"My stomach sunk to my toes, and I asked her-not really wanting to know the answer-whose cum was in her pussy. And she looked up at me and said, ‘Tom’s’."
"Tom was her stepfather."
"Oh my God," I said. "Her stepfather…"
"Raped her," Ed finished. "Repeatedly. When she finally got it all out, it turned out this had been going on since she was twelve. And she decided she couldn’t live with it anymore. She needed an out. She needed to talk to someone. She had told her mother, but her mother hadn’t believed her, or so she said. So, she trusted me, so she dumped it on me."
"Oh, man," I said. "First her, then me. You must feel like the King Dumpee."
"That part I didn’t mind, not even from her," he smiled. "I was furious, of course, and worried, and upset-but I’m glad she chose me to tell. I felt honored that she trusted me with it. You too," he smiled at me.
I smiled back, but then got serious. "What did you do?"
"I convinced her to talk to Ellie, Mike’s mom. It took some doing, but I convinced her. She knew that going to Ellie-for something like that-meant it was going to have to be reported. She knew it would break up her family. That’s what had kept her from doing it for over two years. But she had had enough. She knew I’d insist she see Ellie."
"She did, and Ellie reported it. The problem was, it was her word against his. And, we found out, the mother would back him up-turns out she knew all along, but turned her back. She let this monster abuse her daughter to keep her marriage together."
"Oh, Jesus," I said.
"That devastated Annie, worse than when she just thought her mother didn’t believe her. So, it was her word against theirs-and admitting she had made love with me didn’t help. But the cops, and Ellie of course, did believe her, so they did the best they could. The bastard had a set schedule of when he raped her, if you can believe that. So, they used her as bait. They caught him in the act."
"He got arrested, as did the mother. Later on, both of them went to jail for a good long time. Anyhow, Annie got sent to foster care, and they found her a nice family here in town. For the next month, I spent most of my time holding her as she cried. I didn’t touch her other than that-didn’t seem like she was ready for that. I was just there for her as much as I could be."
"That’s not the end of the story," I said.
"No. After about a month, she came over to my house, and broke up with me. She said she needed to stand on her own two feet, she was leaning on me too much, that she needed to become independent. It made absolutely no sense to me. I tried to talk her out of it, but I couldn’t. I told her that I could back off, let her stand up for herself more, that I thought I was doing the right thing-but that, if I wasn’t, we could work it out. She said no, that it would never work, that I was too tied up in ‘rescuing’ her from her stepfather. She said she’d be eternally grateful to me for that, but she needed to get away from it."
"Shortly thereafter, I heard she was going out with Rocco Santelli. Rocco was a senior when we were freshman-so, he was three years older. Plus, he was the male Maggie Benson of his class. You think I have a reputation as a pussyhound? Rocco was the king pussyhound. And my one true love was with him. I confronted her, and asked her why, and she said she just wanted to have fun. And I wasn’t fun, I was too bound up in pain."
"Ed," I interjected, "you said you guys had sex once and it was fantastic." He nodded. "And after you found out about what had been going on allalong, remember, you didn’t touch her. That time with you was probably the only time in her life she ever felt good about sex. And then you stopped touching her, and she wanted to be touched. She probably thought you thought she was dirty. Look, I know all about finally having a fantastic physical experience after a few brutal ones, after yesterday. That explains Rocco."
"Yeah, and I know that now. But then, it didn’t make much sense." He sighed. "Anyway, shortly after Rocco, she was taken in by her aunt and uncle-this is her late father’s sister and her husband-and she moved to Newburgh. And I haven’t seen her since."
"You don’t even hear from her, or about her?" I asked.
"She writes me regularly, once a month. She started about four months after she left."
"So, you do know how she’s doing."
He looked down. "I’ve never opened one of her letters. I send them back return to sender. She keeps sending them, and I keep sending them back." He looked up with a wan humorless grin. "It’s almost a habit by now."
"Don’t you want to know?" I asked.
"Yes and no."
"What if she wants you back?"
"There’s too much water under that bridge."
"Yeah," I said. "But you’re still carrying a torch for her."
"No, I’m not," he said. "I’m still carrying a hole in my heart. There’s a difference."
"There’s not much of a difference if you’re the person trying to fix the hole," I said bitterly. He looked at me in surprise. "Look, you don’t think I have holes in my heart? Come on. It’s riddled with them. You were betrayed by a girlfriend-I am continually betrayed by my mother. Look, what happened to Annie was horrific-and what she did to you, while explainable-she must have still been in shock and very confused-wasn’t nice, either. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself."
I took a breath. "I recognize the need to heal my wounds. I also recognize the need for help doing so. I thought you were the person to help me. And, now that I know, I’d certainly be willing to help you as much as I’m able. Look, I understand part of what Annie said to you. I understand the need to stand on my own two feet. However, do you know how long I’ve already been doing that? I don’t want you to carry me. But I’d like someone-you-walking along side. I’d like a shoulder to lean on."
"I’m not Annie. Ed, listen to me-I am not Annie! For one thing, I’m older, and better able to deal with things. For a second thing, what’s happened to me isn’t nearly as bad. For a third thing, I dumped my tale of woe on you before there was anything really between us-it was starting, it’s still starting, but it’s not like we’ve known each other for three years and been going out for two months. Do I feel gratitude towards what you’ve done? Of course I do. But that’s the gratitude for the friendship you’ve offered me. What happened in your bed last night-that wasn’t friendship. That was something more. And you know it."
"You make me feel things I never thought I’d feel. That didn’t happen because I’m grateful, or because you’re a nice guy with a good Samaritan streak. It happened because there’s something between us! I was willing to explore it-I wanted to explore it. I daydreamed yesterday about having sex with you. I have never daydreamed about having sex, ever. More like nightmares. But I daydreamed about it with you."
He was sitting behind the wheel of his car, looking at me in abject shock. "Look, this is the bottom line. What Annie did to you broke your heart. But if you don’t take a chance on us-because I know, that deep down in your heart, you want to-you’ll be breaking my heart. And my heart can’t take much more damage. Furthermore, if you’re really truthful with yourself, you’ll be breaking your own heart-which also has enough damage."
"You need to think about that. You can take a chance, or you can bury your feelings. I know what I choose. I’m sick of burying my feelings. Maybe you should be, too."
"It was two years ago, Ed. You can’t hide forever."
With that, I opened the door and got out of the car, and walked away. Crying my ever-loving eyes out. He was still in the car. I’m not sure he could move.