by Gina Azzi
The entire ride to her townhouse I keep my palm on her knee, as if by touching her, I can keep her with me.
"You sure you don't mind driving me? You'll just have to take me back tomorrow to get my car?" she asks for the third time.
"Just means I get to see you first thing tomorrow." I look over at her. "Besides, you look like you'd fall asleep at the wheel."
She punches me in the shoulder and relief settles in my chest. We can do this, Evie and me. We can make this work.
Pulling into the complex of her townhouse, I park in front of her place and turn off the ignition.
Evie turns and raises her eyebrows at me.
"What? You think I'm not going to walk my girl inside."
She rolls her eyes and folds her hands together, placing them neatly in her lap. "Then I'll sit here and wait while you also get my door."
"That's a given, baby." I hop out of the SUV and jog around the front until I'm on the passenger side, pulling open her door. "My lady." I extend my hand to her.
She takes it and steps down, grinning at me. "Thank you, kind sir."
I thread my fingers with hers as we walk the short distance and take the three steps to her front door. Standing underneath the porch light, I stare at her, completely in awe of her, of everything she's been through, of how resilient and strong she is.
"You're beautiful, Evie."
She scrunches her nose at me as if she doubts my words.
"I mean it. You're a survivor. There's nothing ugly about that."
She cocks her head to the side, studying me. "So are you."
30
Evie
"All right, Noodle, tell me what's going on?" my brother asks, plopping down too close next to me on the couch, so his weight sends me bouncing on my cushion.
"Hmm? Nothing," I deflect, never breaking my attention from the article I'm reading on my laptop. The #MeToo movement is growing as so many strong women around the world come forward with stories of sexual harassment and assault. They range in ages, races, socioeconomic statuses, and career choices. Their bravery is inspiring on so many levels and I aspire to be like them.
Graham closes my laptop on my fingers. "Nice try. But I know something is up."
"Graham! How do you know I wasn't working on something important?"
He kicks his feet up on the coffee table, chuckling at me. "Because I'm your brother and know you. If you were working, and not just reading an article, you would have saved it three seconds ago. Now, you're just avoiding the question. So something is definitely wrong. Tell me."
I stick my tongue out at him and place my laptop on the coffee table. Kicking my feet up and under me, I pull a throw blanket across my knees and settle back, fixing Graham with a look.
"Okay, I'll start," he volunteers like he's doing me a favor. "Jax is back in your life."
I roll my eyes.
"That was a nice move, him walking you to your front door. Very old school. How're things going?"
"What is this, twenty questions?"
"Hardly. That was, I don't know, three questions at most."
"Want a tea?"
Graham studies me for a second, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe, before nodding. "Sure."
I scuttle into the kitchen and place the kettle on the stove. Busying myself with preparing the tea, I clear my head and settle my nerves. As the kettle begins to whistle, I turn off the stove and pour two cups of tea.
Turning around, Graham is in the entrance of the kitchen, staring at me.
"You okay?”
"Yes, why?”
"You’ve been crying.”
I blow out a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Something happen with Jax?”
I shake my head, indicating that we should relocate our conversation to the living room.
Graham follows me closely, sitting next to me on the couch. I flip on the TV for background noise and for a few seconds, we both stare at it even though neither of us is watching it.
"I miss you, Noodle."
"Me too," I murmur, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.
“Why were you crying today?”
“I told Jax some things.” I pause, blowing on my tea. “Things that happened the summer he left. Things I haven’t told anyone before.”
My brother blows out a deep breath, his face trained on my profile as he watches me. "I don't know what went down that summer, but I know it changed you. Since Jax has been back, you seem like yourself again, or closer to it, than you have in a very long time."
"I'm getting there." I take a sip of tea.
"Listen, Evie, I know I haven't been around a lot these past few years. All my updates come from Mom, and how much she worries about you. I know whatever happened that summer changed you. I'm sorry if I wasn't there for you the way I should have been. To be honest, I was caught up in my life, my own shit. And I assumed you were just dealing with a broken heart. The end of a high school relationship. Seeing you now, being here," he pauses, as if saying the words aloud is painful, "it was more than that, wasn't it?"
Nodding, I take another sip, letting the scalding tea burn my throat.
"I'm here now, Evie."
I turn and look at my brother, noting his concerned expression and the tightness around his eyes. I don't think I ever could have told him had I not told Jax. But now that I have, now that I know I have the support of at least one person I can count on, could I maybe make it two?
Inhaling sharply, I place my tea on the coffee table and plunge forward. "I was raped."
Graham's face falls, a sheen of shock washing over his features, followed by confusion. And then he's pulling me into a hug so warm, so caring, so supportive that I find myself crying all over again.
Graham lets me cry, keeps me wrapped up in his embrace, until my sobs turn into hiccups, and my tears dry on my skin. He doesn't say anything, just murmurs comforting sounds and rubs my back, letting me know that he's here for me.
When the last hiccup subsides, I pull back, rubbing the backs of my hands across my eyes and offer a shaky smile.
"Evie." Graham's voice breaks and when I witness the loss in his eyes, I almost feel guilty for not confiding in him sooner.
When did I pull so far away from him that I felt I couldn't tell him things? At one time, I told him everything, even the things he didn't want to know or didn't ask about. Why did I let that change?
"I'm sorry," we say in unison before laughing, the sound nervous.
"You first," he says, leaning against the couch and picking up his mug.
"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."
"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't."
"It’s not you. I didn’t, I couldn’t tell anyone. I was so embarrassed, ashamed really.”
“Why? Evie, no one who loves you would ever think any less of you for that.”
“I know but I felt, God, I felt so stupid. So weak. They kept saying how I was too confident for my own good, flaunted that I thought I was better than everyone, that I was going places. And in some ways, I felt that they were right. I was confident, so sure of myself, so sure of West Point and my future.” I swallow nervously. “I guess in some twisted way, I felt like I deserved it.”
“They?”
“There were two of them.”
Graham’s eyes close as all color drains from his face. He tips his head back so it rests against the couch cushions and I watch as two tears leak from the corners of his eyes. When he opens them, they bleed with pain and sorrow. “Does anyone else know?”
“I told Jax earlier.”
Graham swallows thickly. "I'm happy you feel like you can confide in him.”
"Denver and Carter know too. They were there that night."
Graham pinches the bridge of his nose as his eyes shutter closed again. "Who were the guys? If you don't feel like talking about it, I—"
"No, I want to tell you," I admit, the honesty of my words surprising the both of us. I wrap my hands aro
und my mug and settle back, resting my head against the cushions. Then I tell my brother the entire story. Starting with the day Jax broke my heart and ending with today.
Graham is quiet throughout my entire story, watching me closely, flashes of pain sparking in his eyes at certain moments.
When I finish, he pulls me back in for another hug and kisses the top of my head. "I'm amazed by you, Evie. I'm so incredibly proud of you, and I'm here for anything you need moving forward. I’m here. Got me?"
I nod, burying my face into the familiar smell of his T-shirt.
“You can tell me anything, Evie, absolutely anything. It would never change the way I see you or how much I love you.”
“I know that now.”
“What about Mom?”
“I’d like to tell her, too. She deserves to know and I, I miss her.”
“I’ll go with you if you’d like?”
“Okay. Tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Want to watch TV and hang out?” I ask, suddenly needing some normalcy to balance out all the serious conversation.
My brother keeps an arm wrapped around me as he picks up the remote. “After something that heavy, I’ll even indulge you and watch one of those awful reality TV shows you like.”
I pinch his side. “Comic relief?”
He pulls me closer. “Something like that.”
I snuggle into his side as he presses play on an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
Graham comes with me the next morning to my mom's house. Her features sharpen in surprise as she opens the door. "What's wrong?" she asks, her hand reaching up to clasp the pendant she always wears around her neck—a gift Graham and I bought her for Mother's Day years ago.
"Nothing." Graham says, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "We just wanted to come by for breakfast."
"Of course." She holds the door open, gesturing for us to enter. “I love when we’re all home together.” Her eyes flick to me and her smile dies on her lips. "Evie, are you all right?"
I take a deep breath and smile weakly. "Have you made coffee yet?"
"Yes, come on into the kitchen." She turns, and Graham and I follow her.
Graham shoots me a reassuring look.
Within minutes, Mom has the table set with fresh fruit, hot coffee, muffins, and toast in the toaster.
"What's going on? Would you like eggs?" Her eyes dart over to Graham as he shakes his head.
"Mom, Evie would like to tell you something."
Mom turns toward me, her face so open, her eyes so kind that I want her to reach out and pull me into a hug.
My throat is suddenly dry and it’s difficult to swallow. I don’t want to hurt my mom and I know she’s going to be devastated when she learns the truth. She’s probably going to blame herself for not knowing, for not figuring it out sooner. I’m sure she’ll wonder why I felt like I couldn’t tell her. She’ll blame herself for that too, trying to think of examples where she made me feel like I couldn’t trust her.
"Evie?"
I blink. Inhale. Exhale. I can do this.
"Mom," I begin, my voice barely audible. I clear my throat. "I want to explain to you why I didn't go to West Point." My fingertips clench the tablecloth, giving my hands something to do so they don't sit on top of the table and tremble.
"Evie, it’s okay. You don’t owe me an explanation or—"
"Mom, I need to tell you.” I plead and her eyes widen, her words trailing off.
I take a fortifying breath as Graham reaches over to place a palm in the center of my back for moral support.
"Mom, I was raped. By two guys I went to high school with. At a senior party," I rasp out.
My mother stares at me in shock before her eyes fill with tears, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth. "Evie." My name is a strangled whisper as she shakes her head. "Oh, God, Evelyn, I am so sorry." Tears escape over her bottom eyelashes, her fingers clutching the pendant at her throat. "When? How? Oh, my darling girl." She stands, coming around to my side of the table and wrapping me in her arms, pressing my head against her stomach.
I close my eyes, surprised when I feel my own tears track my cheeks. I didn’t think it was possible to cry this much. We remain in silence for several minutes, me wrapped in my mother's embrace, and my brother's hand rubbing small circles along my spine. My family enfolds me in a shroud of support.
I'm not sure how much time passes, but eventually my mom pulls her chair around the table and sits next to me, clasping my hands in hers. "What happened?"
I open my mouth, and the entire story spills out. I watch as her eyes narrow in anger, widen in surprise, and practically fall out of her head when she learns that Gary and Paul are both Army now. I tell her everything and when I'm done, she pulls me into a hug and whispers apologies over and over into my hair.
Breakfast rolls into lunch, and my brother steps out to pick up some pizzas. We're sitting in the living room when Mom asks me the question that no one else has since the actual incident.
"How do you want to handle this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Would you like to file a police report? Press charges? I'll support whatever decision you make, Evie. We will do whatever will help you heal."
"Mom, they're Army. They're practically untouchable."
"No, they weren't Army at the time of the attack and even if they were, there are still channels we can access. If you want to."
"I never took a rape kit."
"But there was a witness."
“Yes.” I think of Carter.
"Take some time, love. Think about it."
"I want to press charges." The words shoot out of my mouth quickly, surprising us both.
"Okay."
"I don't want them to do what they did to me to anyone else. And even though I should have spoken up sooner…" I shake my head. "I keep reading all of these articles about the #MeToo Movement. There are so many stories of incredible women coming forward, some many years later, and naming their attackers. They are so brave, resilient. I want to be strong like them. And I want to make sure that my silence doesn’t allow Gary or Paul to do something similar to someone else. I'm going to do now what I should have done then."
"I'll go with you to file the report," Mom offers. She looks at me, her eyes softening. "If you'd like me to."
"Yes, I would. Thank you."
Graham returns, and Mom and I drop the issue. The three of us sit around the table, eating pizza, and talking. It feels so much like Friday night dinners in high school that for once, I remember the past and feel lighter.
When I arrive home from Mom’s later in the day, Jax is sitting on the steps in front of my townhouse. He smiles when he sees me but it’s tight and I know he’s still worried about me, worried about everything that unfolded the day before.
“Hey Jax.” Graham calls out before turning to me. “I’m going to swing by and see Hunter, let you two talk. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks for coming with me today, Graham.”
“Of course.”
I climb out of Graham’s rental car and wave as he drives off.
“Hey.” I turn toward Jax.
“Hey yourself. How are you today?” He asks, standing up as I walk closer.
“I’m good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I place my hand in his when I get close enough and tug him up the stairs. He kisses my cheek sweetly as I fumble with the locks. Once we’re inside my townhouse, we sit down in my living room.
Jax raises his eyebrows at me questioningly, “Did you talk to Graham?”
“Yep, and Mom.”
“Really?”
I blow out a deep breath and watch his face as I say, “I’m going to press charges tomorrow.”
Jax rolls his bottom lip in between his teeth as he looks away and I note the moisture that collects in his eyes. After a moment, he looks at me, his eyes brighter. “That’s incredible, Evie. I
’m proud of you. Whatever you want to do, however you want to handle this, I’m behind you one hundred percent.”
“I know.”
“We all are.”
“Thank you.” I lean forward and kiss him lightly.
He holds my face delicately in his hands and kisses me with a sweetness, a reverence, I didn’t know existed.
My heart soars in my chest at the understanding and compassion I’m receiving for admitting a shame I let cripple me for way too long.
Mom and I head down to the police station early the next morning. Several officers slant their eyes in question at my mom as we walk inside and ask to speak with the Chief of Police. Mom doesn't bat an eye under the extra scrutiny; after we are called to enter Chief Allen's office, Mom sits down and looks at me, waiting for me to speak the words I need to say in order to move forward.
Chief Allen offers me an encouraging nod, and Mom leans over and grasps my fingers in hers.
I take a deep breath and tell Chief Allen my story. I'm surprised as he regards me sympathetically, taking time to walk me through the process and explain to me in detail what my options are.
“You do understand that a rape charge is much harder to stick without evidence and years after the incident occurred?” Chief Allen asks gently.
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s going to be harder to prove the rape than if you had pressed charges immediately and had a rape kit performed.”
“I understand.”
“Okay. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll take your statement.”
I take a deep breath and officially file a police report.
Chief Allen explains that after turning it over to detectives, someone will be in touch to discuss how to proceed.
I nod, shaking his hand to thank him for his time.
Stepping out of the police station, Mom and I hold hands, and she squeezes my fingertips. I exhale a massive sigh, letting go of so many feelings, emotions, and thoughts that have been suffocating me for years.
I squeeze Mom's fingers back, feeling lighter than I ever thought possible.