Jane Lark - I Need You

I looked at her, my grip tightening on the beer bottle. We’d been avoiding serious subjects, dancing around them, but I was taking my lead from her. If she wanted to talk serious things that was okay. I lifted an eyebrow at her.

“You thought I’d taken an overdose again or done something else when I was in the shower.”

I let go of my beer, reached over and embraced her small hand, that lay on the table.

Her blue eyes looked into mine.

“I’m not going to do it again, Billy. It was a mistake. A moment of weakness. I hurt people. I am not going to hurt them again. You don’t need to worry. I’m just sorry you got mixed up in it. Sorry I scared you.”

“You already said sorry…” My fingers squeezed hers as my guilt punched at me rather than poked. It was me who needed to apologize. “Lind…” This was touching an untouchable subject, but I couldn’t spend two weeks with her and not say it. “I…” God I needed to get a pair of balls. “What happened in the fall––”

Her hand pulled free from mine and she leaned back in her chair, taking her drink with her, her big eyes staring at me.

I took a breath. “It’s me who owes you an apology. I know you didn’t want it to happen.” Her forehead screwed up. She didn’t want to talk about it, but we had to. “All you wanted was someone to hold you and I took it too far.”

Dual tears rolled down her cheeks and she sipped her drink, her gaze dropping to the table. She shut her eyes, like she could just make me disappear and not listen.

But I carried on. I had to say this. I needed to get it out. “I’m sorry. I feel like… I forced you into it.”

Her eyes opened and she leaned forward, setting her drink down. “Do we have to talk about this?” She still wasn’t looking at me.

“Yeah. I’m living with it and I can’t stand it. I want to put things straight. I’m sorry. Now I’ve thought about it, I feel like I raped you.”

She glanced up at me, pain in her eyes. Now I couldn’t look at her. My head dropped and I sipped my beer, shame slashing a knife at my chest.

I’d had a drink that night, we both had. Jason had gone to New York a couple of months before. She’d gone out with me, to talk, and we’d been talking but I drove her out to the lake and parked up, to keep talking before I took her home. She’d got upset and turned to hug me, her arms hanging around my neck.

She’d wanted comfort, that’s all, but I’d had a drink and I’d read it wrong, and my form of comfort had been to kiss her.

She’d answered it, she’d been in a mess over Jason, she’d been hurting, she’d needed someone, and she’d accepted me.

She’d had on a short loose skirt and my hand had roamed where it shouldn’t have gone, sliding up her thigh, then I’d I gripped her shoulders and tipped her backwards so we were both lying down… I’d taken it way too far. She hadn’t stopped me. I wish she had stopped me. She just hadn’t said anything, and let me do it.

With my beer-fogged head, I’d carried on…

The look in her eyes had haunted me for all the months we hadn’t been talking. She’d stared at me, just lying there, waiting for me to finish.

I’d been an ass. She hadn’t said no, but she hadn’t said yes either.

When we’d finished, or when I had finished––she hadn’t taken any part in it. She’d sat up, with tears running down her cheeks. When I drove her home, she’d cried all the way back into town. Then she’d jumped out the SUV as fast as she could, and run into her house.

When I’d seen her the next time, neither of us had acknowledged what happened. We had never spoken about it. Not that night and not since. We’d just carried on pretending it hadn’t happened.

But it had happened.

The only time it had been mentioned was when Jason threw it at her that he knew. Apparently she’d talked to his cousin about it, and his cousin had told Rachel. Ever since then I’d been wondering what she’d told his cousin. The more I’d thought about that night, since then, the guiltier I’d got. Why hadn’t she said no? She hadn’t enjoyed it; she hadn’t wanted to do it…

“You didn’t,” Lindy whispered.

I looked up.

The onyx centers at the heart of her blue eyes were huge. She shook her head, disgust gripping her expression.

I didn’t blame her. I was disgusted with myself. But I was facing up to this. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “I am sorry, and I told Jason the other night that it was all me. You weren’t unfaithful to him, you were just looking for someone to hold you and I took it too far…”

More tears rolled onto her cheeks as her gaze fell. She wiped them away as her eyes shut. But then they opened and her head came up, anger burned there, accusing me. “Why the hell did you tell him? It’s none of his business! Why did you talk about it?”

“I…” Because that was what I thought you’d want––for Jason to know the truth.

“You shouldn’t have said anything to him!”

She stood up, drank the last of her cocktail and thrust the empty glass down on the table, then turned away. “I’m going down to the beach.”

Shit.

I left my beer and headed inside to settle the check so I could follow.

Lindy

I sat on the dry sand, hugging my knees, looking out at the ocean. The sky was painted red by the setting sun.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. What was worse, that he thought doing it with me was like rape? Or that he’d actually told my ex that?

Humiliation swept through me like a rippling wave and nausea gripped at my belly.

Oh my God, Billy! I hate you right now!

Sand kicked up against my thigh.

He’d followed. He dropped down next to me, copying my posture, leaning forward and gripping his knees.

I wiped the tears off my cheeks.

His big arm came around me.

I turned into him and then both his arms were around me. This was where it had begun in the fall.

He’d held me, then I’d lifted my head and he’d kissed me. I hadn’t really kissed him back but I hadn’t stopped him. I’d felt so broken, I hadn’t cared, and he’d made me feel wanted. When I’d felt unwanted and lonely for weeks.

Frick, if I’d been lonely then, what about now? Jason hadn’t just moved away, he’d dumped me… He had left me alone.

“I’m sorry, Lind.”

No, I wasn’t alone. I had Billy… and Dad…

My counselor told me––when you think negative, change it to positive… There were hardly any positives…

I pulled free of Billy’s hold and turned, looking at the ocean and hugging my knees.

One of his hands fell to the sand. He picked some up, then let it run through his fingers, like an hour glass––a life glass––time just ran away.

His other arm settled on his bent-up knees.

He hadn’t raped me. I had let it happen and regretted it after, and never spoken about it with him. “It wasn’t rape, Billy.”

How did I tell a guy all the mixed-up shit I had in my head. I didn’t understand anything myself, so how could I expect anyone else to. Jason hadn’t.

Billy watched the last of the sand slip through his fingers, then he looked at me.

“I didn’t stop you, because I wanted it too…” At the time, it had been comforting, in a stupid way.

“But not with me, Lind, admit it. I was just a Jason-replacement.”

That part was true. “Is that what you told him?”

“Yeah, because I didn’t want him to keep thinking you’d betrayed him.”

Bitterness thrust a knife into my belly. “Or keep thinking you had , ‘cause you wanted to make up and get your best friend back…”