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I was drugged. The doctor’s words don’t seem to match the motion of her lips as she stands in front of me, explaining the lingering traces of sedatives in my bloodstream. There were, thankfully, no signs of sexual assault but I have to wait on the result of some blood tests just in case.
It’s not real. Her words don’t feel real, so I watch her in a daze as she presses a pamphlet about counseling into my hands and leaves the room. Finn takes the space she left, a frown gracing his face.
“Emma?”
“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “We’re always careful. We cover our drinks, and someone always watches it when the other has to leave. And we only accept drinks from other people if we get to watch the bartender make it. I don’t understand.”
Finn’s hand lands cautiously on my shoulder. He’s wary of touching me, I can tell, but his comfort is something I ache for so I immediately clutch at his wrist. It’s the permission he’s been waiting for. He sits beside me on the bed and pulls me into a tight, crushing hug. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, drowning in the comforting scent of his warm bookish smell.
“However it happened, and whatever it was, it was not your fault. Do you understand?”
I nod against his chest, my cheek sliding against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Maybe I was drugged at the club and one of my friends helped me home. That’s…that’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“It’s possible,” Finn replies, his chin resting atop my head. “I won’t tell you how to feel, or what your truth is but the doctor may have been right. This shadow in your memory could just be a lingering dream and you undressed yourself.”
“Makes sense,” I murmur, nuzzling into his chest. “It’s the only thing that really makes sense because my door was locked so…”
“Although, I do agree with her that you should report this to the police.”
I lift my head and pull back from him. “Report what? That I got drunk but somehow made it back home safe and sound and woke up tucked in my bed?”
Finn’s eyes narrow slightly. “Hey. At the very least, someone slipped you something at the club. At worst, someone took you home and was inside your apartment. Whatever the truth is of what happened last night, calling the police and alerting them might help.”
“Because they were so helpful when my car was fucked up,” I snap at him, then catch myself. The anxious bubble in my chest is building, along with a sense of stupidity no matter how often I’ve been told that it wasn’t my fault.
“Sorry. I’m just a little freaked out.”
“Hush,” Finn says softly, lifting one hand to cup the back of my head. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s not easy news to learn you’ve been drugged. I do think you should go to the police but it’s your choice, and I’m here to support you.” Finn leans up and presses a light kiss to my temple.
“Really? You’re not going to march me down there and make me file a report?”
“What?” Finn’s brow lifts sharply. “Of course not. Emma…whatever happened, the next steps are yours. Yes, I would like you to report it, but it’s your choice, and I’m here for you. I don’t like it, but it’s your choice.”
“But you do like me,” I point out with a small smile, seeking any kind of distraction.
Finn rolls his eyes and laughs dryly. “Yes, I do.”
When we get back to my apartment, Finn offers to stay with me, but I send him away, insisting that he’s already done more than enough to help me. Finn makes me promise to text him the moment I wake up so he knows I’m okay, and with a deep, lingering kiss, he leaves.
My apartment is suddenly cold without him. Guilt swirls in my chest, and the sensation of idiocy doesn’t leave me, not even after a long shower hot enough to strip off several layers of skin. I’ve been on such a high from the attention of all those gorgeous men, and having a good time with my friends that I hadn’t been focused on staying safe.
As I tidy up the tea and the water and head for bed, my mind runs between excuses and fear. Maybe it was just a chance encounter, and I made it home myself. Maybe the strange feeling of someone in my room was just my own fantasies mingling with my drunken mind.
Or maybe it’s nothing at all, and I just worried Finn for no reason. Maybe I just took some pills without remembering to help me sleep.
I text the group chat and apologize, telling Ana and Meghan that I’m okay and will explain everything in person. Then I roll over and hug my pillow to my chest.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. My mind races, trying to fill in the gaps in my memory. The sky turns a soft pink by the time my eyelids grow heavy and sleep finally pulls me under.
I’m woken abruptly the next morning by a text from my mother reminding me sharply that next Friday is my father’s birthday.
That arrived far too fast.
13
EMMA
“You sure you don’t want a glass?” Ana wiggles the wine bottle in my direction, then waggles her eyebrows to try and make it more enticing.
