Stay With Me

Stay With Me

Chapter 29

I didn’t feel anything on the way back to the apartment. There was just emptiness, one that was probably temporary but for now it was better than facing what had just happened. I didn’t want to acknowledge the betrayal, and the total invasion by a person I thought I could trust. He’d looked so broken when I left, and part of me knew he hadn’t truly meant to hurt me. I shouldn’t think about that though. Not right then. I needed to get back to safety, I needed to lock myself away and not break down in the middle of the street.

It wasn’t long until I made it back, slamming the apartment door behind me without flinching at the loud bang. That was when my breathing finally started to change. I went from breathing hard, to being unable to breathe at all. I couldn’t feel the air going into my lungs. My vision was slowly blurring, so I made my way to the couch while I could still see. Panic attacks were nothing new to me, but it still hit me hard every single time. I couldn’t be rational; if I was, I would know that the suffocating feeling was a lie, that I was actually breathing too much.

How could I let it happen again? How could I have been so foolish to think anything good could have come out going over to Gerard’s? My stupidity didn’t know any bounds, and once again I had put myself in a position to be hurt. It was my fault; I had crushed him and brought him to his breaking point, and I reaped the hurt I sowed.

“Fuck” I let out a shaky gasp, my hands finding their way to my hair and pulling tightly. It hurt, but it was a good pain. It calmed me down, brought me back to the present and eased the shaking that wracked my entire body.

That’s when I heard the key in the lock, and my heart jumped. Frank was home, and I wasn’t prepared. I was still shaking, my breathing not right. Fuck, I didn’t want him to see me like this. I didn’t want him to question me, I couldn’t ever let him know what had happened. It’d ruin the small progress we were making to fix us. Or even worse, maybe he wouldn’t care. I couldn’t blame him for it; lately all I’d done is ruin things. I was a mess, and there was only so much he would take before he lost his patience.

I tried to take a few deep breaths. I needed to block it out. I needed to find the mask I had worn for long, use it again to fool everyone like I’d done for years. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to feel calm. I didn’t need to truly feel it, just convince myself that I was. Fake it until I could let everything go.

“Hey” Frank greeted. He sounded tired, which wasn’t surprising considering that he’d had a long day.

“I left dinner in the microwave for you” I informed him, my voice convincingly normal.

“Thanks” he muttered.

I didn’t turn to watch him, like I normally would have. I kept my eyes trained on the TV, praying that Frank would go to bed early as he did on the odd occasion he was forced to work late. Hopefully he’d eat at the table, instead of on the couch, and avoid me as he’s been doing the last few weeks. I didn’t want him near me, not just then. Perhaps I should make an excuse, go to bed early. Hide, like I was so good at.

I swallowed when I heard his footsteps, and held back the flinch when he sat down beside me. After all the time I’d spent wishing he’d show me some kind of affection, or at least stop keeping his distance, tonight was the night he was acting like he didn’t hate me. And it was the one night in all that time that I didn’t want him.

He ate silently, his eyes fixated on the TV. I wanted to get up and leave, but doing so would make him take notice. He sat forward, the plate resting on his lap, eating quickly. He must have forgotten to eat all evening, as he was prone to do when working late. All he wanted to do was get home. It used to be because he wanted to spend time with me; now, it was only because he was tired and wanted sleep. I wasn’t his reason for anything anymore. That thought, which would usually make tears well in my eyes, didn’t cut like it should. I was too numb to feel anything. Or, at least I told myself that. Numb was what I needed. Numb was safe.

Frank put the plate on the coffee table when he finished, and leaned back, letting out a sigh as he finally relaxed after eating.

“How was your day?”

I turned to face Frank, my face blank.

“It was fine. How was yours?”

Frank was looking at me, really looking at me for the first time in a while. It made me wonder if he could sense something was wrong, if I was failing at pretending I was alright. I didn’t want him questioning, I didn’t want to lie but I couldn’t tell the truth.

“Long, but we finally got the project finished. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” I was probably too quick to answer.

He didn’t look convinced.

“You just seem...tense” he remarked.

He had the bit between his teeth now; his face was set with determination. I couldn’t help but feel like it was some kind of test. He wanted an answer, something other than ‘I’m fine’. Nothing else would do now. He wanted openness, and honesty. It was the genuine concern in his eyes that broke through, though. There was an expectation that I would break, and suddenly it felt like too much. I couldn’t hide, and pretend nothing was wrong when everything was falling apart. That I wasn’t hurt and filled with so much self disgust and hatred for myself. That I had once again been betrayed by a person I trusted. I had let it happen again.

The tears leaked first, which I wiped away quickly. Then, Frank was there, his arms around me and pulling me close. That’s when I broke. The sobs came out, loud enough to drown out the background noise. I let it all out, the pain and misery, the dirtiness that wouldn’t be washed away no matter how many times I showered later. It would never leave; it would become a stain that soaked through and couldn’t be gotten rid of, no matter what I used. I learned by now that I was fooling myself for years into believing I could get rid of the past.

“Grace, what is it?” He cooed, holding me tight in his arms as I sobbed my heart out onto his chest, hiding my face in his shirt. It was the first real intimacy I’d had with Frank in weeks, something I was craving as much as I wanted to push him away. It was too conflicting; it was comforting and painful in equal measure.

I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the look on his face because, whether I told the truth or lied, there wouldn’t be a happy outcome.

“Something happened,” I paused, a hiccup preventing me from continuing.

“Tell me about it” Frank demanded gently, giving me a little squeeze.

I took a breath, and waited. There was no point trying to talk when all I was capable of was hiccupping. Frank didn’t say anything; he patiently kept his arms wrapped around me. Maybe part of him knew that I needed time. It took what felt like an age to gain back some control.

“Grace?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it quickly in hesitation. I didn’t want more lies, but the truth wasn’t going to be easy. I cuddled into his chest, hiding my face, and from his.

“I...I went to see Gerard, to tell him to stop calling me. He...he tried to...” I stopped, unable to say the words. I couldn’t say them out loud, it made more real to acknowledge it verbally.

Franks arms quickly left my body. He forced me to sit straight with one swift movement, and then forced a hand under my chin to make me look at him. He was angry. I could see it in the way his jaw was clenched tight.

“He tried to what, Grace? Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head, tried to look back down but his hand had stayed in place to stop me from doing so.

“I’m sorry” was all I could say.

“Grace, what exactly did he do? You need to tell me.”

I took a gasping breath, wishing he wouldn’t make me say it. I knew he wouldn’t let me go until I said it.

“He...Frank, please don’t make me say it. I can’t” I whimpered, and Frank’s face crumbled for a fraction of a second.

“Grace, I...fuck, I’m thinking the worse here.”

“He just...touched me,” The words were like acid on my tongue, I hated saying them.

There was relief on his face. It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Somehow, it was a degree less horrifying than if Gerard had used his dick instead of his hands. I couldn’t feel the same way. It didn’t matter what had been used, it was still unwanted. I still felt the same way I’d felt on the nights Nick had come into my bedroom all those years ago.

Frank’s arms were around me again, and this time I clung to him. He wasn’t screaming at me, he wasn’t walking away. He was shaking hard, his arms tight around me.

“Why the fuck did you go there Grace?” His voice was broken as he spoke.

I felt the guilt then, the sense that it’d been my fault for being there. I shouldn’t have gone, I should’ve just stayed at home and ignored the calls.

“I thought he’d stop calling me if I talked to him. He said he just wanted to talk, that I owed it to him. I thought it’d help him if I let him talk.”

The statement was met with silence. Frank was breathing loud, I was whimpering, both of us a mess just clinging to each other like our lives depended on it. It felt like an eternity had passed before Frank eventually let go of me, putting his hands on my face and forcing my gaze on him.

“What happened wasn’t your fault, Grace. I need you to know that, okay?” His tone was forceful, “We need to make an appointment with your therapist for tomorrow, we’ll both go. Okay?”

I nodded.

“You’re not angry with me?”

He didn’t respond straight away. He bit his lip,

“You want me to be honest? Yes, I’m mad at you. I’m mad that you didn’t tell me he was calling you, I’m mad that you thought it was okay to go see him when we’re trying to pick up the pieces of our relationship, but right now, I’m trying to put that aside because now is not the time to get into it after what happened to you. So let’s discuss it when we get to see Nina tomorrow.”

A small sob escaped from my lips, part relieved and part anxious about what would happen when the time came to talk about it.

***************

“So Grace. Frank called saying something had happened. Is everything alright?” Nina asked, getting to the point the second Frank and I were seated on the couch that was now feeling like a second home. It was funny how a couch could be so comfortable, and yet so cold and uninviting in the same measure. It did it’s job from a technical point of view; but it never made me want to sink into it and let go. I always sat upright, back rigid and ready to defend myself at any moment from a verbal attack.

“Obviously not,” I stopped myself from rolling my eyes at the question, knowing it was Nina’s way of getting me to open up without her leading me. She was trying to get me to be more proactive in our conversations now, she wanted me to be more in control of what we talked about. Which was fine for the most part, though sometimes I nearly wished she would go back to the early days when she would ask me questions hoping that I would let her in, so she could pick me apart and ‘understand me’.

She didn’t say anything at my somewhat snarky reply. She just nodded, sat back on the chair in a clear move that said ‘I’m ready when you are’.

I couldn’t help but nervously look at Frank with a side glance, biting my lip as I did so. He was eerily calm, which made me nervous. I didn’t know how he was so collected, because I was anything but. I had woken up in the morning determined not to let what happen interfere with my day in work. Frank had stayed with me that night, cuddling me in a way I’d long for since he found out about Gerard. It’d been a source of comfort when I woke in the middle of the night, after another nightmare. He didn’t say much to me before he left for work, so I had no idea what to expect when Nina would give him his chance to speak.

“I, uh, I went to see Gerard last night,” I mumbled, staring the floor so I wouldn’t see Nina’s face, or Frank’s. I wasn’t ready to talk about it, I didn’t want to relive what happened and remember how utterly weak I’d felt in that moment. I didn’t want to deal with the guilt of knowing I shouldn’t have been there in the first place. It was my own weakness and selfishness that had put me in the situation.

“I see. Can I ask why?” Nina asked, filling in the silence.

“He’d been calling me, texting me, saying he wanted to talk. I thought if I went and let him talk, maybe it would help him or something.”

“Did it?”

I shook my head. The tears welled up in my eyes, and I took a shuddering breath. I exhaled, and found that I couldn’t talk. I opened my mouth and no sound came out. I cleared my throat, feeling as though I was choking on the air.

Nina could see my distress. She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly with the same concern I'd seen the first time I'd met her.

“Did he hurt you, Grace?” There was an edge of anger she failed hide in her otherwise calm demeanour.

I couldn't explain why, but it somehow made it easier to speak, hearing that anger. It wasn't pity, or worry. It was something I could grasp onto and use. It was an emotion I could imitate.

“He tried.” I gave her a pleading look, begging her not to ask anymore. To let that be enough for now. I needed to be allowed to forget about it.

She nodded, understanding my silent request.

“Have you contacted the police?”

“No” Frank answered for me. He didn't hide the fact he disagreed with my refusal to get them involved. He wanted Gerard to be locked up, punished in some way. I couldn’t do that to Gerard though, not when I knew he wasn’t himself. He wasn’t a predator waiting to attack; he was just in pain.

Nina didn’t respond to Frank, instead she kept her focus on me.

“How are you feeling?”

The questioned made me look up. It was such a simple question, but it was one I never got asked anymore. Sure, I was asked if I was okay, to which a ‘yes’ was an expected answer. No one who asked that actually wanted to know about how you were feeling, not really. It was an insincere way of acting as though you actually gave a shit when you didn’t. Asking how I was feeling meant I had to give some kind of answer, an explanation of my emotions.

“Angry. At myself. I shouldn’t have gone there. I thought if I could talk to him, it might give him closure or something.”

“He’s a grown man Grace; you were never responsible for him, nor do you owe him closure. The thing to ask yourself is what made you think you owe him anything?”

“Guilt” the words slipped out before I knew I’d said them.

I could feel Frank shift beside me. I sensed his anger at my statement, and I knew it wasn’t something he should have heard. It was a sure way for him to think that I wasn’t fully committed to making us work. My acknowledgment of my feelings for Gerard probably felt like a smack in the face to him. My gut twisted again, and it all felt too much.

“Do you feel guilty for ending things with him?”

I wanted to hide right then. This wasn’t something to ask in front of Frank, it wasn’t something I wanted to think about. The cold couch wouldn’t let me sink away, and neither would Frank’s eyes, which were fixed on my face, trying to read whatever thoughts were going through my head.
“I hurt him...I...fuck, I don’t know why okay? He said I owed him the chance to talk, and I thought maybe he was right, maybe out of all the pain I’ve caused I could try to do something right ut I was wrong, yet again. I can’t do anything right these days.”

I cringed at myself in spite of the all the other emotions that were whirling about in my head. I heard the self pity in my words, and I knew I didn’t deserve any pity of any kind. It didn’t matter that Frank said it wasn’t. I felt it in my heart, it seeped in my bones and for once maybe it was time for me to take some kind of responsibility.
“It sounds to me that you’re blaming yourself for the actions of another person. Gerard may be relapsing, but that’s no excuse for assaulting someone. Do you think perhaps you’re blaming yourself to excuse what he did? Sometimes it’s easier to blame ourselves than process traumatic situations and blame people we care about for their actions.”

The words she said made my stomach squirm. I didn’t want to be there, I wanted out. I almost moved, ready to bolt out the door, until I saw Frank out of the corner of my eye. It made me stay still, and I looked at him. Truly looked at him. I couldn’t make out his expression, what he was thinking or what he wanted me to say. I wanted him to give me an answer, comfort, anything.
“Grace, listen to me carefully. You’ve made progress here recently, even if you haven’t always felt it. You’ve made some choices in the past that you’re not happy with, that’s part of being human. That does not mean that others causing us harm is our fault. You’re speculating and taking the words of someone who’s angry with you at face value. It’s time to take a step back and really look at what happened and what lead to it. Sometimes with a bit of perspective, we realise that situations were not always what they seemed.”
The words hit me. I felt a truth in them, one I didn’t want to hear. I wasn’t ready yet.

Notes

Wait, what's this...an update? Lyra isn't dead?

I have no real reason or excuse for not writing. I've had a few interesting years, lots of changes and writing was something I had no time or motivation for. I don't know if my sudden inspiration will hold, but while it's here I hope to be able to update and maybe finish some stories.