Dane(29)

My anger got the best of me and I slammed the lid of the laptop shut. It  startled Gabi awake. She sat straight up and reached for the computer  as if to hide it. As if she didn't want me to see what was on it.

"Gabi, baby … it's okay." I tried to soothe her when the tears started.  They filled her large brown eyes and cascaded down her cheeks in a race  against time. With her face in my hands, I lowered my forehead to hers  and whispered, "It's over. It's all over now. He's gone."

Instead of comforting her, it only seemed to make things worse. She  pulled away from me and covered her face with her hands, sobbing loudly.  Her shoulders jumped with every hiccup, and the more she cried, the  more she curled into herself.

"What's going on, Gabs? Talk to me. Why are you so upset?"

"He killed himself. He's dead." Her words were muffled, but they weren't  impossible to hear. Except, they didn't make any sense. The bastard's  death should've offered her some peace of mind, but instead, it seemed  to cause her more anguish.

"I know … I know. I'm mad, too. He's a coward who ended his life instead of facing what he did to you."

"No!" Gabi dropped her hands and stared at me with wide, glistening  eyes. Her shoulders were hunched forward and her knees drawn tightly  against her chest. This was a woman on the verge of falling apart. "You  don't get it. It's my fault he died. I'm the one who ruined his life."

Her words stunned me into silence and I couldn't manage to pull myself  together fast enough to say anything. When she couldn't catch her breath  through her tears, I knew I had to come up with something. I had to do  something to calm her down. I rubbed her back in soothing circles and  said, "It wasn't your fault. He's the monster. He ruined his own life  when he raped you, Gabriella."

I hated saying "rape" in front of her-I knew how sensitive she was about  the word, but her therapist had urged us to use the word. Calling it  anything other than what it was only pacified the situation. She needed  to face what had happened to her, and that wouldn't take place if we  skated around the issue.

But that didn't seem to calm her in the slightest. She wiped her face  and scooted away from me. "He killed himself because he couldn't get a  job, he couldn't get his own house, he couldn't do anything. He had to  register as a sex offender, for God's sake. And it's all because of me!"         

     



 

I reached out and touched her knee, trying to offer her as much support  as she'd take. "Gabriella, listen to me. It's not your fault. He  couldn't get a job or a house because of his actions. Not yours. He was a  monster and that's why his life went the way it did. You have to stop  blaming yourself. Please. You did nothing wrong."

I hated talking about it because all it did was bring up the memories of that horrible day.

The day she stopped answering my calls and never showed up at school.

The day I rushed to her house before the lunch bell rang.

The day I nearly lost everything.

I'd thought about killing him that day. And talking about it only made  me wish he were still alive so I could knock on his door and put a  bullet in his skull.

"I told the police he raped me." Her throaty voice, filled with  immeasurable sorrow, abraded over me and left me physically hurting for  her.

"That's why you're blaming yourself? You think if you hadn't told anyone  he wouldn't have killed himself? Gabi, listen to me." I caressed her  face and waited until I had her attention before continuing. "If you  didn't turn him in, then he would've ended up hurting someone else. Who  knows how many girls he might've attacked had you not gone to the cops  with the truth. He killed himself because he's a coward who couldn't  handle people knowing the truth about him."

Her face scrunched up as more silent tears came. When I went to wipe  them away, she shoved my hand aside, then held it on top of the bed. I  waited-for what, I wasn't sure, but I knew she needed a moment to  compose herself.

When her breathing had returned enough for her to speak, she opened her  mouth. Words came out. Words that made no sense. I heard them, but they  wouldn't register in my head. It was like watching a foreign film with  the captions on. You see the words, but they're meaningless. Another  language. Nothing but letters connecting to form sentences that don't  make any sense.

"Did you hear me, Dane?"

I blinked, unable to move, and tried to process it all. "Yeah, I heard you. But I don't know what you mean."

"I lied, Dane. I ruined his life. It is my fault he's dead, because he never raped me."

Suddenly, her hand on mine scorched my skin. Fire licked up my arm,  charred my neck, and set my entire being ablaze. Anger, confusion,  complete and utter shock hit me all at once. Again, her words jumbled in  my mind, not fully translating. Disbelief blinded me to the meaning.

I snatched my hand away and stood up. I stared at her, desperately  trying to get the fog in my head to clear. "You lied?" As soon as I  spoke, the confusion cleared, and her confession rang in my head like  alarm bells. "You lied?" I screamed.

Gabi flinched, but I didn't have it in me to care.

"You fucking lied, Gabriella? He never raped you?" My heart stopped  beating while waiting for her reaction. I was desperate for her to say  I'd misunderstood. That I'd somehow heard her wrong. But instead of  telling me that, she nodded, confirming the worst. "So you told the cops  he raped you, told the judge, the jury, the entire courtroom, and me"-I  slapped my chest with my open palm to punctuate my words-"that he raped  you, when he didn't? You put a man behind bars for no fucking reason?"

I took a step back. She reached out for me with tears lining her face,  and I took another step away. Before I knew it, I was in the doorway,  ready to flee. The sight of her disgusted me. The thought of her made me  want to punch a wall. I couldn't fathom all the years I'd stayed by her  side, supported her, pulled her out of the darkest shadows of her  depression, and the entire time, it'd all been a lie.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I seethed through clenched teeth.

"Dane," she pleaded, still reaching for me. "Let me explain."

"Are you kidding me?" I screamed with my hands in the air, preventing  her from speaking. "There's nothing to explain, Gabi. Nothing!"  Everything had been a lie. All of it. I couldn't process anything while  looking at her. It only made me angrier.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked beneath her, and  regarded me with large, pleading eyes. It was too much. I'd fallen for  that expression too many times, and I refused to do it again. I had to  leave, to get away from her presence before I exploded and did something  I'd end up regretting.

"Where are you going?" Gabi called out after I turned around, heading to our room.

"I'm going to work."

The pitter-patter of her feet on the hardwood floor followed me,  catching up to me right before I made it to the room. "Will you be back?  Will you talk to me when you come home? We need to talk, Dane. I need  you to listen to me."         

     



 

I spun on my heel, taking her off guard, and leaned into her face. "I'm  not coming home. I can't be here with you. I'm not interested in  listening to your lies anymore, Gabriella. I'm done. I've stayed this  entire time for you." My voice was low and gritty, my feelings not going  unnoticed. "I'm done."

Without giving her a moment to respond, I turned around and slammed the  door closed behind me. The entire room tilted and I felt as if I weren't  in my body. As if I were nothing but a bystander watching this all take  place. I wasn't in control of my actions, and certainly not my  thoughts. I had tunnel vision from the time I snatched the duffel bag  from the closet until the time I zipped it up, not caring what clothes  I'd grabbed and thrown inside. I didn't even know where I'd stay or for  how long. All I knew was I needed to get out of here. I needed to be  away from Gabi.

And I needed her to be gone before I returned.

My dress shirt was more than likely wrinkled, and my slacks creaseless.  But I didn't care. I couldn't even remember putting the clothes on, let  alone tying my tie or shoes. Somehow, in a daze, I'd gotten dressed for  work, and by the time my brain caught up to my actions, I was in the  doorway with my bag in hand.

Gabi was on the couch, staring at me with swollen eyes and puffy cheeks.

"I'll be back Sunday afternoon." I ignored the hope in her eyes and  continued. "When I get back, you need to be gone. Take everything you  want. The couch you've cried into for months. The bed I've had to drag  you out of more times than I can count. The box of papers chronicling  the lie you've lived for half your life. All of it … none of it. I don't  care, just as long as you're not here."

"I have nowhere to go, Dane." Grief dripped from every word, although it did nothing for me.