Page 76 of Try Hard
And, again, her patience was freeing. “It was… coercion more than anything else. I was never physically forced, but there was so much pressure to do what he wanted. A lot of it was quite subtle and just… messed me up, I guess. So, then, when I finally gave in, my body knew I didn’t want to and just… there was a lot of pain. The pain never went away permanently. I’m sure the medical experience after it started only made things worse.”
“You deserved better than all of that.”
“Thank you,” I said, tears burning in my eyes. I’d known she was the right person to tell, but I hadn’t realised how much I’d needed the experience of telling someone and being validated. How different my whole journey with it could have been if the doctor’s response had been closer to Eve’s, how I wouldn’t have needed to spend time learning all about it to treat myself.
“You deserve the world, Ophelia,” Eve said softly.
I didn’t know about that, but I would forever be grateful at getting a second shot at the world she existed in.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “So, yeah, when all of that was happening, the stubborn part of me kicked in, and I decided I was taking my body back. From both my ex and the doctor—and, in a way, from myself too. I couldn’t decide what happened with the whole… vaginismus thing, but I could own every other part of my body. So I did. And I ended up liking swimming. I took it a little far at one point, but I have a healthier relationship with the whole thing these days. Not the…vaginismus, obviously, but the other stuff. And nobody ever gets to tell me it’s because I’m chubby again.”
“You’re so strong,” Eve said, and she sounded like she meant it. “You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here, still strong and perfect—which, just for the record and the people who apparently need to hear it, you always have been. And I’m so grateful to you for letting me in.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal.”
“It is, and I know that. And I’m here for you.”
I squeezed her tightly, though I wondered if it felt like nothing compared to her. “Guess I’m glad I was stubborn enough to survive it all then.”
“I like that you’re stubborn,” she replied, apparently picking up on the fact that stubbornness was another thing I’d been told was wrong about me.
Was it possible that there was someone who could like all the things about you that other people hated? It felt ridiculous and impossible that, for me, that person could be Eve Archer. But here she was.
I squeezed her tighter again, trying to put all of my feelings into it. “Just foryourrecord, while we’re on it, I meant what I said at brunch. You’ve always been perfect too, and anyone who has ever said otherwise is wrong.”
She laughed, and I was almost certain she pressed a quick kiss to my shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eve
“What’s with the face?” Soph asked when she let herself into Mum’s place and found me lying on the floor, covered in Hercules.
“Rude,” I shot back, working to look less murderous than I felt.
I hadn’t been able to shake the conversation with Ophelia all day, even once I’d dropped her back home. She was so good, so impossibly perfect, and I hated that anyone—let alone multiple people—had taken the gift of her being in their lives as an opportunity to destroy her. Of course, she was fighting back, but the scars they’d left, the things they’d said to her, the damage they’d done—none of that was okay.
I was no stranger to cruel or unsolicited opinions about people’s bodies, but Ophelia contending with someone who was supposed to love her—supposed to worship every inch of her—tearing her down with gross and unwarranted commentary on her body was already bad enough. To then abuse the privilege of her love to force her into things she didn’t want to do… I didn’thave words for how furious I was on her behalf. And that didn’t even begin to cover the doctor who was then supposed to help her, only to hand more weapons of torture to her ex. Disgusting.
But I wasn’t about to tell Soph about that and be yet another person betraying Ophelia. All I wanted in the world was for her to know she was safe with me.
Soph snorted and walked past me to sit on the couch. She moved like she couldn’t care less, but something about the controlled way she collapsed down into the seat and crossed one leg over the other felt less casual than she was going for. And that was when I noticed her outfit was just a little too nice for dinner with Mum and me on a random Wednesday.
“You look nice,” I said, wrestling Herc with me as I moved to sit up. The troublemaker was like a sack of uncooperative bricks.
“Don’t change the subject,” she said with a scowl. “Why are you staring at the ceiling like you want to tear it down?”
“Ugh. No reason.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine. It’s just… righteous indignation on someone else’s behalf.”
“Fia’s?” she asked, immediately lighting up.
“No.”
She frowned, drumming her freshly-painted black nails against her knee. “I don’t believe you.”
