Page 39 of Someday

It’s like I’ve slapped him, the way he takes a step back, like I’ve dealt him a physical blow.

In the next second, he’s moving closer, and he lifts his hand toward my shoulder and then he wraps his arms around me and hugs me. It’s the last thing I expected him to do, and I had no idea how good it would feel to have him hold me like this again.

“Sofie,” he rasps. “I-I’m so sorry. I…how long—when—”

I pull back reluctantly and grab a tissue from the desk, blowing my nose. The need to pace myself is conflicting with the need to tell him everything, and I meant it when I said I don’t know where to begin.

I grab a hair tie and pull my hair back, leaving it in a messy bun.

“Do you mind if we go sit outside? The swing is still out there.”

He nods and we walk outside and around to where the swing sits overlooking the pasture. Fireworks are brightening up the sky and I remember how I kept seeing mini firework displays as I drove through the night eight years ago.

We sit down and the swing moves forward and back without us making any effort, and I feel Theo’s eyes on me.

“Do you remember the time at school when I yelped when you bumped my hip with yours and you wanted to know why I almost started crying? I told you I’d bumped into a wall at home, and you insisted that I show you.”

“In second or third grade? Yeah, you had a nasty bruise,” he says, nodding, and then his eyes widen, his lips parting, and I see his world fall apart.

“Or the time we went swimming in the lake and I started out in my shirt and shorts and then my shirt snagged on a branch, and I had to take my shirt off…”

“You said you’d fallen out of bed,” he whispers. “And I believed you were just really clumsy.”

“The black eye at junior prom…”

“That—but…I saw you fall off your bike…”

“I saw you coming and fell off my bike on purpose, so you’d think it had just happened.”

He gasps and his face crumbles as he whispers my name. I take his hands and turn toward him as he faces me at the same time.

“All those years?” he asks, his voice breaking. “You went through that all those years, alone? You musthateme. How could I not have seen what was going on all that time?”

“I could never hate you,” I tell him. “You and your family were the only place I didn’t feel alone.”

He clutches his stomach and leans over, trying to catch his breath.

“The time I snuck into your bedroom and saw your back before you could cover up…you said you’d fallen off that wild horse your dad had for a while...that wasn’t true, was it?”

I shake my head.

He clamps his fingers over his eyes and squeezes and sniffles, his eyes glistening with tears in the moonlight when he drops his hand.

“Was he—you don’t have to tell me—”

“He wasn’t sexually abusive,” I cut in. “Just really liked to use me as his punching bag.”

He puts his head in his hands and when he looks up, he swallows hard and wipes his face.

“Sofie, I don’t even know what to say. I’m so…I’m sorry and heartbroken that you went through that alone…and I wish we could go back and redo everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. From as early as I can remember, my parents were teaching me to hide the truth. Cover for them…”

“Your mom—?”

“He hit her too, and she just kept giving him more excuses. He was sorry. He wouldn’t do it again. He provided for us. He had too much stress. His reputation would be ruined. No one would believe either one of us if we told because he was so charismatic, everyone loved him. It wouldn’t be right for her to leave him, divorce is wrong. A sin. I bought all of it.” I take a shaky breath.

I reach over and take his hand and he grips it so hard, I’m able to keep going.

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