giggling about sex like it didn’t have terrifying consequences. Like it was justfun.

“I was so lonely,” she told Noah. “And I knew Sam and Tabby would have supported me, but I was just so mad at them for not getting something when I did. When they slept with a million more people than me. I couldn’t say anything.”

“Is that why you went to Adelaide?”

She went to say ‘no’, but the word caught in her throat. She remembered what she’d said to Noah, a million years ago this morning,‘I’ve never run away from home before.’She snorted.

“What?”

“Just thinking about what a hypocrite I am.” She swiped a wrist across her eyes. “We should get going. Get back to Melbourne and sort everything out.”

“That can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“I’m fine!” She scrubbed her face with her palms. “Sorry, I think I’ve cried in front of you more than I’ve ever cried in front of anyone.”

“Stop fuckin’ saying sorry.”

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