Preservation (21 page)

***

Warmth crowded around my body from head to toe, my legs stretching outward to push it away. A heaviness on my chest instinctually made me try to buck the weight off, my stomach and arms thrashing upward and outward, my voice finding its way to my lips. “No! Help, help—”

“You’re safe, Kate,” a strained, familiar voice hovered over me, strong hands clasping my shoulders, soothing fingers rubbing my skin. “You’re at home. Safe.” My eyes opened and I found Ryan. I kicked the thick blanket off of me, instantly relieved when the warmth left my skin. I lay on the couch, Carter and unfamiliar voices near the front door. A woman appeared next to me, gently reaching for my hand.

“Kate, I’m Kelly, your nurse. I treated you earlier, but you were a bit groggy. It’s Saturday morning and you slept through the night. Are you feeling okay? May I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. Am I—was I—”

“You were not. Ryan and your friend here found you before the assault took place. You have good men looking out for you. You were given a full rape screening and urine test and you have not suffered any physical trauma. It seems your attackers administered a form of GHB, most likely through food or drink, and it should work its way out of your system within 24 to 48 hours. You can expect a lot of fatigue over the next day or two, and possibly nausea.”

“I filed a report with the police,” Ryan spoke up, sitting next to me on the end of the couch. “They were arrested, and the decision to pursue any charges is entirely up to you.”

“Yes,” Kelly spoke up, her voice soft and soothing, like Ryan’s fingers. “Because of the nature of the drug, they can potentially face up to two years in prison, maybe more. There are many factors that will determine the outcome. Whatever you decide, it is understandable and your right. Thankfully, you have two eyewitnesses, both of whom have been interviewed. I’ve filed my health examination notes for record, and if you need anything at all, please just call me at this number.” She handed me a card. “I’m very sorry for what you’ve experienced. I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow. You’re in my thoughts.” Smiling warmly once more, she nodded at Ryan and made her way to the door, bidding farewell to the officers on her way out.

“Would you like to speak to the police later?” Ryan peered down at me, dark circles under his eyes, lids red and swollen.
Oh, what this man must’ve gone through because of me.

“Yes, not right now.”

Ryan exchanged looks with Carter, who was still huddled with the police at the front door. His face was sunken in, too, pale and gaunt. A ghost.

“Ms. Parker,” one of the officers spoke up, “please just give us a call when you’re ready. We have everything else we need for now. I’m very sorry.”

“I will, thank you,” my voice cracked. Ryan handed me a cup of water. As soon as the police were gone, the tears started to flow.

“Ssshhh, baby. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Ryan scooped me into his arms and breathed in, his forehead to mine, eyes screwed tight.

“I’m going to run to the market, Kate,” Carter whispered over me, brushing back my hair. He looked at Ryan. “Call me if you need me, man.” Ryan nodded and wrapped me tighter in his arms. The doorknob turned and that’s the last thing I remember before dozing back off, trying to kick off the heavy, suffocating blanket as I drifted, but the blanket wasn’t really there.

***

Trudging through the following weeks in a zombie-like state, the hours spent at work were hazy, and the counseling sessions I attended all blurred together, each session overlapping with another, until I couldn’t make out when one began and the other ended. I retained the information I was given, talked everything out to the point of exhaustion, but that didn’t alter the fact that I had changed. There was no going back, despite the fact that Mark and Eric hadn’t actually gone through with the rape.

The “what-if” plagued me more. Terrified me. The shock that these two men had gone so far as to try to take my free will wouldn’t subside. The reality that I’d gone against my instinct, my better judgment, allowing it to happen, wasn’t going anywhere, either. In fact, it festered and bubbled up inside of me, rooting itself way deep down, determined to never let me forget how foolish I’d been.

It didn’t matter that those were common reactions for rape victims—to feel guilty, to feel responsible in some way. Because the one thing I’d always had going for me was instinct. I’d known it from the beginning, sensed something foul in Mark. And going to the gala meant I’d betrayed that instinct entirely, blindfolded and gagged it, and for what? To declare my independence?
Stupidity.

No matter how many times my counselor confirmed it wasn’t my fault, I denied the opportunity to let myself off the hook. This time I’d gone too far to try to hold my own, to prove something to myself—and to Ryan. And now he and my friends were paying for it, too. Lost sleep, gray hair, and God knows what else. All because I worried them sick.

The atmosphere shifted between Ryan and me, him coming and going from work with only a few words and a sad smile, me sullen and edgy as we interacted each day. Channeling all of my anxious energy into writing, I’d found myself at a dead lull, unable to pull myself from the rut. Dean and Carter had made themselves scarce, and the silence around the apartment took on a life of its own, became safe and familiar. Welcome. Images of Ryan and Carter busting the hotel door down and knocking Eric and Mark out cold haunted me, even though I wasn’t awake to witness the scene. The thought of me lying there unconscious, what Ryan and Carter must’ve seen, the impact of their fists as they’d pummeled my attackers—all of it kept me stunned in silence, semi comatose.

When Ryan came home from work on Friday evening, he was just as quiet as he’d been over the past few weeks, but even more irritable. Shoving drawers shut in the kitchen and banging around the cabinets when he couldn’t find what he needed to make dinner, he slammed the fridge shut and just stood there, a slight tremor in his hands.

I rose to my feet from the counter bar stool and walked toward him, unsure if I should reach out and touch him. “Why are you so angry?” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Look, I’m sorry I lied to you about going to the gala, but you’re acting like I asked to be mauled by those scumbags. It was supposed to be a business meeting and it turned to shit; that part was out of my control. You can’t honestly think I deliberately went with them to their room, Ryan. They dragged me there and almost—”

“I know what almost happened, for fuck’s sake! I was there, remember? I pried the assholes off of you!”

I took a step back, feeling his hot breath on my face.

“I know you didn’t intend to cheat on me. And what they did...that will
never
be your fault, do you understand me?”

“Then what’s the problem?” I softened my tone of voice, lowering my chin. “Why can’t you forgive me about the damn gala? I feel bad enough, Ry.”

“Because it’s not just the fucking gala, Kate. It’s everything, from day one. The apartment—it’s yours, not ours. Your dreams—they’re yours, not mine to share with you. And the money,” he let out a frantic laugh, turning to face the living room window, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “I thought we were making progress when you accepted the rent money, my gift to you on Christmas. But you didn’t really accept it. No, what did you do? You picked up double shifts, then worked your ass off to save more money, and for what?”

“To pay for my own classes and bills, what do you mean, ‘what?’” I stepped forward, feeling defensive.
Where the hell is all of this coming from?

“Yeah, so you didn’t have to accept any more help from me. Even when you
did
let me help you, you never let me forget it, always reminding me it was temporary. That I could never take care of you. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Do you know how selfish it is?”

“Excuse me, selfish? Did I just hear that correctly? So, you’re angry I want to be financially stable? You’re pissed I want to hold on to my independence? Are you
kidding
me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to maintain your independence! Shit, that’s one of the things that drew me to you in the first place—your vitality, ambition, your strong will. But you use your independence as a shield, damn it. It’s just a disguise. Gives you another reason to keep everyone out. How can I compete with that?” He turned and threw a pan into the sink, the clatter making me wince. “How can I compete when there’s no room for me, when you won’t let me in, won’t let me share your life with you?”

“Ryan,” my shoulders slumped and I exhaled a slow, single breath. “That’s not...this isn’t...”

He faced me and stepped closer.

“I understand you wanted to continue things with Mark because you wanted to forge your own career path, wanted to handle it yourself. I get it. But at what expense? I almost fucking killed them when I walked in that room, Kate. Did Carter tell you? He had to pry me off of them. I just kept pounding their faces while you were there on the bed, half naked and passed out! Do you have any idea?” He exhaled, hands shaking. “No matter what, you have to have the upper hand. All this power-struggle banter between us? It’s not just a joke to you, I realize that now. It’s real. And I can’t do that. I won’t give myself to someone who won’t meet me half way.”

“Ryan, I realize that now. It kills me that you had to witness that—
kills
me! I’m sorry...I’ve been trying like hell to compromise with you, and I’m aware of how I can be...”

“You don’t want to compromise, Kate.” He rolled back on his heels, rested against the counter. “Look how painful it is for you to even
try
. You want to keep your distance and let me love you when it’s convenient for you. I know I’ve dealt a shitty hand in the relationship department before you. But being on the receiving end of a relationship where the woman you love won’t let you love her back...it’s a dead end.” He lifted his keys and wallet from the counter. “And I’ve had enough of dead ends.”

His soft shirt sleeve brushed my shoulder as he headed for the exit, the sound of the door closing behind him triggering an old, familiar ache, one that inspired my need to run.

Run.

18. EXPELLED

“You have to go to him. Just call in sick from work today and go talk things out.” Crystal took a healthy bite of her burrito, shaking her head adamantly. “Talk some sense into him. He’s had a few days to calm down.” She sat on my couch while I paced back and forth in the living room. I had to work that afternoon, but I was downright exhausted, unable to sleep since Ryan left. He’d come and taken his things when I’d been out working, left the apartment key in an envelope underneath the door mat. Now it had been four days since he walked out.

I refused to believe he was gone for good; it was all so ridiculous. He loved me, I knew this. And I loved him. Being separated wasn’t an option. Period. I knew I messed up, could understand and respect the fact that he’d felt inadequate in the relationship, that I’d kept him at arm’s length just as I had with so many relationships and friendships before him, but the fact that he moved his things out was so extreme. Surreal. I’d reason with him. He’d come back.

“He’s just angry, right? He’s just angry,” I kept pacing, biting my lip. The smell of Crystal’s lunch made me want to hurl. Dean arrived with a bagged lunch of his own, closing the front door behind him.

“What’d I miss?” He eyed Crystal as he took a bite of a falafel, sitting down next to her on the couch. The aromas in my living room were too much. I scurried over to the window and cracked it, leaning out to take a whiff of fresh air, breathing in then out slowly, evenly.

“She’s having another episode.” Crystal replied, dipping her burrito in some foul-smelling sauce.

“Do I need to get Carter over here? Do we need to have an intervention, Kate?”

“Dean, I’m really not in the mood for your and Carter’s stand-up act today,” I flashed him a warning with my eyes. His chewing slowed, eyebrows rose. “I have to go to work soon, I just...I don’t know what to say to make him understand that I’m sorry. Can’t he understand how much I have on my plate right now?” Dean and Crystal looked down at their lunches on their laps, chewing quietly when they realized what I meant. I’d decided to drop charges on Mark and Eric, wanted absolutely nothing to do with court, the police, testifying—none of it. They were already facing sentencing for possession of the drug, and that was enough for me. Some called it denial, lack of justice.

I called it moving on.

The counselors, the nurses—they all assured me that it was my right to forego charges, that women chose not to pursue their assailants all the time. As much as I wanted those assholes to pay for what they’d done—or tried to do—I wanted peace even more. Quiet. Distance. To start over and pretend the whole nightmare never happened. Only I had Ryan’s absence to remind me of the incident every second, with each stroke of the clock’s hand.

It was excruciating.

“I’ll be fine,” I added, crossing my arms and resuming my pacing, “we’ll be fine. He’ll come back. I’ll go to work this afternoon and when I come home, he’ll be here.”

Crystal cleaned up the last of her lunch, eyeballing Dean, jumping when my cell phone chimed. I listened to it ring for a second, then hurried to pull it out of my pocket and answer.
Ryan. It’s Ryan.
Flipping it open, I realized I didn’t recognize the number.
Shit. Not Ryan.