Dark Secrets (106 page)

I remained breathless,
watching the breeze blow in through my window, a second passing
before my heart beat again.

“
That’s it.” I tore
my earphones out and ditched my iPod across the room, tossing my
pillows and blanket on top so I wouldn’t have to think about it,
then rolled over, shivering in the nakedness of my bed, wishing I’d
at least kept my blanket. But regret only lasted another few sobs
as the exhaustion of healing swept me under the grasp of
sleep.

Morning has a funny
way of turning up when it’s not wanted. The unruly wind from last
night receded with the moon, and the sun cast a scarlet ribbon
across the horizon. Through the reflection of my antique mirror on
the other side of my room, I watched a murder of crows flock in the
open sky. It was early, but there was still so much beauty in the
morning, despite the world’s ignorance to its existence.

I snuggled up under my
blanket, tucking my hand under my pillow, but held my breath,
feeling something small and solid slip between my fingertips. I sat
up and unfolded my hand, my skin going tight with bumps as a silver
chain dangled down, swinging from my heart-shaped locket, the
French inscription face up, bringing tears to my eyes.

He left this. He was
here. I grabbed my blanket in a fist and tucked it to my chin. Why
would he do this to me? Why would he leave this when I gave it back
to him so I could move on?

I sobered myself with
a shaky gulp of air and wiped my cheeks with my sleeve.

Because that was just
it, wasn’t it? Forever. I promised him my forever, and he promised
me eternity. But I
had
to move on. He made me move on, though he would never let me
go. And it occurred to me then, that I’d never let him go either,
and needed to stop
trying
—needed to wear this, keep
David close to my heart, alive in my thoughts, because he was a
part of me, and I felt nothing if I didn’t love him.

Mike would know; he’d
know I missed David, but he’d accept it, because he loved me, too.
I could never move on, not really. I could live for the rest of my
life with Mike, and I could be his wife, but, as the fine
inscription on the back of the locket read, I belonged to him—to
David. I always would.

“
Forever,” I told
myself as I linked the chain around my neck and let it fall against
my collarbones—back where it belonged.

Day turned into night
again, and I listened to the familiar sound of dinner conversation
going on in the dining room, without me. Mike’s booming laughter
flowed up the stairs and poked me in the heart. I wished I could
laugh. I wished I could laugh with Mike. But he seemed to be
avoiding me. I think. Or maybe he was just trying to give me some
space, I wasn’t sure, but he hovered by my door a lot—hardly ever
knocked or came in…just hovered. Unless I needed something. Care
and help, but no companionship. It just wasn’t like him to be so
distant. Before the attack, there were never closed doors between
us, but now it seemed like even the windows were shut—and I was all
alone on the other side.

A screech of
disapproval rose above the loud chatter of my family and Vicki
said, “Greg, you can’t say that. It’s politically
incorrect.”

Dad didn’t respond,
but I pictured him laughing into his fist, his face red, his
shoulders shaking.

“
But it’s true,
Vicki,” Mike said, “It’s rude, yes, but...” I stopped listening. I
didn’t want to hear what they were saying. I didn’t want to be a
part of their conversation—nor did I want to sit here wishing I
was.

I clutched my secret
locket and waited for the arrival of another tear-provoked
sleep.

When the faucet
stopped running and the lights and doors were positioned in their
nightly rest stop, I snuggled down in my bed, closed my eyes, and
imagined David beside me.

“
How are you
feeling?” the apparition asked, smiling at me; I could almost feel
the solidity of his fingers as he trailed them along my
hairline.

“
Better now you’re
here.”

He went to smile, then
looked up to my opening door; I quickly tucked the locket away and
closed my eyes.

Mike stood in the
doorway, waiting to see if I’d wake, as usual, then wandered over
to lock the window I’d already double-checked—twice, drawing my
curtains closed again after. I wanted to look up and see what he
was doing then, since his gaze seemed to have a physical effect on
me, as if my body knew he was staring, but if I let him know I was
awake, he’d stay with me for the night and I’d never get back to my
dreams of David.

“
Oh, Mike—I didn’t
realise you were in here,” my dad whispered into the
darkness.

“
Yeah, I like to
check on her before I go to bed,” Mike said in a deep, husky
whisper.

“
Is she
sleeping?”

“
Yeah.” His solemn,
almost broken tone obviously set my dad’s mind wandering as it did
mine.

“
You okay, son?” Dad
said, and the light filtering in from the hall
disappeared.

“
I’m worried about
her, Greg.”

I opened one eye to
see my dad lean against my dresser. “Me too,” he said. “I don’t
think she’s okay, you know. She plays it tough—” Dad looked right
at me; I closed my eye again. “But I never even see her cry. Not
once. Surely something like this has got to leave a girl
feeling
something
?”

“
She cries,” Mike
stated, his tone empty. “I know you don’t see it, but that’s
because she wants everyone to think she’s okay.”

“
You’ve
seen
her cry?”

I opened my eyes a
little; Mike shook his head. “But I hear her. At night, when she
thinks everyone’s asleep.” Mike looked at Dad. “A few times I’ve
come to her door, trying to decide if I should come in, but she
smiles and plays it cool when I catch her.” There was a pause. “She
won’t talk to me, Greg, but she
needs
to talk to someone before she
buries this grief too deep and we lose her.”

“
Maybe she’ll talk to
Emily?” Dad suggested.

No, I
won’t.

“
I doubt it,” Mike
said, then sighed heavily, rubbing his face with both hands. “I
don’t know. I guess we just need to give her more time.”

“
I don’t know. I
think we’re past that point, Mike. Vicki’s worried.” Dad combed the
front of his hair with arched fingers. “She thinks we might need to
get her some professional help.”

“
Don’t do that,” Mike
warned. “She’ll shut down if you do that. I’ll try talking to her
tomorrow.”

I rolled onto my back
and groaned, deliberately, to get them and their gossip out of my
room.

“
Okay.” Dad clapped
Mike on the shoulder.

“
But, don’t worry,”
Mike said, looking at me again. “She is still capable of
feeling.”

“
I hope so,” Dad
said. “Otherwise...”

I tensed, Dad’s pause
lasting a little too long.
Otherwise
what?

“
I know,” Mike said.
“But she’s alive, Greg.”

“
I’m starting to
wonder if that’s all that counts.”

It’s not,
Dad
, I thought. I wished I
had
died. There was a
point in the darkness when I wanted to come back, but not to this.
Not to the nightmares I had for the way Jason touched me, the
emptiness I felt for the way David left me, and the grief that hit
me when I’d stand naked in the shower—feeling the exposure of my
skin to the air—knowing I was safe, but feeling so scared and so
bare. No one warned me that being awake again would be worse. No
one told me I’d have bad dreams—falling, over and over again, from
that tree, waking up just before I hit the ground.

Life wasn’t all that
mattered, and I learned that, unfortunately, a little too
late.

The light from their
world intruded on my David fantasy time for a while longer. Dad had
left the door open when he walked away, but I could feel Mike
lingering at my bedside; he leaned down and stroked my hair, his
worries expelling with his breath, and ran his thumb down my
neck—the one place he wasn’t supposed to touch me
anymore.

I curled my fingers
into a tight fist, on the cusp of losing my battle for alone time
by shoving his hand away, when everything around us seemed to
stop.

“
Where did this come
from?” he whispered to himself, lifting the silver chain from under
my shirt. “Oh, Ara—” he sighed my name out, his warm, heavy breath
brushing across my nose and lips. But, he placed the locket gently
back down on my chest, instead of ripping it away, like he probably
should have, and kissed my head, closing the bedroom door behind
him.

The sunlight outside
reflected off the icy roads and shone through the window with its
early morning glow. It felt like years since I’d seen the sun,
since I’d looked up at the blue sky and found the
summer.

I wondered now if I’d
ever love the summer again.

“
Hi, gorgeous.” Mike
glided into my room with breakfast. “You hungry?”

I shook my
head.

“
Okay.” He lowered
the plate of toast, his smile dropping with it. “I’ll take it back
down.”

“
Thanks, Mike. But…”
I sat up a little. “Don’t tell Vicki. She’s worried I’m not getting
enough nutrients.”

“
Right.” He paused,
chewing the inside of his lip as he studied my half-dried tears.
“Ara?”

“
Mm?”

“
No more, baby.” He
squatted beside me, placing the plate on the ground. “You gotta
talk to me.”

“
I do talk to you.” I
folded my arms.

“
No, you don't. You
haven’t even been able to look at me. You flinch when—” he dropped
his hand away from my face as I recoiled, “—when I touch
you.”

“
Well, what do you
expect, Mike?”

“
I
get it. I do. But I don’t understand why you’re pushing
me
away. I’d never hurt
you, Ara.”

“
That’s not what I’m
afraid of,” I said with a hint of detest.

“
Well—” He dropped
back on his heels a little. “What is it then?”

I stared at him
through a film of tears, and as the words of truth rose to the
surface, at the same time the tears spilled onto my cheeks, I spat
them out, “I’m just so ashamed. I never wanted you to find me that
way.”

“
What way? Ara, how do you
think
I found you?

“
He—he,” I stammered.
“He said he was going to make sure that when you found me, you
wouldn’t sleep for fifty years.”

Mike’s eyes widened;
his hands shot out so fast that I squealed and ducked my head, but
he sat on my bed and held me to his chest anyway, stroking my hair.
“You never told me that. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“
I
didn’t want
anyone
to know.”

“
Well, did you tell
the cops that?”

I shook my head. “I
haven’t told anyone—anything. I only told them the
basics.”

“
Then, you remember
more than you say?” His tone was soft, not angry like I
expected.

“
Mm-hm.”

“
Oh, baby. Why? Why
would you do that? How can they catch this guy if they don’t know
the full story?”

“
They’ll never catch
him.” That much I was sure of.

Mike ignored that
comment and took a deep breath. “Do you want to know what I saw
when I found you—can you cope with this yet?”

“
I need to know,
Mike. It’s been eating me up.”

“
Oh, Ara. You
should’ve talked to me about this before now. I could’ve helped
you.”

“
I thought you
wouldn’t wanna talk about it.”

“
That’s just silly,
baby.” Mike laid me back down on the pillow and his hand fell
gently into the curve of my neck as he studied me, swiping his
thumb over my cheekbone.

“
Mike?” I grabbed his
wrist and pushed it down. “Please don't touch my neck.”

“
Right, sorry, I
forgot.” But his eyes stayed there for a moment, not on the jagged,
silvery bite shape, but on the place the attacker’s grip left a
mental scar. “You were covered when I found you.”

I looked up quickly
into his soulful, caramel gaze. “I was?”

He nodded, half
smiling. “Your hair was laying over your…over your chest, like it’d
been positioned that way. No one saw anything, and I had you
covered with my jacket before anyone else came.”

Tears of relief
overflowed and swerved down my cheeks. Mike started to wipe them
away, but gave up in vain when they kept flowing.

“
You’re so silly,
Ara. All this time, you thought I found you—exposed.”

“
I did.” I wiped my
nose. “I thought—I mean, I didn't know what he did to me after
I—when it all went black. I didn't know if maybe he’d done…worse,
or—”