A Broken Kind of Life (26 page)

“Was it a good dream?” she asked, and Aaron’s hand ached to sit, even for just a moment, on top of hers, but he didn’t allow himself to move. His head had started to ache from the stress, and his throat, bone dry at the idea of saying it out loud, rasped as he answered.

“I don’t… I don’t know…. It just…. It feels so wrong to think about… about kissing someone. I can’t… not after….” Aaron’s face flushed further, and he was sure she could see it glow. If she did, she gave no indication.

“There isn’t anything wrong with kissing someone, sweetheart. It scares me sometimes that because of what’s happened, you wouldn’t meet someone who made you look past the attack. I couldn’t stand that, because you are so special, you deserve to find a person who loves you like I love your father.” She hesitated, no doubt trying to decide what, if any, questions she could ask without closing the window on a really good chance to talk to her son. “Honey, have you ever kissed anyone?”

Aaron shook his head, and even in the dim light, he saw her nod.

“Does this person have a name?”

The blinding fear returned in an instant. It didn’t even immediately register that she didn’t say “Does this girl have a name?”

“I…,” Aaron started, the lie forming on his lips, but he found he just couldn’t do it. For so long, his mother had loved him despite his scars and sacrificed her time and sanity to care for him. She deserved better than to be lied to. “It… it was Spencer, Mom.”

“Your friend from school?” she asked with a neutral expression.

He couldn’t tell if the idea that he’d dreamt about kissing a guy surprised her or not. Maybe she figured, with the attack, he’d have to be gay.

“Yes, my friend from school,” he whispered as his nerve failed. The words “I’m gay” wouldn’t form in his throat so he could articulate them. With everything else he’d put her through, he couldn’t say them aloud.

“Aaron, look at me.” His mother’s voice was soft and reassuring, so he did as she asked and noticed the small upturn of her mouth. It was hard holding her gaze while he had this conversation with her. It felt like they were shining a huge spotlight on everything wrong with him, and he’d been in the dark for so very long. She took a slow, deep breath before continuing. “I’m your mom. Did you really think I didn’t know, honey? Even if I hadn’t had years to come to terms with it…. Aaron, I almost lost you, my beautiful boy. I don’t love you any less because you’re gay. Neither will your father or your brothers. We thank God every single day that you’re still in our lives, baby. That’s just not something we would get upset over.”

For the first time in two very long years, Aaron Downing began to cry.

“I thought they picked me because I was gay. If I’d been straight, Juliette would be alive, and you wouldn’t have to take care of me like I was some kind of huge baby. And… and it was just one more thing for you to have to deal with on top of everything else. I hated it. I thought it was so stupid because I’d never meet anyone who would look past the scars and the spastic freak-outs, so what difference did it make? I don’t know why Spencer is different, Mom. I don’t even know if he’s gay,” he managed through heaving sobs. Tears ran down his frightened face in the darkness.

“Oh, honey, they picked you because you were there. Your father and brothers have lived with you all of your life, and I’m sure they don’t have any idea. Those… those men could not have known that you were gay. It was never your fault. Ever.” She rubbed her hands on her knees, and it looked like it took every bit of willpower she had not to reach for him. “But as for your dream, have you talked to Spencer at all about being gay?”

“No. I mean, even if he is, why would he want me? I’m broken, Mom. I’m about as screwed up as you can get. He’s such a—” He cut himself off, not willing to reveal every part of his heart, not yet. “He deserves someone whole.”

“Two years ago, we never would have been having this conversation. You weren’t rational enough to deal with it. I’d have given you a tranquilizer, waited until you were doped up enough, and kissed your forehead before going back to my room for a sleepless night, scared to death for you. I know that you feel messed up, but, Aaron, you really are healing more every day. The progress you’ve made just since you’ve met Spencer is astonishing. I think his friendship is really good for you, but I think if he is gay, that you should take anything else between you very slowly. We can try another doctor if you think you’re ready to talk to someone,” she hedged.

Aaron still couldn’t bring himself to tell her about Spencer’s father. He knew she was right, and the time he spent with Dr. Thomas helped him. It felt like telling her, like sharing his secret, would ruin it. Becoming Dr. Thomas’s patient was the first adult decision Aaron had ever made, and he wanted to hold onto it just a little longer, maybe until he had something substantial to share.

“I started a kind of journal,” he replied, trying to give her something without revealing the whole truth. “It’s helping me to sort out some of my feelings.” The blanket caught every bit of his interest as he avoided her eyes.

“That’s a good way to work things out,” she replied just as a yawn escaped. “I’m glad we got to talk tonight. It’s been a long time since we’ve sat and talked.” Reaching to pat Aaron on the shoulder, his mother drew back when she saw him flinch.

“Are you going to tell Dad what we talked about?” The underlying question screamed through the subtle wording.
Are you going to tell him I’m gay? Is he going to think everything is my fault? Will he hate me? Will he send me away?

“I’m going to tell him that we talked and you’re starting to cope better. Do you want me to tell him that you’re gay?” Her voice was soft and understanding, like his answer would be okay no matter what it was. Aaron nodded, unable to voice the words. “I can do that. Anthony is a little young yet, but I think you should tell Allen. You two used to be so close. I want to see you have that kind of relationship again.”

“I will, Mom… later,” Aaron reluctantly agreed. “I think I’m going to try and sleep some more before I have to go to class. It’s easier to deal with when I’m not tired.” With a long, deep yawn, Aaron crawled back under his blankets. His mother pulled them up for him, careful not to touch him as she let go.

“I love you, Aaron,” she said quietly as she stood.

He looked up and caught her gaze.

“I love you too, Mom.”

A
ARON
hated it when Spencer looked down. Usually it was accompanied by a look of consternation or shame on his face. It made his heart hurt. Other people might have stomped on the floor, trying to get Spencer’s attention as one might do with a dog, but he couldn’t. Some force, some overwhelming need compelled him to touch Spencer’s face. When he did, Spencer looked up and he smiled. Very slowly, as if gauging Aaron’s reaction, Spencer leaned toward him, and he felt Spencer’s warm, soft lips touch his in his very first kiss.

The panic he expected to well in him at the intimate contact never came. The only thing he felt in that moment was fire. Spencer’s kiss was like an inferno, engulfing and burning off his fear, leaving only a residual heat. Tentatively, wary of his own ingrained reactions, he put his hands on Spencer’s shoulders and was shocked by his reckless need. Spencer’s fingers snaked up the back of Aaron’s shirt, stroking his bare skin, and Spencer’s lips moved to his neck. He let his head fall back. Not feeling the tight pulling of skin from his scars, he finally realized it was a dream. The weight of this crushing disappointment took him by surprise. He would have thought that, even in a dream, the reprieve from his damaged skin would have been a cause for joy, but it meant he wasn’t really with Spencer.

Leaning into the kiss, knowing he was safe in this dream with Spencer, Aaron took this one unique opportunity to play out all his conscious and even repressed fantasies. Barely sixteen when his life changed, he had only just started to come to terms with being gay. He’d never had any kind of relationship with anyone, much less kissed or touched another boy. He’d fantasized about it, almost constantly, just as any other boy his age would have, but that horrifying night even took those fantasies from him. Whenever he thought about another boy after that, all Aaron could think about was pain and shame.

Aaron could almost feel Spencer’s soft, gentle lips opening and closing in a soundless rhythm as he left tender kisses across his chest. Looking down, he saw the unruly mop of light-brown curls contrasting beautifully with his own pale skin, which, to his heart-wrenching delight, was smooth rather than scarred. Aaron’s back arched, begging silently for his touch. In the dream, he could be the man Spencer deserved, unbroken and beautiful, the man he would have been. Spencer’s warm, sensuous mouth closed over Aaron’s nipple, licking, sucking, and in that moment he was filled with a desperate craving for Spencer’s affection, and he felt the low, ragged moan that was forced from him.

Aaron’s fingers entwined in Spencer’s hair as his lips moved lower, causing the muscles in Aaron’s abdomen to tighten under his attention. Pulling Spencer up on top of him, he found they were both naked.

He woke up sweating.

“A
ARON
,
you seem a little distracted, a little edgy today. Is there something you want to talk about? Did something happen?”

Aaron squirmed in the chair, uncomfortable remembering the dream in front of Spencer’s father and incredibly glad Spencer was studying for a midterm in the other room.

Dr. Thomas pressed gently. “I want to help you. In order to do that, you need to be able to confide in me. I won’t push. That’s not my way. Pushing you to talk about something that you don’t want to disclose will only lead to resentment and distance between us, and that isn’t helpful.”

“I… I had a dream last night. It was… disconcerting,” Aaron blurted.

“Was it about the attack?”

Aaron shook his head and looked down at his knees. “It was… sexual.”

“Aaron, that isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I hadn’t planned to start that aspect of our talks until you felt more comfortable with me, but I don’t want for this to upset you.” He looked thoughtfully at Aaron for a moment, as if contemplating his next question carefully.

“Aaron, I know this is a very personal question, but it’s something that I need to know in order to help you.”

“I’ll tell you if I can,” Aaron offered.

“Have you had any kind of fantasies about sex since you were attacked?”

Aaron shook his head quickly.

“Was this the first dream you’ve had like that?” Dr. Thomas asked, his voice very gentle.

“No, I’ve had one other, but it was just… just a kiss.”

“It’s not uncommon for people who have been assaulted, especially with such violence, to disconnect from sex, even to be scared to think about it because they think that it means they wanted the assault to occur. I’m not going to try to invalidate those fears, because they are very real to you.”

Aaron looked up then, surprised. Other shrinks had kept telling him there was no reason to be afraid; it was all over now. Not one of them told him it was okay to feel what he was feeling, that it was okay to be afraid.

“I’m going to ask you a few more questions to get a better background, a better understanding.”

“Okay.”

“Was the dream about someone you know?”

Aaron flushed scarlet from his hairline, down his neck. With his normally pale complexion, he felt almost like his face was glowing. He had no idea how to explain to his doctor that he’d had sexual dreams about his son.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Someone you’re close to?”

He nodded.

“Now, again this question is foundational. There are no right or wrong answers, no judgments. Anything that you tell me in these sessions is strictly confidential unless I feel that you are in danger.”

Oh God, he already knows, Aaron thought.

“Was it a man or a woman that you dreamed about?”

At that, Aaron stood and walked over to the window.

“A guy,” Aaron said flatly, not turning back. He liked the Thomas family’s huge rolling lawns and the flowers that even now were still visible, intermingled with the other landscaping. It was calm and peaceful here, not like his house where the neighbors were just a few feet away and his brothers were everywhere.

“Were you attracted to the man in your dream?”

“Yes.”

“Are you attracted to men in general?”

Aaron couldn’t stop the helpless tears that formed in his eyes. Talking quietly to the trees outside rather than to the shrink who sat waiting for his answer, he said, “I figured it out about a year before the attack.” He noticed that neither he nor Dr. Thomas ever called a spade a spade and used the term “rape.” It was always “the attack” or “the assault.” “That’s why they picked me; somehow they knew. Maybe it was the way I walked, or some other mannerism they considered effeminate. Because I’m gay, Juliette lost her life.”

“I don’t think that’s true, actually,” Dr. Thomas said quietly, and Aaron turned around from the window.

“What do you mean?” he asked, moving toward the chair in front of the man.

“I have done a lot of research, read hundreds of case studies about violent rapes, because helping to treat the survivors of these kinds of attacks is what I specialize in. Statistically, an overwhelming majority of gang rapes on a male and female victim are on couples. I’m almost positive that you and your friend were targeted because that group of men thought that you were a couple. Rape isn’t really about sex; it’s about power and humiliation. Assaulting you in front of a girl that they thought was your girlfriend, and hurting her in front of you when you were powerless to stop them, gave them a sense of power.”

Stunned, Aaron sat back down and thought about Dr. Thomas’s explanation. For well over two years, he had assumed they had been targeted because of his sexual orientation. Could it be possible he was wrong?

“As for you having a sexual dream about another guy, particularly one you are close to, there isn’t anything wrong with that. In fact, I would take that as a positive sign. What did you do when you woke up?”