Darkest Fears Trilogy: Fallen For Him / Freed By Him / Forever With Him

by Clair Delaney

  I sob into my hands – This is too heavy, I can’t do this.

  “Coral, I suggested talking with Tristan. I’m going to set that as part of your therapy. Like it or not, I want you to start opening up to him. I’m not asking you to tell him everything, just a little bit at a time. Maybe start with your fears, your fears of him leaving, the fear of self-destructing the relationship. When one is armed with information, it is so much easier to look at it from a solution base rather than a preventative base.”

  “You’re setting me an assignment?” I gasp in anger; my tears come to an abrupt stop.

  “Yes,” he answers firmly.

  “No,” I bite back, shaking my head in disapproval – I can’t do that.

  “Coral, I can only help you so far. And quite frankly, I think you need the push, especially in this direction.”

  “I won’t do it,” I sulk, crossing my arms in defiance.

  “Then you leave me no choice but to halt out sessions for now.” I glare back at him.

  “Well that’s just great,” I snap in exasperation.

  “One step at a time Coral,” he reiterates.

  “Fine,” I snap back. “I’ll try telling him...something,” I blurt, my hand flying in the air.

  “Good, now our agreement.” He says calmly, watching my reaction.

  I close my eyes and squeeze my hand into fists. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.I have no choice now, I have to tell him.

  Swallowing three times, I hear the words come out of my mouth. “I was raped,” I whisper. I hear George gasp, and because I’m worried about his reprimand; I keep my eyes closed.

  “When?” He whispers.

  “Two years ago,” I answer my voice flat. It doesn’t sound like me.

  “But...but that’s how long you’ve been seeing me?” He says disbelievingly.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “That’s why I initially started seeing you, but every time I got close to telling you, I chickened out.” I keep my eyes closed, for some unexplainable reason it’s helping to keep me calm; and stopping me from imploding.

  I hear George stand, seconds later I feel the sofa sag next to me as he sits down, he takes one of my hands in his.“Darling girl,” he softly says, gently squeezing my hand. “You said on Tuesday you made a mistake?” he says bleakly.

  I nod my head and finally open my eyes, then turn and meet George’s shocked expression. “I know I should have told you...before, I’m sorry.” I croak.

  “Being raped isn’t a mistake Coral.” He softly says.

  I sniff loudly and swipe at the silent tears – Fucking tears they’re pissing me off now!

  “It was for me. I was stupid, I never should have…” I cringe as I recall that fateful night.

  “No sweetheart, that’s not how it works. I take it you said no, rejected him in some way?”I nod silently.“Then you didn’t make a mistake, he forced himself on you.” George takes a deep breath in, slowly blows it out and continues. “Did you report it?” He softly asks.

  I close my eyes and silently shake my head, I hear him gasp.

  “Why ever not?” he says in disbelief.

  I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, remembering why.“Because he scared the life out of me George, I thought, well, I was worried that he knew where I lived, and to be quite honest I’ve never seen a pair of eyes with such malicious intent. What happened to me as a kid was bad enough, his eyes were pretty terrifying, but this guy, maybe because I’m an adult now, I don’t know…he told me he’d kill me,” I whimper. “George I was so scared.” I choke back the tears, my hands balling into fists, makes me so fucking angry thinking about it.

  “Give me a moment.” George softly says and leaves the room. A minute later he’s back at my side, I open my eyes and he hands me a large glass of amber liquid. “Courvoisier,” he explains.

  I take a sip and swallow, feeling it warm my insides as it smoothly makes its way down to my stomach. I take another sip, then decide to take a gulp which I know you shouldn’t do with Brandy, but I know George is going to want details, and I think it’s going to help me get it all out; it really burns as it trickles down.

  “Want to tell me about it?” He softly asks.

  “Not really,” I choke, even though I know I should.

  “I understand,” George coos.

  I turn and look at him, he looks really shaken. “Are you ok?” I croak.

  “No,” he answers sternly. “I’m not.”

  “Oh George, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you’ – “I’m not upset with you Coral, I’m upset with myself…” He stares blankly ahead, deep in thought.

  “Don’t,” I whisper. “I’m very good at hiding things George; don’t punish yourself for not seeing this.”

  His eyes dart up to meet mine. “But I should have seen,” he chastises. “I’m a therapist, I’ve dealt with so many women who’ve been raped. I’ve always know, seen it before they’ve admitted it…but with you…” He drifts off again, rubbing his fingers across his forehead.

  “Please George, I don’t think you realise how accomplished I am at keeping my emotions at bay. I always have my game face on, my mask, as I call it. I’m very good at pretending everything is ok, when it’s not. Remember how long it took you to get me talking about my childhood?”

  He slowly nods his head.“It’s like keeping it in my head, doesn’t make it real, saying it out loud does.” Amazingly, I start to smile. “Just like you getting me to admit how I really feel about Tristan, I know things will be different now, so please George, don’t feel bad.” I plead, squeezing his hand back.

  Then I have a moment of clarity. If I tell George what happened, he might be able to help me and the nightmares might stop, and in all honesty I’m tired of being scared about it.

  “I have nightmares about it,” I whisper.

  George squeezes my hand. “I’m sure you do,” he whispers back.

  “Last one was on Tuesday night. When you worked out that I was holding something back, and you said I had to tell you about it. I felt so fearful, so vulnerable that it came to me again, I woke up in such a state; it makes me feel so dirty, and every time I wake up from it I throw up, I don’t know how much more my stomach can take.” I take a deep breathe, then continue.

  “And I cried George, for the first time in twenty-five years, I cried. It felt very cathartic, like you said it’s a release, but I still feel like I shouldn’t cry, that it’s a sign of weakness, but I did, I let it all out.”My eyes fill with unshed tears again. I chuckle at myself. George smiles softly at me and squeezes my hand. He’s so good with me, so patient.

  “It happened about a month before I bought the studio. As you know, Gladys and I had been looking for studios for a while, but nothing was coming up that I really liked. I was feeling really melancholy, the very thought of still being with Gladys when I hit thirty was depressing me, I was feeling so miserable that I was never going to find anything, and I was still hurting about Justin. I had no friends, no social life and to make matter worse, Gladys had gone away for the weekend. One the one hand I loved having the house to myself, but on the other, I was lonely, I felt empty, scared, and vulnerable. So, to try and take my mind of it all I decided to go for a run on the beach. That’s when I met him.” I take a deep breath and try to stay focused.

  “Let me get you another,” he whispers taking my empty glass off me. When he returns, I notice he has one too. Sitting next to me, he smiles weakly at me and hands me the glass.

  “Thanks,” I whisper and take a sip. “So I’m running on the beach and I notice this guy, he’s running too. When I stop to take a breather, he comes over to me and we start talking. We had so much in common, before I knew it an hour had passed and it only felt like five minutes. He told me he was from London and had come down for a long weekend, he said he’d split from his girlfriend, he seemed genuinely cut up about it. I told him about Justin, it felt like we were kindred spirits, you know…” I take a deep breath and another swig of brandy.r />
  “I relished the company, having someone to talk to, someone my own age. Anyway, he asked to see me that night, I was so excited I really thought there was some potential there. I thank god everyday that I decided to meet him in town, he wanted to pick me up at the house, but my instinct was telling me not to do that. I thought that tiny nagging feeling of fear was just my usual self-protectiveness coming through, but I guess I was picking up on the fact that he was dangerous, that I should be careful.” I take another drink.

  “We had a great night, I felt very connected to him on every level, we laughed, we talked non-stop; I was fascinated with him. When the pub closed he asked me to take a walk with him along the promenade, he took my hand in his he couldn’t stop gazing at me. I felt like there was something really big there, he told me he wanted to see me again the following weekend, I agreed and that’s when he kissed me; he was so gentle, it was such a sweet kiss. We didn’t want to leave one another, so I agreed to go to his hotel for more drinks.

  “When the hotel bar closed, he asked me to come up to his room, I told him I wasn’t that kind of girl, but he assured me it was just for another drink. He’s been a perfect gentleman all evening, so I didn’t see any harm in it and I certainly didn’t see any danger. Hand in hand, we walked up to his room chatting the whole time. He opened the door and gestured for me to go first, which I did, but when he closed the door behind me, he turned into a monster.” I drain the last of the brandy.

  “He grabbed me from behind and started groping me, I was shocked, totally stunned. I told him no, and again that I’m not that type of girl, I tried to push him off me, but that just made him more aggressive. I managed half a scream before he covered my mouth with his hand, I tried to fight him off again, but he was too strong. We fell to the floor, I begged him to let me go, he laughed at me, said it was all my fault that I’d led him on. I screamed at him that I hadn’t done that, but that made him more angry. He started swearing at me, calling me a whore, a dick-tease. I couldn’t see how I’d given him that impression, which made me angry so I shouted ‘go fuck yourself’ and that’s when he punched me in the face, right here, see.” I point to the tiny scar that’s across my right eyebrow.

  “He’d knocked me out, so when I came round, I found myself on the bed, my hands were tied to the post and he was striping my jeans of me. I tried to kick him off, but he punched me again, right in the jaw, I could taste blood swimming in my mouth. I was in so much pain, I could hardly see out my right eye and I knew, I just knew what he was going to do, it was inevitable.” I take another deep breath.

  “I thought about trying to buck him off me, but my past reminded me that doing that only makes it more painful, so I went limp and withdrew, just like I used to, and let him have his way with me. He was so rough with me, he was spitting vile, repulsive things at me the whole time, I can still feel…” I close my eyes to try and compose myself, I swallow hard and continue.

  “When I have nightmares about it, it’s the ripping and the pounding into me that I remember, it makes my pelvic muscles go into spasm, he just didn’t stop. It felt like it went on and on, I thought it was never going to end, he threatened to kill me, and in all honesty I wanted him to, I wanted it to be over.” George gasps again and squeezes his eyes shut.

  “I don’t know how long it went on for, but in the end I passed out in pain.”I stare blankly ahead, amazed I managed to get it all out, and I’m surprised at myself, I thought I would be upset, crying even, but I just feel numb; like I’m listening to someone else tell the story, totally void of myself.I turn and stare at George, he looks like he’s going to be sick and he’s so pale.

  “George?” I prompt.

  “That was very brave of you Coral, well done for being honest and telling what me happened. How do you feel now you’ve told me?”

  “Numb,” I answer my voice sounding void of all emotion.

  “That’s understandable,” he says.

  I laugh sarcastically, then out of nowhere, the numbness disappears, and I feel overwhelmed with fear, I feel it shake and rattle my body. I guess reliving it again, saying it out loud…unwelcome and unbidden tears start to cascade down my cheeks.

  “Coral!” George gasps and wraps his arms around me.

  I finally crack, the levees bursting on me, and I crumble into his arms. I wrap my arms around his waist, and sink my head into his chest. He gently rocks me, trying to soothe me with gentle words.

  “You’re safe now,” he whispers. “Nothing can happen to you.”

  I hear his words of comfort, but they make no difference. I cannot stop the tears. I cry long cathartic sobs, soaking his shirt. I take in a ragged breath, trying to calm myself down, and it’s in that moment that I realise a shocking, unwelcome truth.

  I want Tristan; right here, right now. I want his strong arms around me, his scent invading my senses, his lips pressed hard against my forehead, his proximity even; that would be enough.

  I mean, George is wonderful and sweet, and is trying his best to comfort me, but he can’t make me feel safe, he can’t protect me, he can’t…he can’t…finally it hits me, what I’ve been denying to myself; he can’t love me like Tristan can.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out this revelation. I sit up from my slumped position and try to catch my breath.“I’m sorry,” I choke, looking down at George’s shirt; it’s covered in black mascara.

  “No need,” he soothes. “Would you like another?” he asks gesturing to my empty glass.

  I look up at the clock on the wall, my hour is up.“The time George, I don’t want to keep you,” I sniff.

  “Nonsense,” he barks. “Would you like to use the bathroom?”

  “Please,” I croak.

  George helps me to my feet, my legs feel all shaky.“It’s the adrenaline,” he explains. “Let me help you.” George guides me to his downstairs bathroom, once inside he tells me to take my time and shuts the door behind him.

  I grab a load of toilet tissue, and blow my nose several times, throwing the paper into the toilet, I press the flush. In a daze, I turn to the sink so I can wash my face - Jesus, what a mess!

  I have mascara streaks running down my cheeks, my eyes are really swollen, and my nose is bright red – Great!

  I fill the sink with cold water and plunge my face in. It shocks me for a second but I stay under holding my breath, after a minute I pull back up. I stare back at my reflection, water dripping down from all over my face. Surprisingly, I feel better than I thought I would, just saying it out loud feels as though a small weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  I start laughing at myself, my eyes looks like a pandas, and I have black mascara streaks running down each cheek; I look like something out of a horror movie.I notice there’s a hand-wash on the sink so I squirt some onto my hands, and wash away the mascara, refreshing my face again with more cold water, I can’t believe how much better I feel - I shake my head at myself - Should have done this ages ago!

  I dry my face and stare at my reflection, wondering if the tears are going to come back, but surprisingly they don’t. I make myself smile trying to perk myself back up, then chuckle at myself – You idiot!

  Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders and head back to George’s office…

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I WALK BACK INTO GEORGE’S office and sit on the sofa next to him. He smiles softly at me and hands me another Brandy.“Thanks.” I take another sip.

  “I wish you would have told me Coral.” He softly scolds.

  “I know, I was just thinking the same. I actually feel better for telling you.”

  “A problem shared…” George cocks an eyebrow up at me in disapproval, he’s not happy with me.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t something that was easy to say, and I didn’t want to...” I break off.

  “Didn’t want to what?” he asks, his head cocked to the side.

  I take another sip.“Lots of things, I didn’t want you to be mad with me for n
ot telling anyone, or going to the police, or...” I stop for a moment. “I was scared and ashamed,” I whisper.

  “I understand,” he softly says. “But I wouldn’t have been angry with you, at all.” He admonishes.

  My head starts banging, I haven’t had much food today so the alcohol is going straight to my head - I place my glass down and pull the pins and bobble out of my hair, then run my fingers through my scalp to try and ease the tension, letting my hair fall across my shoulders and down my back.

  “Do you remember his name?” George asks.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it was his real name.”

  “How did you get out?” I shudder and take a gulp of brandy.

  “When he finished with me, he fell asleep. I think I kept drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain was…horrendous. The next time I came round I could see it was light outside, I remember him waking up, so I pretended to be asleep. I heard him go into the bathroom, he locked the door and turned the shower on; I knew it was my only opportunity to get out, I had to take it.

  “When I sat up, I realised my hands were free, I don’t remember him untying me, so I grabbed my bag, jeans and t-shirt and fled out of the room, completely naked. I ran to the stairwell, pulled on my jeans and t-shirt and ran home. My feet were so messed up by the time I got back. I don’t know why I didn’t pick up my shoes, I think they were wedges, I guess they wouldn’t have been any good for running in, I just had to get out of there. I was so scared he would catch me leaving,” I clench my fists as I recall running back to the house.

  “I bled for two days George, and I know he didn’t use protection. I was so scared that he’d given me an STD; but he hadn’t thank god.”

  “You got tested?” He questions.

  “Yes, I went to the genitourinary clinic, gave a fake name. Test results came back clear.”

  “What did you tell Gladys, you must have made some excuse up?”

  “Yes I did, and I hated lying to her…but, it was just too hard to say. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, and I think I was still in shock. I told her I’d gone for a run and I got jumped on by some drunken bum. I’d taken myself to hospital before she came back so I had a couple of stitches on my eyebrow, I was pretty messed up.