E. Blair - Falling

“Please.” She begins to cry again.

“Candace, no. You can’t always run to him. Need me for a change,” I beg. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” I urge. God, just talk to me. Tell me. Get this out of you so that you can start dealing with it.

“No, I can’t. Please. I just can’t,” she strains through her sobs.

“But you can with Jase?” I question in disbelief. I thought we were past this.

“I want you to need me,” I plead, tightening my hold around her. I feel desperate.

“I do.”

“You don’t,” I say. “You cling to him for everything. Look at me,” I demand and then hold her hands, pressing them hard against my chest, and beg, “Cling to me. Love me enough to need me .”

“I can’t . . . I . . .”

“Why?”

“Because . . . you’d leave me.”

“Not happening, babe.”

“Ryan, please.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I assure her. She can tell me this; I know she can, and I need her to. “Nothing you could say would make me want to leave you.”

“I’m just too fucked up.” Her face is covered in tears that I just want to kiss away. I wanna take all of her pain away, but I resist the urge to give in to her. So I keep encouraging, knowing that I’m guiding her to a painful place.

“We’re all fucked up,” I tell her. “I want you to let me in.”

Her body is shuddering as the sobs wrack her. I’m powerless, and it fuckin’ sucks.

“I can’t! You’ll never look at me the same. You’ll run away.”

She says this and I want to cry for her. Take her pain and shove it deep inside of me. I’d take her misery as my own in a second.

Wrapping my hand behind her head, I hold it close to my heart when I vow, “I promise you, nothing will change the way I look at you. Nothing will change what you do to me when you’re next to me. You make my heart beat in a completely different way—nothing will ever change that.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” she cries into my chest as she slips her arms around me, clinging to me like she’s about to fall—maybe she is, but I need her to.

“God, babe.” I’m fighting my own tears so hard. “Please, don’t be.”

I strengthen my hold on her, and when I do, she falters with a whimper when she releases it.

“I was raped.”

Those words. I already knew it. I even saw her body afterwards. But hearing those words. I can’t take the pain and guilt any longer. It’s like a knife to my lungs, and I can barely breathe. I take a hard breath in when the tears slip out and fall.

I’m helpless. I don’t know what to say to her, but I knew that she had to tell me. To stop hiding it away, but what have I done to her? She’s broken in my arms right now, sobbing, and I don’t know what to do to help.

We sit, clinging to one another as we both cry. Time passes and she begins to tire, now softly weeping as I continue rocking her and planting kisses on top of her head.

“I’ve been lying to you,” she mutters quietly.

“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

“I feel horrible.”

“Candace, don’t do this,” I tell her. “You have every right to lie.”

“I can’t go to see you at work because . . .”

“Shhh . . .” I want her to stop because she doesn’t need to apologize for shit. She shouldn’t feel bad for trying to cover this up. I get it. Understand it.

“Because it happened in your parking lot. By the dumpster,” she tells me, and I figure she simply needs to get it off her chest, so I don’t say anything. I just listen as she relieves herself of whatever guilt is weighing on her as she continues. “That’s why I freaked out. I didn’t know where I was until I saw the dumpster.”

Hearing her say this to me is hard. It’s hurts to think about her trying so hard to hide this from me and what that was doing to her. My breath catches, and when a small noise cracks, she pulls back to see my tears falling. Her face scrunches up as she begins to cry again.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, and I’ve had enough of her apologizing for shit that doesn’t matter.

“Don’t ever fuckin’ say that again,” I tell her when I cradle her cheeks in my hand. “Don’t ever be sorry for anything again.”

“I’m just so far from what you thought.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. Every day is a struggle. Everything. I’m scared every day,” she admits as she drops her head from my hands.

I’ve always wanted to know what she was hiding, but I couldn’t have imagined this. And that she lives with this every day. Terrified. The fact that she has held herself together around me so well is shocking.

Candace finally looks back up at me, pained when she tells me, “I’m fading.” I shake my head at her, hardly able to stand the misery in her voice. “He took all my light, and I’ve been fading ever since.”

Giving her nothing but the core of my intentions, I tell her, “You’re not fading. I won’t let you.”

Her words beat at me. In disbelief because she’s brought so much to my life in such a short amount of time. The mere idea that she would see her life in such shambles that she would fear fading ignites a fight in me to do everything I can to pull her out of this darkness. To show her just how bright she is. How amazing and powerful she is. She’s nothing but heart, and I’m going to make sure she sees every bit of it. That there’s no way for her to fade in my eyes.

She tucks her head down and leans into me as I fold her securely in my arms, vowing to myself that I will do everything I can to show this girl how strong she really is.

“That’s why Kimber is mad,” she says as she continues to talk. “I didn’t go home after it happened. I stayed with Jase and never told her why. She knows I’m lying.”

I listen. That’s all she wants from me, so that’s what I give her.

“I’ve been taking sleeping pills, but I stopped last week. That’s why I haven’t been sleeping.” She pauses before revealing, “I dream about that night—about him. All I see are his eyes. He made me watch him.”

A new bout of sobs courses through her, and anger courses through me, but I keep my cool for her. I take myself out of this and focus on her when she adds, “So, I take pills to keep him away.”

“Babe, why did you stop taking them?”

“Because every night when I take them, it’s only a reminder of what happened. I just want to forget, but I can’t.”

“Have you told anyone?” I ask as I brush her hair behind her shoulder.

“No. Only Jase and Mark. Jase was with me in the hospital. Mark only knows because he walked in and saw my face. I was pretty banged up.”

“Your parents?”

“God, no. It was because of them that I went out with that guy at all.”

“You knew him?” I ask, not expecting that she knew the fucker. “But you didn’t do anything?”

“No.”

“I wanna fucking kill him,” I spit out, anger swelling inside of me. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill that piece of shit. My body tenses up, and I do everything I can to bring myself back down—for her. It takes a while, but I begin to focus on Candace and what she needs out of me. I know she’s afraid I’m gonna run, but she’s wrong.

Looking at her straight on, I assure her, “This changes nothing for me. Okay? Nothing. No one will ever love you like I do.” I kiss her. I feel it’s all I can do right now to show her that I’m here and I’m not leaving her. When I do finally drag my lips away, I give her more of me when I say, “You are the only reason there’s light in my life. Before you, there was nothing but darkness.”

As the tears linger on her cheeks, I lean in and kiss them, tasting the salt of her secret that’s been eating her up. But now it’s out there, and she doesn’t have to find ways to hide from me anymore. She trusts me enough to allow me to see the darkest side of her, and I love her for that.