Authors: Claire Kent
Eventually, she ended up at an apartment building. At an apartment.
One she hadn’t consciously intended to drive to.
She knocked on the door.
It swung open.
Reese stood before her, gasping in surprise when she saw who was at her door.
“Kelly?” Reese breathed, her eyes huge and bewildered.
Kelly gulped and forced out a tight smile. “Hey there. Do you happen to have an extra bed for the night?”
Reese’s face changed, softened visibly. She reached out and put a gentle hand on Kelly’s arm. “Kelly, hon, are you all right?”
Kelly’s face crumpled. Then she shattered. Burst into pitiful tears.
Reese took her in.
Reese immediately started puttering around, looking uncharacteristically helpless as she led Kelly into her apartment, took her sweater and leather bag, and then showed her into the living room, where she gestured toward her couch.
Kelly sank onto the couch gratefully, her back and thighs exhausted and already a little sore from the sex she’d just had with Caleb. She felt drained and totally leveled. And she was still choking on little sobs.
Reese sat down next to her. “What is it?” she asked, her voice softer than usual, and more urgent. “What’s happened? What’s been going on for the last few weeks?”
Shaking her head mutely, Kelly tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for her presence here and for her distress, but she couldn’t think of anything. “I can’t—it’s too complicated. I just don’t have anywhere else to go tonight. I can’t go home,” she said finally.
Reese studied her intently, scanning her friend from her messy hair to her elegantly shoed feet. After a tense moment, she asked, “Do I need to take you to the emergency room?”
Kelly just blinked at her, had no idea why she was asking that.
“It looks like you’ve—I mean, you’re starting to bruise here.” Reese pointed at the skin just over Kelly’s neckline, where Caleb had bitten hard enough to mark. “And your clothes”—Reese swallowed hard and seemed to force herself to conclude—“Kelly, if you’ve been raped—”
“I haven’t,” Kelly interrupted hurriedly. “I haven’t. I promise.”
After another searching look, Reese seemed to believe her, because her body relaxed a little.
Kelly felt a flood of bitterness well up in her chest, all directed inward. “I did just have sex, yes. That much must be obvious. But it was consensual.” She closed her eyes and wished she didn’t hate herself quite so much. “My choice. My choice.” Her voice faded off a little. “Mine.”
Reese’s brow furrowed, and her face twisted with sympathy. “Can’t you tell me?”
“No. I don’t think I can. I’m sorry. I know it’s horrible for me to show up here and not tell you anything—”
Reese brushed her apology away. “You don’t have to tell me anything tonight if you don’t feel up to it. I’m so glad you came here.” Reese’s eyes softened a little as they focused on Kelly. “I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been so worried. You seemed to just disappear.”
Guilt slammed into Kelly, on top of all her other tumultuous emotions. She felt like she would choke—there was just too much she was feeling and experiencing. It was too intense. Too chaotic. And how was one person supposed to deal with all of it?
She needed a break, a respite, a breath of air to recover herself.
Reese seemed to recognize this much, because she stood up. “It’s late. I’ll let you sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.” Glancing around her small apartment, she added, “We could share the bed if you—”
Kelly shook her head, dreading the idea of being that close to someone—anyone—tonight. “The couch will be great. I don’t need special treatment.”
Reese must have read finality in her voice. She didn’t argue. She just showed Kelly the bathroom and brought in some bedding for the couch. After she’d gotten things arranged, she paused, obviously on her way back to her own bedroom. “If you need anything—”
The simple kindness was almost too much for Kelly. She wanted to flee. Run away from it. It was making her chest ache so much. “I’ll let you know,” she forced out of her painfully dry throat. “I might take a shower, but I’ll try not to make too much noise.”
“Make as much noise as you want. And wake me up for whatever reason.” Reese started to leave, but then she turned back and reached out to pull Kelly into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Tears burned in Kelly’s eyes, but they weren’t as painful as the excruciating pressure in her chest. She forced herself not to pull away from the hug—not wanting to hurt Reese’s feelings.
But it was so hard. So hard to be hugged this way, when physical touch had left her with so few defenses.
Reese went into her bedroom at last, and Kelly was relieved when the door shut so she could have a little space. She took her overnight bag and went into the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as she could stand. She took off her wrinkled clothes, and stepped under the spray.
She let the water wash over her, and tried to imagine it cleansing her of everything impure that had ever touched her. She wished she could imagine all of her pain and bitterness and rage spilling down the drain with the water.
Wished her twisted heart—one that only knew how to betray—could melt away in the heat.
She couldn’t even imagine that much.
She cried a little more in the shower, although her sobs weren’t desperate or agonized, and she felt strange when she started to pull herself together. She had no idea what to do next.
What she ended up doing was curling up under the blankets and shaking helplessly in the fetal position for several minutes.
But she was more exhausted than she could ever remember being, and sometimes even trauma can’t keep you awake.
She eventually fell into sleep and to her surprise actually slept straight through nearly the whole night. She woke up only once at about four in the morning, and for a moment she panicked, not able to remember where she was.
But then, as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she started to recognize Reese’s apartment. She remembered everything that had happened, and knew Reese was sleeping in the bedroom. In her groggy state, Kelly experienced a strange sense of security.
As if, for this one night, she was safe. Protected. No one could touch her.
So, she drifted back into sleep and didn’t wake up until Reese gently shook her shoulder. “Kelly,” Reese was saying softly as Kelly finally managed to open her eyes. “Kelly.”
“Huh?” Kelly grunted, stretching out on the sofa and trying to orient herself.
“I have to go to work,” Reese explained. “I made coffee. Just make yourself at home.”
“Okay,” Kelly agreed automatically, her body aching—from fatigue, from stress—as she tried to prop herself up into a sitting position. “Thanks.”
Reese gave her a sharp look. “You’ll be here when I get back?”
Kelly had no idea if she would be here or not. “Yeah. I think so.”
Pressing her lips together, Reese insisted, “Promise me.”
Caleb had once said the exact same thing, in the exact same tone. It felt like ages—endless, aching years—ago.
“I don’t think I can promise you, Reese, but I think I will be here.” She let out a long breath. “I really don’t have anywhere else to go.”
After Reese left, Kelly spent the whole morning in her pajamas, making herself some breakfast and watching some TV. Doing her best not to think about Caleb.
She had hurt him. Really bad. She knew it, even though he had hardened into ice as she was leaving him. She’d wounded a part of him that had only just started opening up.
He would be wounded so much more, so much deeper, if he ever found out the truth—why she’d ever been with him in the first place.
He might deserve it. He probably did. But she just didn’t know anymore.
Maybe it was better this way. Just end it now. Never talk to him again. Never pursue the lingering questions. Never let her heart get twisted more painfully than it already was.
She would never have justice. She would never have answers. She still would have broken herself. But nothing else would have changed. No one else would be hurt.
Maybe it was the right thing to do, or maybe it was the worst thing. She was no longer capable of judging rights and wrongs.
Every option left to her felt wrong.
“Come on, Kelly,” Reese said impatiently. “I’ve been kind and considerate all day, but I want to know what the hell is going on. Why the fuck won’t you tell me anything? I’m going crazy.”
Kelly gave her friend a faint smile. “I know. But it’s just not something I can talk about.”
Reese scowled at her. “That’s stupid. You could talk about it if you wanted to. I’ve been wondering for weeks what was happening to you. You barely replied to any of my texts and calls, and now you show up and won’t tell me anything.”
“I know,” Kelly acknowledged. “It’s not fair. I’m a selfish ass. I admit it.”
“So tell me,” Reese demanded.
They were sitting on the couch, watching a crime drama on TV, and Reese had burst out with her question in the middle of a commercial. Kelly could hardly blame her.
She sighed. “You know I had some bad stuff happen when I was a kid.”
“Yeah, sure. Your dad died and your mom left. I know how hard it was.”
“Well, there were some things left unresolved, and a few weeks ago my mom reappeared out of the blue, wanting me to resolve them.”
Reese clearly had no idea what she was talking about, but she listened quietly.
Kelly continued, “So I had to do some things that are pretty awful in order to take care of it. And there was a man involved, and it all got twisted.” When she saw her friend’s face, she added, “I know none of it makes sense, but this is as much as I can tell you. Please don’t ask for more details.”
“This man,” Reese said, after a minute of visibly suppressing her questions. “Do you love him or hate him?”
“Both, I think.”
“And how does he feel about you? Does he love you or hate you?”
“Maybe both.”
“You’ve left him now?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you resolve the thing from your past?”
Kelly shook her head. “Nothing is resolved. But the only way to resolve it is to go back to him, and that just feels—wrong in every way.”
Reese was silent for a long time. A really long time. Until finally she said, “Well, I don’t know. I guess you need to figure out what’s worse for you. Leaving all of it unresolved and living with the mess as it is. Or going through with it—even if it means the whole mess explodes all over you—because there might be a chance for some of the mess to finally clear.”
As was often the case, Reese had gotten it exactly right.
The next morning, Kelly had breakfast with Jack Martin at a dingy diner near his office that he evidently loved.
She did her best to explain to him what had happened.
He listened without talking much, perhaps because he was busy packing away a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. But when she finished her slightly censored rehearsal of events, he leaned back in his booth and thought in silence for a minute.
Finally, he said, “Well, I guess you shouldn’t have fallen for him.”
She stiffened dramatically in indignation. She hadn’t said anything about falling for Caleb, but Jack wasn’t an idiot. He’d obviously read between the lines. “Would you like me reach over the table and smack you?”
Jack chuckled and took a gulp of coffee. “Not really. I’m an old-fashioned guy, and that kind of thing doesn’t turn me on.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to maintain her annoyance with him. It was harder than it should have been. “I didn’t meet with you to hear you state the obvious—especially when you’re being obnoxious about it.”
“Yeah. I know. But I don’t really know what else to tell you. I’m still working on digging things up on him, but I can’t guarantee to get an answer to you about whether he’s guilty or not.”
“It’s hard for me to know what to do, since I don’t have the answer to that question.”
“I guess. But it seems to me that your choices are the same either way. Marshall is a bad guy, whether he’s done this particular thing wrong or not. Are you really picturing a happy future with him if he happens to be cleared on this?”
She shook her head. “I’m not picturing any sort of happy future. I just want some sort of—resolution. I don’t know how I can go on without it. What am I supposed to do if I just drop it now?”
Jack put his coffee cup down and leaned forward. His voice was uncharacteristically earnest as he said, “You live your life. You do your job. You paint all the cutesy pet portraits you can. You hang out with your friends. You try to do good wherever you’re able to. You find some nice guy—maybe a stunningly handsome guy in the security business—to go out with. He wouldn’t be a slouch in the sack, you know.” His eyes gleamed briefly with dry humor before he concluded, “You settle back into real life. Why would that be so impossible? I know you’ve been wounded in all this, but don’t you think it would be better for you to just let the wound heal?”
She let out a shaky breath, suddenly wanting the future he’d painted so much she could taste it. A peaceful existence. A job she enjoyed. A nice, normal guy like Jack. But it was as out of her grasp as it had always been—even when the name Caleb Marshall wasn’t yet a blip on her radar.
She’d never believed that kind of life was possible. She was still trapped in the woods, next to the bleeding body of her father.
And she understood something then, sitting across from Jack in an old diner on a sunny morning in May. And she knew it even more deeply as she said the words out loud. “But that only works if the wound is a clean one. And mine isn’t. It’s mangled and infected and covered by nothing by scar tissue. Time doesn’t fix that.”
She saw this truth register on his rugged face as he let out a long exhale. “Yeah. I guess that might be right.”
“Maybe the wound has to be ripped back open, if I ever want it to heal clean.”
After breakfast, she went back to her apartment to pick up her stuff. She still wasn’t ready to move back in there. For one, Caleb would be able to find her, and she wasn’t ready to face him yet. She didn’t know if he would come looking for her eventually, but he might.
For another, the familiar rooms and all of her possessions seemed to taunt her with their superficiality—as if all of the years between her father’s death and Caleb were just a pretense of existence.
Maybe they were.
Either way, she needed to get some more clothes if she was going to keep staying with Reese, so she stopped by quickly on her way back from breakfast.
When she walked into her living area, she saw her mother sitting on her sofa.
Kelly pulled to a stop, her purse slipping slowly off her arm. “What are you doing here?”