Page 71 of Naive in Love

“What is the last thing you remember clearly?” His voice sounds timid.

What is the last thing I remember? I am still putting together the timeline; everything feels fuzzy. Club, check. Restaurant and Wes telling me Caleb was home, check. Showing up at Caleb’s apartment, check. The sight, check. A feeling of stupidity creeps over me. And then another house party, although the memories are vague.

“I went to some party, I think. That’s the last thing I remember.” I cringe, worried he will ask why I was at that party.

“Whose apartment was it?” His question seems careful and controlled.

I shrug my shoulders and shake my head.

“Then why were you there?”

And there is the question—the one that brings up the horrific experience of the previous night. He watches me closely, patiently waiting for an answer. I take another small bite of my bagel to buy a little time.

“Because,” I start but stop, unsure if I can say it without breaking down. “I saw something I didn’t want or expect to see,” I explain vaguely.

He continues, waiting for me to elaborate, and when I refuse, he asks, “What didn’t you want to see?”

I shake my head at him. I can’t explain. Especially not to him.

“I want to hear it directly from you. Not what I think happened by listening to you scream at the world.”

I drop my head on my arms, which are crossed in front of me on the table. My breaths come in short gasps, panic beginning to set in. I hear Ethan get up, and I am lifted from my chair. He walks over to the couch and sits down, pulling me into his lap and holding me tight in his arms. He shushes me and whispers that things will be okay. The irony of me feeling safe and complete with him is not lost on me.

I am not sure how much time passes, but I decide it is time. He is not leaving without an explanation, and I am the only one that can even partially explain and then get some answers to my questions. I move away from him, pulling my knees to my chest as a shield. He turns his body to face me.

“I went to Caleb’s unannounced last night and walked in on him and his neighbor, Emily having sex.” I drop my forehead onto my knees, wanting to hide my embarrassment. I continue my story from there. “He jumped out of bed and apologized. He started yelling at Emily to leave, and she wouldn’t. When he finally let me go, I ran.”

“What do you mean, he let you go?” he asks softly, but I can hear his frustration.

“He was holding me.”

“Where?”

“Where what?” I’m not following him.

“Where the hell was he holding you?” His anger is growing, and I begin to worry it’s going to be directed at me.

“My arms,” I answer, fear setting in.

“Take off your hoodie, baby.” His voice is controlled and caring, but still dark. When I look up at him, but I don’t make a movement, he pleads with me.

I grab the bottom hem of the hoodie and slip it off. His hand brushes my upper left arm. That’s when I notice a bruise, which was not there yesterday. I remember it hurting when Caleb was holding me, especially when I tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“He did this to you?”

“I…uh…I’m… uh…not sure. I don’t remember having it yesterday.” He continues to gently rub his hand up and down my arm and stare at it, his face sullen. He stops, grabs my hoodie, and begins to help me put it back on.

“Continue. You ran out.” He prompts me back to where I’d left off.

“Some friends had dropped me off at his place, so I had no way of getting home. When I ran out of his apartment, I just walked around until some guy…Bradley, I think, asked if I wanted to come into the party I was walking past. And that’s when everything gets fuzzy. Now your turn.” I brace myself for more humiliation.

He gets up from the couch, walking to the kitchenette and picking up his coffee and my Gatorade. He comes back and sits down exactly like he was before.

“I was out, and I got a text from Lena. I ignored it. I got a couple of more and continued to ignore them.” I am beginning to feel like it is about time I hide under a rock for the foreseeable future. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. Lena forced him. Shit! I am not in the mood to hear any more.

“Then my phone started blowing up with texts from Preston, so I checked the messages. Every one of the messages from him and Lena just read ‘call me ASAP.’ I called Preston back. He told me that you were in trouble and I needed to pick you up. When I asked him why, he just said that I better leave NOW and pick you up. He told me the apartment complex and number. I was supposed to call him when I had you.” Now the level of humiliation has reached new heights. Even Preston knows something happened. How did Lena know? Any new information I hear will probably just make me even more mortified. I should just stop him and live in ignorant bliss. But how blissful will I actually be if my friends know what happened and I don’t? I continue to listen.

“When I got to the apartment, I knocked on the door and asked for you. The guy who answered didn’t know who I was talking about. I asked if I could come in and look for you. Fortunately, he was baked and let me right in. The whole place reeked of weed. And there you were, almost passed out on the couch. I am incredibly pissed at you right now for being there, but it’s shelved for now. Just know wewillhave this conversation later,” he says sternly, but with gentleness.

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