You're Like Coming Home

I realized with Valentine’s Day approaching that Aaron and I still hadn’t kissed.  We had been close a couple of times.  But when everything happened during the incident, I think Aaron decided to give me the space I needed.  I know that Valentine’s Day is super commercial, but the deep-down hidden romantic part of me loved it.  I pretended I didn’t.  But I did. 

Because of the trauma that had happened to me, Dean (my therapist) had agreed to start out seeing me twice a week.  I had my second session yesterday, which we took to start diving into my history with Luke.   

Also, after my first session last week, Dean had decided to have me temporarily go on Xanax to help with the anxiety I was feeling constantly, and Pristiq to help alleviate the mild situational depression.  So he reached out to a psychiatrist he partners with.  I had been taking those for almost a week and it was amazing the relief I felt.  He had been very upfront that he was using them as an initial aide, but had no intention of keeping me on them long term.  I wasn’t scared to shower when no one was home, and I didn’t feel like staying in bed every moment of every day anymore.

So anyway, because I was feeling slightly more alive, I decided to do something special for Aaron for Valentine’s Day.  I wasn’t sure what exactly, yet, and I also was definitely not ready for anything sexual.  I knew it would take a lot of trust and build up to get there.  But Aaron was having the patience of a saint. 

After my therapy session last night, I went to my parents’ house for dinner.  It was the first time I’d been back there since Christmas break.  It was good to be back with my parents.  They kept the conversation light, and asking me more about Aaron.  I guess since I wasn’t acting like the world was crushing me into a pile of mush, they finally felt like they were to ask me more “normal” questions.  I could feel myself blushing when talking about him. 

As we were finishing eating, the doorbell rang.  My parents both looked at each other, confused.  My dad got up and went to answer it.  “You guys expecting someone?” I asked, after my dad had left the room.

“Nope.  It’s Monday night, we usually just stay to ourselves during the week because of work.  And if it was Ben or Gloria, I’m sure they would’ve called first.”

I could hear voices talking, but couldn’t hear what was being said or clearly enough to tell who it was.  My dad came walking back into the dining room alone.  “Aleah, baby, it’s for you.”

I frowned, even more confused.  “Okay... who is it?”

“Just go,” my dad said, nodding his head towards the front of the house.

I walked into the foyer of the house and stopped in my tracks. 

Every emotion known to man flooded my senses.  Tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked a few times, to un-blur the image of Zach standing there.

His hands were in his pockets, his skin sun-kissed golden.  His hair also lightened.  He was wearing a button down, dark jeans, and loafers.  He looked radiant, and I could feel my heart swell.

He wasted no time striding over to me, and wrapping me into his arms, pressing his lips into my hair on top of my head.  My face was pressed into his shirt, and I started crying softly, his smell being so familiar and reminding me of home.  Not the place.

We stood likes that for minutes, him holding me tightly, letting me cry.  When I finally stopped and hiccupped, he held me out at arm’s length.  “Aleah,” he said gently.

I couldn’t even open my mouth, scared that I would start crying again.  He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door, grabbing a blanket out of the front closet.  I had on sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  The temperature was oddly warm for February, being in the low 50’s during the day.  It was cooled down a bit, but was still around 40. 

Once we were outside I saw he had ridden his family’s four wheeler over.  In any other time and place I would’ve smiled at this.  He knew how much I loved riding on the back of the four wheeler with him, growing up.  He got on and climbed on behind him.  I buried my face in his back to block the wind.  And without looking, I knew the familiarity of the path, and that we were winding our way back through the woods to our spot.

When we got there, we silently went into the cabin, and sat next to each other, our sides touching and my legs curled underneath of me.  He wrapped the large quilt around us and put his arm around me, pulling my body against his.

I closed my eyes, comfortable.  I started drifting off when I heard Zach start talking.  “Aleah, I’m so sorry.  I am so incredibly sorry.”

“For what?”  I sleepily asked.

“For not being here sooner.  I didn’t come home for break, and my parents didn’t tell me what happened until just a week ago.  I don’t think they wanted me to know.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Zach.”

“Yes, I do.  If I hadn’t gone back to Arizona this school year and transferred here like I wanted to, this would have never happened.  I could’ve been here for you and protected...”

I interrupted and stopped him by placing my finger on his lips.  “No, Zach.  Stop.  You needed to be there.  You needed to finish school there so it showed consistency and stability for your med school applications.”

“But if something more would’ve happened to you... getting into the best medical school on the planet wouldn’t have been worth that.” 

I sighed.  I knew I wasn’t changing his mind.  He pulled me even more into him. 

I felt so safe and warm.  I started to fall asleep, once again. 

But also once again, I was woken up by Zach.  But this time, his other hand was on my chin, tilting my head up towards his, and his slightly parted lips met mine.

Relief

“So, Aleah, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, what you do for fun, if you’re working, anything that you think is interesting about yourself.”

I was sitting in a therapist’s office.  Along with the mass amounts of some of my favorite snack foods Aaron had brought over for our “Superbowl Party” to cajole me to eat, he had brought the name and number of a therapist that he had heard good things about who worked with victims of some type of sexual battery and/or rape.

When I had cried all my tears and finished snotting all over Aaron’s chest, he had gently broached the subject of therapy.  Of course, hindsight was that he brought it up while making it my idea.  “Aleah, what do you think we can do in order to help you start moving forward?”

“I don’t know.  I feel really helpless and just constantly vulnerable and on the verge of a meltdown.”

“Have you told anyone that?”

“Yeah, you.  Just now.”

He raised an eyebrow at my natural defense of sarcasm, but plowed on with the conversation.  “I mean, anyone else.”

I shook my head, nervously.  I didn’t like admitting my weaknesses. 

“Do you think if you kept talking a little, it might help?”

I shrugged my shoulders, but thought about what he said.  Although I didn’t like admitting how I was feeling to him, I felt relief in opening up to him.  I felt like maybe he could partially understand.  He waited for me, appearing to sense that I was thinking.  “Maybe.”

“If you’re stressed about something, like school work, what do you do to help alleviate it?”

I thought back to when life was normal.  “I procrastinated.  Or played games on my phone.”

“Okay, what about something a little more serious and emotional.  Like, do you have any conflict about seeing Chase and me?”

I squinted my eyes, confused.  Then it clicked, I had never told him I wasn’t seeing Chase any longer.  I was planning on telling him over Christmas break, but then...

“I did.  And when I did, I talked with my friends.”

I saw the confusion flash across his face, but he proceeded on.  “Were they able to give you good advice, or walk you through it?”

“Yeah.  They did.  It helped me process more than anything, I think...” and then I realized what he was getting at.

I think he saw the realization in my expression, because he didn’t say anything else about it.  He just took the card out of his wallet and handed it to me.  I nodded and set it on the coffee table, knowing I would call, even though I didn’t want to.

He then brought out the pizza rolls, taquitos, wings, and black olives.  And Coca Cola.  How he knew I love all of those things as guilty pleasure foods, I’ll never know, but it made me feel even more drawn to him.

We finished watching the game, and I even smiled a few times.  It felt... good.

I refocused on my therapist, Dean, and started to tell him about myself, building rapport.  He was a soft spoken, gentle soul of an older man.  If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right, and honestly. 

I wanted to get better.

Superbowl Party

Laying in bed on Sunday, I heard a knock on my bedroom door.  “Yeah?” I called out dryly. 

My door slowly cracked open, and Sarah poked her head in.  “Hey, girl,” she said softly.  Both she and Maddie had been walking on eggshells around me.  I didn’t blame them.  All I did was lay in bed when I wasn’t at practice or class- when I went to class, anyway.

She walked over and sat down on the edge of my bed.  I didn’t even know what time it was.  “Maddie and I are going to a Superbowl Party over at Gavin’s.  I had mentioned it a few days ago, but you never responded.  We’re going to be leaving in a couple hours.  Coming?”

I just shook my head no.  Sarah sighed loudly.  “Aleah, I love you to pieces, but this isn’t healthy.  I know you’ll need time to heal...” She paused and was staring off into space, knowing her probably searching for words.  “But you’re letting him win.  You’re letting him alter everything about you and he’s not even around.”

Luke was still in jail.  Apparently no one could (or would) bail him out.  Brad (Detective Stratton) had been in pretty consistent contact with me, checking on me.  Especially after I told Aaron to stop seeing me.  Aaron must have told him and Brad picked up his slack.  Brad was keeping me in the loop, too, letting me know he had sent this over to the prosecutor.  Since Luke was caught in the act, this was a pretty cut and dry case, but he assumed Luke would plead not guilty and this would go to trial, using the fact that we had dated and this was just a hook-up after the fact as his defense.

“I’m just tired,” I lamely stated.

“Aleah,” Sarah snapped.  “Seriously.  You spend most of your hours in bed.  There is no way in hell you are tired.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, if you change your mind, let us know before we go.”

When the door clicked shut behind her, my body released the tense muscles, defeated.  I knew she was right, but I just couldn’t seem to force myself to move.  Or really do much of anything.  Truth be told, I was terrified.  I was scared to go out in the world.  Brad had promised me that he would let me know if and when Luke was bailed out, the moment it happened. 

Hours passed, and I finally heard Maddie and Sarah leave.  They tried convincing me one more time to go, but I had refused.  I hadn’t eaten since Friday night when my mom had come over and basically force-fed me.  My stomach was growling and cramping in anger.  I decided to go look in the kitchen to see if there were some crackers or something I could nibble on.

I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen and pulled open a cupboard and stared blankly.  There were crackers and chips and other things.  Nothing sounded good, but I finally settled on some Goldfish.  I grabbed the bag and started heading towards the stairs to go back to my room.  I had just placed my foot on the first step when the doorbell rang.  I froze.

My heart leapt into my throat, and was trying to beat its way out.  I opened my mouth to ask who it was, but I couldn’t speak.  My breathing was shallow and quick.

A quiet, still voice in the back of my mind told me to be strong.

I focused on my breathing again, making it slow down.  I knew it wasn’t my parents, because they had a key and would’ve just let themselves in.  Everyone else I knew was out at Superbowl parties, I was sure.

I took a few steps towards the door, cursing myself for leaving my phone in my room.  I opened the closet next to the front door and grabbed the metal baseball bat I made sure was there now.  I gripped it tightly, to the point that my knuckles were white.

I placed my hand on the doorknob, and searched for my voice.  “Who is it?” I croaked.  I also realized, too late, I could’ve looked through one of the front windows or the peephole, but part of me didn’t want anyone to actually see me before I knew my plan of attack.

“Aleah, it’s Aaron,” rang his familiar voice.

I relaxed and sighed, not realizing how tightly all my muscles were tensed, once again.  My heart was still beating quickly, but for a different reason.

I opened the door, and Aaron appraised me.  I grimmaced, knowing I looked, and probably smelled, not good.  He was carrying a large bag.  “What are you doing here?”  My voice sounded cold.  Colder than the below freezing temperatures.

He ignored my tone and pushed past me.  “I’m here for the party,” he said nonchalantly. 

I stared at the back of his head as he made his way towards the kitchen.  “What party?”

He didn’t respond.  I shut and locked the door and followed the sounds of drawers opening and closing in the kitchen.

“What party?” I asked again, this time out of confusion.

“The Superbowl party,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if this was something I should have known about.

“If you’re referring to the party that Maddie and Sarah were going to, they left, and it isn’t here.  Although, honestly, it’s a little weird they’d invite you.  No offense.”

At that, he turned to look at me, a half-smile playing on his lips.  He walked over to me and placed his hands on each of my shoulders.  “Go shower.”

I frowned at him, though deep down I was embarrassed that he knew I hadn’t.  Truthfully, I didn’t shower unless someone was at home.  I wanted to be alert and not vulnerable.  I obediently turned and made my way to my bathroom.

After showering, and in clean sweats and a tshirt, I went back downstairs, where I heard the tv tuned in to the game.  It must have already started.  But I didn’t hear any voices.  I peeked into the kitchen and didn’t see anyone.  I went to the living room and saw Aaron, in there by himself, sitting on the couch leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.  I stood there watching him momentarily, as he conversed with the tv about a play that he didn’t agree with.  I felt a smile tickling my lips.  It felt foreign.

I walked around the couch and sat down next to him, tucking my feet underneath me. 

“Feel better?”

I shrugged.  “I thought I told you that we shouldn’t see each other.”  I said it as a statement on purpose.

He muted the tv and turned his body towards me.  “You did.”

I looked at him, bewildered.  “That’s all you’re going to say?”

He scooted closer to me, and placed his hand on my cheek.  I leaned my face into it, before I realized what I was doing, my eyes closed.  “Aleah,” I heard his voice soft.  I didn’t open my eyes, but he continued.  “You didn’t mean that.  We both know it.  I already told you that I’m not going anywhere.  I pursued, and am pursuing, you, because I like you a lot and I really care for you.  You’re hurting, and I know this.  But I’m here for you, and we will help you overcome this and heal together.  And if you are weak, and feel like you’re falling, I’m right here beside you and I promise I will catch you.  I feel very protective of you, and to the best of my ability, I won’t allow anyone to ever hurt you.”

For the first time in a month and a half, a tear worked its way through my closed eyelids, and fell down my cheek, resting on Aaron’s hand.  He brushed his thumb against my cheek, wiping it away.  But just as quickly another one fell.  And then another, until I was quietly sobbing.  Aaron pulled me against him, and I laid my head on his chest, crying, while he rubbed my back, letting me.  He didn’t say anything.  He didn’t need to.  He just held me.  He was giving me everything I that I had needed.