“But why hide this from me? Why?” I ask, a little louder.
Drake quickly gets up from the bed and snakes his hands through his hair. “Because I was trying to save you from all this. From that fucker, Isaac. From my past. Even from me. But you had to push it, didn’t you? You had to push and fucking push until the monster I used to be came out.”
My eyes start pooling with tears. “What do you mean?”
He stares back at me with only anger in his eyes. “Don’t you see that this was what I was protecting you from all this time? If you were to see me—truly see who I once was—you would never love me. You could never love a monster like me.”
Wetness trickles down my cheeks. “Drake, please. I need to understand. You have a responsibility to tell me. I’m your wife.”
“That’s right. You are my fucking wife. But why would a wife run away from her husband?”
Feeling my anger rise, I get up. “Because you forced me. Don’t you understand? Ever since I was thirteen, you forced your will—your everything—on me. The lady who drove me knew about you. She told me about her friend’s niece you saved. She told me you got her off drugs, put her in college, and placed a roof over her head. Why couldn’t you have done that for me?”
Walking over to me, he grabs my shoulders. “You were in danger. I couldn’t let that fucker, Isaac, take you.”
I look into his eyes, and I know that’s not the only reason. “There’s more to it than that. I can tell. What are you hiding from me?”
He grips my arms tightly and then lets go. He starts pacing the room before looking back to me. “Okay. You really want to know the truth?” I nod. “I was once Isaac. I was once that monster who took girls and made them do things they didn’t want to do.”
I cower back, shaking my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it because it’s fucking true.” He walks closer to me and points. “Do you know what my father gave me for my twelfth birthday?” I shake my head. “He gave me a drugged up whore to fuck. She was taken just like you were. Strapped up just like you were. I was only twelve—a virgin. He made me fuck her. Told me I needed to be a man. How is becoming a man fucking some drugged up girl against her will? How is it, Evelyn? Tell me!”
I step back, trying to fight the tears. I feel desperate. How do I answer something so fucked up as that? I stare at Drake dumbfounded. He’s not looking at me with the same daring prowess and confidence he always exudes. Instead, he looks lost—broken even. I think back to when I was drugged by his father and Drake took me to the basement and called me his whore. He didn’t look like my Drake then.
“You were just a boy.”
He inhales sharply, still not able to look at me. It’s almost as if he feels embarrassed to. “Yes, I was just a boy, but I could have said no. I even tried to say no. Instead, my father gave me that big man speech, and because it was my father, I believed him. I ended up losing my virginity to that woman, and I bet she didn’t remembered it for a while. It does come back, though.” He looks over to me as if trying to get me to remember. Remember what, though? My head is still fuzzy from the last twenty-four hours.
“I cried that night. And I cried several times after. But, I became immune to them after a while. Once I turned sixteen, he stopped drugging some. I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it with a conscious woman, but I did, Evelyn. Again, I told my father no, but he forced me, saying that otherwise he’d kill her. So, I fucked her. I fucked her as she cried and told me everything was going to be okay. That she wouldn’t blame me. Can you imagine what that does to a sixteen-year-old boy, Evelyn?” He looks at me then. I see the pain and the desperation staring back at me. Now, I understand him better. I want to comfort him, but at the same time, a part of me feels like I should be disgusted with him.
Against my better judgment, my feet move, and I go to him, placing a hand on his cheek. Drake closes his eyes and cups his hand on mine. “You were just a boy,” I say again, hoping that it’ll sink in.
Drake opens his eyes and stares into mine. “But that boy became a man.”
I wince when he says this. Was he still doing these things after we met? “When you met me …”
“I stopped. One look at you, and something snapped inside of me. You were only twelve, and yet you captivated me. I took one look, and what I saw in myself when I looked at you terrified me. You made me see the man I had become, but you also made me see what I could be. I couldn’t possibly let you go.”