Page 13 of The Engagement
When Lizzie jumps in her lap, turns in a circle a few times, then curls up, Erin focuses on the much-needed distraction, scratching the cat’s neck and stroking her fur. She’s trying to act like everything’s fine, but I know it’s not. Hotels, bars, alcohol—they’re all triggers for her. And a woman alone in a hotel bar and a stranger plying her with alcohol is the worst possible combination. It’s her nightmare scenario all over again.
I could kick myself for not insisting on a different movie.
The Narnia movie starts, and we watch it in dead silence. Erin doesn’t say anything. She’s not her usual chipper self. In fact, she shows no emotion at all. She’s completely shut down.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask her. “Or something to eat? How about ice cream?” The girl loves ice cream. Anything to get her talking. To get her mind off what she saw earlier tonight.
Erin shakes her head. “No, thank you.” Her voice is listless, like she’s on autopilot. “It’s late. I think I’ll get ready for bed.”
“Yeah, me too. That sounds good.”
I go with her down the hall. After we get ready for bed, we slip beneath the covers. Lizzie joins us, purring loudly as she settles at Erin’s feet.
“You’re awfully quiet,” I say as we’re lying in the dark, both of us on our backs, staring at the ceiling. The tension is suffocating. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sometimes talking about triggers helps her process them.
“It was just a movie, Mack,” she says dismissively. “It’s not a big deal.”
But it is, and the fact that she’s trying to play it down only proves it.
I notice she’s fidgeting with her engagement ring, maybe to keep her mind off what she saw tonight.
I roll onto my side to face her. She’s still staring at the ceiling, far too quiet. Disconnected. Not like herself at all. I cup her face and lean in to press my lips to her cheek. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you. I’m here if you decide you want to talk about it.”
Please talk to me, Erin. Please tell me what you’re feeling.
“I love you, too,” she says, and then she rolls onto her side facing away from me.
It takes her a long time to fall asleep, and when she finally does doze off, I’m still wide awake. That scene in the movie has me reliving that awful night again, over and over.
I wasn’t there with her at the hotel bar that night, so I don’t know exactly what went on. I only know that Erin went out that night with her roommates for drinks on New Year’s Eve. Erin had invited me to come, and I said no.
I fucking said no!
I said no because I believed she was too young for me. Because I didn’t want to encourage her. Because I knew she had a crush on me, and while I returned her interest, I didn’t think it was appropriate for us to date because of the age difference. She’s not that much older than my daughter.
So I said no.
And because I said no, I wasn’t there that night. I didn’t keep her safe. I didn’t protect her from a sexual predator who set his sights on her.
While the monster was plying her with alcohol, her asshole roommates ended up leaving her there, alone and unprotected. The fucker drugged her with Rohypnol and took her upstairs to his room, where he sexually assaulted her.
When she didn’t show up for work the next morning, sirens started going off in my head. I knew something was wrong.I’mthe one who found her body, lying broken and bleeding on the bed, discarded like a piece of trash. At first, I wasn’t even sure she was alive.
And now that image is stuck in my head, and I can’t shake it loose.
My heart is hammering, my chest tightening, and no matter how hard I squeeze my eyes shut, I can’t stop seeing her lying on that bed looking like a broken doll.
I slip my arm loosely around her waist. This is how we always sleep, spooning, but right now I desperately need a reminder that she’s here, she’s safe, and she’s whole. Or, she’s mostly whole. There are cracks in her psyche, and probably there always will be. She still relives that awful night in her nightmares, even after two years of therapy and recovery.
She’s okay.
She’s safe.
I tell myself that over and over until sleep finally drags me under.
* * *
Something wakes me in the middle of the night, and it takes me a second to get my bearings. Erin’s having a nightmare, no doubt triggered by the movie we saw tonight. She’s struggling in her sleep. She’s flailing, fighting something that’s not there. Shekicks so hard Lizzie jumps off the bed and runs into the closet to hide.
