“It’s okay.” He says quietly. “Carry on.”
I don’t want to tell him these things, but he needs to understand. I need him to know. That may be selfish, and I can’t explain why, but I want him to know. I can’t keep running and fighting. I want to stand still…with him.
So I tell him about my living nightmare. “This went on for years. Most of the time Harry would try and stand between Shane and I. He got beaten so badly, so many times.” My voice breaks and I dig my nails into my palms to stop the age-old pain from rising to the surface. Now is not the time. I fight back images of Harry’s broken body, and try to focus on Theo. His eyes soften and he reaches out and brushes my cheek gently. I drop my eyes. I can’t take his pity right now. I hate it. It’s not fair of me to ask him not to feel it, but I fucking hate it.
I pull away from his touch and look away from him, unable to take his sympathy. I keep talking, the words pouring from me in a torrent of pain and anger. “When I was thirteen Shane started to treat me differently. I was no longer a dog to be kicked around for amusement. I could entertain him in a wholly different way. It did help keep him away from Harry though.” I can feel the bile threatening to creep up my throat. I clutch at my stomach and breath deep. I’ve never had to say this, never had to utter the words.
Theo stiffens next to me. He places his hands on either side of his head. “Fuck!” He says brokenly. I feel like a monster for inflicting my pain upon him.
“Hey.” I whisper as I place my hand against his cheek. “Look at me.” His eyes meet mine, and they’re tortured. “I made my peace with this a long time ago.” As much peace as a fuck load of vodka can bring. He closes his eyes, a frown etching across his features before he nods his head stiffly.
“Go on.” He says the words, but his body language tells me he’s heard more than enough.
I pull my hand back as an uneasy feeling swirls in my stomach. Doubt starts to creep into my mind, and my former resolve seems to have run out the door screaming. Some things, you can never take back. If I tell him this now, he might never look at me the same way. Can I take that risk? “Theo, I…this is my burden. There is a very good reason that I didn’t tell you about this before. You don’t need to hear the rest. I think you have a pretty good picture.” I tell him.
“No.” He cuts me off. “If you can be strong enough to sit here and tell me these things, then I can be strong enough to hear them. I won’t pretend it doesn’t upset me, or make me angry. It does. So fucking much. But this is your life, your past, and Lilly, I want to know everything there is to know about you. The good and the bad.”
I nod my head and fight back the tears that threaten to spill. I drop my gaze back to my hands in my lap. Shame and resentment, crawl over my skin like insects. “When I was fourteen Shane started selling me.”
“Oh, fuck no.” He breathes. He stands up abruptly and stalks across the room. I don’t follow him. I can’t. I feel stripped bare and raw, as though every single part of my ugly is on full display. I don’t like feeling exposed. Ever. I hear the patio doors slide open. The cool autumn air blows into the house, making me shiver slightly.
I glance toward the doors. The afternoon sun frames Theo’s form as he leans on the railings that surround the patio. He hangs his head. His entire demeanour just looks defeated. Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, there is only so much you can give. Theo may have had an selfish mother, but his life has mainly been care free and blessed. His world is untouched by the ugliness that cloaks mine. I just brought that ugliness into his world. I just made him deal with something that I had no right to ask him to deal with. I may hate it, but I have come to terms with my past. I have spent years feeling tainted and soiled by what was done to me. I spent most of those years in self –destruct mode, not giving a shit about anything, because honestly, I was continuously chasing a fix. Whether it was alcohol or sex, I was chasing that numb feeling. I wanted to be dead inside. When I got date raped, it made me realise that I was letting my past control my present. I let it rule my actions, which resulted in me being dragged back to the very place I was trying so desperately to escape in the first place. So I stopped wallowing in it, and I decided to fight it. I focused entirely on my degree, and I made my career my escape. I used men when I wanted sex, and I didn’t let anyone get close, until Theo.
As much as I hate to admit it though, I want him close. I want him to know every sordid detail of my life. I want him to shoulder the burden of my secrets, the way he shoulders everything else, but it’s not fair to ask that. I love him, and I don’t want those images in his head. There’s that small and broken part of me that still feels dirty and ashamed. I didn’t lose my virginity to a nice boy, or even in a drunken haze. I lost my virginity to a man almost three times my age, as he held me down whilst I screamed. Knowing that can change the way you look at a person. I wouldn’t blame Theo if he couldn’t stomach this. I’m damaged goods, a broken girl just trying to play the strong woman. My insecurities claw at me like a rabid animal. My walls come up on high alert, an instant reaction to the vile feeling that I hate so fucking much. Weakness. Vulnerability.