Today I had a breakdown. It’s been a while and I’m not sure when I’ll have another. I kept seeing Tony’s face. I want to hit him so bad and I want to see him to get answers. Why did he pick me that night? Why did he do that?
Every time I get the courage to take the five hour drive to the prison where he’s located, I stop myself. I only get about twenty minutes from my house before I turn back. I don’t think I can do it. But I think I have to. Does that make sense?
No one knows I need this and I’m not sure if I should tell anyone. What should I do?
Putting away my journal, I head to my bathroom to get ready for bed. My mind is full of what’s going on with Ryan, Tyler, and what happened today at the gym. I hate breaking down and letting what happened to me affect me. I know rape is difficult and I know it’s all about time. But sometimes I want to make myself forget and never feel that kind of pain. That violation and self-loathing.
Coming out of the bathroom, I see Ryan sitting on the edge of my bed. He’s wearing cargo shorts and a white tee. His hair’s recently been washed. When he lifts his head to look at me, I stop mid-step and stay where I’m standing. He stares at me as I open my mouth to say something, anything, because this whole showing up without being invited is not cute anymore.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need you to talk to me,” he answers and gets up to walk towards me. “I read some entries in your journal. Why are you blaming yourself?”
“You read my private journal? Are you serious Ryan?” I push him, using all my strength to cause some kind of pain, but he doesn’t move. “You can’t come here and think you can waltz back into my life and start your bullshit about that night. There’s nothing to talk about,” I scream, “I’m dealing with it. How dare you invade my privacy?”
“You left it out in the open.” I roll my eyes and snatch the journal away from him. I’m so angry he’s here and reading my words. “Why don’t you see your therapist anymore?”
“Because I don’t want to. I don’t need to. Why are you even here? Get out of my room and don’t come back!”
“Not until you talk to me, sweetheart.” I glare at him, ready to slap the smug look on his face. “Talk. Now.”
“No. N-O,” I spell out for him. “Understand that, asshole.”
“When did you get sassy?” He smirks.
“It’s not sassy. It’s being annoyed, upset, and angry. Go, now. Thanks.”
“Not leaving until you talk, sweetheart.”
Being the stubborn person I am, I cross my arms and walk to my bed. I’m not playing these games with him. If he can’t answer my questions, then why should I answer his? An internal battle is raging inside me.
Why’s he back?
What does he want?
Should I trust him?
“I can stay here if you won’t talk.” He sits on my bed and keeps his stare on me.
“Tell me why you’re back.”
“No thank you,” he reaches out for my hand and I pull away. “I want to know how you’re doing because I care about you and want to know you’re okay. I’ll tell you my reasons for being back, but not tonight. That’s saved for a different time. When I can talk to you and Tyler at the same time. It’s something the both of you should know.”
“Okay,” I respond, “I can handle that. He should be back in a few weeks.”
“Good.”
“Good,” I repeat.
“So talk. I promise you I’ll tell you my reasons for being back if you tell me what’s going on.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab a pillow and hug it tightly against my chest. My body trembles with fear knowing we are going to be talking about that night. Sometimes it’s easier to try and forget. Only with his piercing eyes on me, that won’t happen.
“I think about it a lot. I dream about it and all I want is to know why he picked me that night. Why did he have to do that to me? I want to see him and look him in the eyes. I want to see if he’s even sorry,” I explain, almost screaming when I tell him how I feel, “I want closure.”
“Sweetheart, you won’t get it. You heard him on the stand, he doesn’t know why he picked you and he apologized. Yeah, that was bullshit and nothing he can say or do will help, but at least you know it’s not your fault.”
“What do you mean? You weren’t there. You left already.”
He nods his head, “I was there. I was there when you took the stand and I saw you breaking down. I wanted to come see you, but Tyler was there and I knew you were okay.”
“I wasn’t, though.”
“But you will be. Baby steps.” Suddenly he’s standing before me with his hands on my face. “I’m sorry. And I need you to forgive me.”
“What?” I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s going on or what to say. I try to pull back and get space. I don’t want to be this close to him. He pulls me closer and his eyes are trained on mine.
“Tell me you forgive me. That we can be the way we used to be. I messed up so bad and I don’t’ want to do that again. I know you should hate me. You have every right to hate me. But please don’t. I can’t handle it.” I’m not sure why his words are cutting me deep. I’m sobbing in his arms and all I can hear him say is everything’s going to be alright.
“You shouldn’t have left. I needed you. We needed you.” I sob harder, gripping his tee shirt in my hands.
Pulling me back to look at him, he caresses my face and kisses my forehead, “I know. I needed you too. But I’m back and things are going to be better. Okay?” I nod, hoping he means what he says.
In the morning, I get ready and figure I have no idea what to wear on this thing with Ryan. Sending him a text, he responds with a message that included an eye roll.
Ryan: Bikini =p
Me: You’re ridiculous. Seriously please.
Ryan: Fine. You’re no fun this morning. Shorts and a shirt is fine. I’ll be there soon =)
The smile emoticon scares me. I finish getting ready and head downstairs to wait for him. Part of me still wonders about Ryan and why he’s here. Taking out my phone, I send a message to Mandy to tell her about Ryan’s unexpected homecoming.
Mandy: Ryan Scott . . . Is back . . . In NY?
Me: Yep and he’s on the way over. Care to bet why he’s back?
Mandy: Honestly, I have no idea . . . Haven’t talked to the guy for a few years . . . Could be anything. Be careful tho
Me: I know . . . I’ll be fine
Mandy: PS we need to have dinner soon
Me: I agree. I need to know more about Mystery Man AKA my BOSS!
Mandy: Shut up lol
There’s a knock on the door. I get up from the bar stool and open the door to find Ryan holding a hula hoop in his hand.
“Are you serious?”
“I sure am. I don’t joke around with bucket lists.”
He pulls me outside and we walk to my backyard. Once he’s given me my hoop and walks to the opposite side, he turns around and faces me.
“So, you know the position. Go ahead.”
“Fine,” I seethe. Putting the hula hoop around my waist, I watch Ryan skillfully move his hips and the hoop swinging. “Not fair,” I tell him.
After too many failed attempts, I throw the damn thing across the yard and pout like a child. I can do almost anything, yet moving my hips so that thing can swing is next to impossible.
“Get up, Bayleigh.” I shake my head. “Fine, sit there and pout.” He disappears and I let out a breath. I guess I’m being too ridiculous and he had enough. Suddenly, ice cold water is sprayed on me. I scream loudly and jump up. Turning around, I see Ryan holding a hose with a big grin on his face.