Page 174 of Voices

Goddamn my throat hurts. It feels like I swallowed shards of glass. I gather what little saliva I can and swallow to coat my throat. Moving my fingers back and forth, I try again.

“Sh…ane,” I cough at the dryness. “Shane.”

His long dark eyelashes flutter before his eyes pop open. He doesn’t say anything as he looks at me. He looks almost scared.

“Is this real? Are you really awake?” He squeezes his eyes closed. “I can’t have this dream again,” he whispers.

I tap his cheek. “It’s real.”

Opening his eyes and sitting up, he moves his head to lay on my chest. We look into each other’s eyes as tears soak the side of his face and the blanket.

“I thought I lost you, baby,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” I rasp as tears hit the cannula on my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I could-”

“No, baby. You have no reason to apologize.” He sits up and brings a cup with a straw to my lips. “I shouldn’t have gone to the party.”

I take a few sips of the wonderfully cold water. He sets it back on the table and takes my hand in his.

I clear my throat, looking into his tired eyes. “He was going to get me eventually. There’s no escaping my father once he has a plan for you.”

His eyebrows scrunch. “Your father? I thought it was Conrad.”

Now it’s my turn to be confused. Everything is a little hazy. I remember sitting in my car in front of my townhouse then somehow ended up at my father’s office that’s closest to my parents’ house. I was sitting across from my father’s desk, but I don’t remember what he said then I was driving and the last thing I remember was calling Shane and feeling tired.

“Charlie,” Shane squeezes my hand in both of his, “Conrad he, he raped you and did that,” he points to my casted left arm. I watch his Adam’s apple bob with a thick swallow. “He said it wasn’t the first time. Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He kisses the back of my hand, a tear catching on the IV.

Tears fill my eyes.

But I’m done letting Conrad control this part of me.

Go live the life you deserve.

Blinking back the tears, I clear my throat. “I don’t remember it happening this time but yes, he-he has been r-raping and sexually assaulting me since I was fifteen. He used me whenhis wife didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. When it first happened, he held it over my head that he knew I was gay and that my father would kill me if he found out. He even threatened to hurt Benji and because I looked up to him, I felt like I had to protect him. So much good that did.”

Shane is frozen except for a tear that leaves a wet trail down his stubbled cheek. Looking closer at him I notice the dark circles under his eyes, his disheveled hair, and how wrung out he looks. I lift my good arm, which weighs a lot more than it should, and wipe the tear away.

“No more crying.”

He holds my hand against his cheek as my weak muscles give out.

“I love you Shane and I-I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t promise that my messed-up mind won’t spiral again or that I won’t slip into another depressive episode. But I want to be a better version of myself becauseyoudeserve that, Shane.”

Turning his head, he kisses my palm. His icy blue eyes are sparkling with unshed tears, his wet lashes making them even brighter.

"I love you so much, baby. More than words could ever hold. I promise to love you through every high and low, through every storm this world throws at us. No matter how hard it gets, I’ll never leave your side. I’m yours, always.”

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits me. My eyelids droop, making it harder and harder to keep open.

Shane chuckles as he sets my hand on the bed, still clasped in his. “Get some rest, beautiful. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I try to say I don’t want to, but sleep takes me first.

I slowly stay awake for longer periods of time as the days go by. Walking for the first time was embarrassing. I couldn’t even hold my own weight for more than a few seconds. And then the hospital psychiatrist came, and I had to explain why tried to kill myself. I didn’t give him all the reasons, just enough that he’ll deem me mentally okay to go home.

I’ve been to this rodeo before.

Shane wasn’t too thrilled that I didn’t go into detail, but he understood that a personal therapist would be better for that trauma.

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