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He’d raped her.
Hurt her.
Yet I was the one who broke.
I clung to her like a drowning man.
I rocked and sobbed and begged, fucking begged her to fix me. To erase my past, delete my sins, and somehow heal me from everything my father had made me become.
The pressure in my eyes slipped down onto my tongue.
Just like I couldn’t stop the tears, I couldn’t stop the confessions.
“H-He made me lose my virginity at seven years old.” I cringed at the words. I wanted to snatch them back. I hated that more flowed free. “He made me cut them…fuck them…”
The sobs came back.
Fresh tears washed away words and secrets I’d kept hidden even from myself.
What was I doing?
Dumping that shit on her?
I should be the one cradling her.
Letting her cry and heal.
Raising my head, I tried to be better. To be the man I should’ve always been.
But the moment our eyes locked, I forgot everything.
A quaking cavernous silence filled me; I sucked in my first breath in so long.
No more noises or sorrow…just aching quietness after the storm. A blanketing lull that felt both peaceful and terrifying.
Shifting on my lap, she draped her legs on either side of my hips.
Her towel rode up, exposing her.
The hard-on that wouldn’t fade for hours thanks to that awful fucking pill speared between us, and I hated it. Hated that part of myself. Hated how much pain it’d caused me and all those I’d abused.
Sickness rose again, but Ily kept me stable. The dizziness couldn’t find me. The horrors blocked out thanks to her touch.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Let it out.”
With a groan, I clung to her.
I couldn’t.
I had no right.
But the despair inside me bled out anyway. “I remember. All of it. I know now why my mother absolutely despised me. She knew. She knew what he made me do. What I did to those women. And…and I don’t think I can live with what I’ve done. With what I am.”
She hugged me back, so kind, so wonderfully, horribly kind. She didn’t speak. Didn’t offer absolution. She just held me in my pain.
Tears welled all over again.
For my brother.
