Once Perfect

by Cecy Robson

  “What do you want, Donovan?” I had meant to put force in my voice, but its pure viciousness surprised even me.

  He scowled as if he couldn’t understand me or my anger. “To help you, Evelyn. Why the hell else would I be in this shitbag neighborhood?”

  Rage burned its way through me. “I don’t need your help. I helped myself when you dropped me like I was a piece of garbage.”

  “You call this helping yourself? You’re a fucking waitress, Evelyn, and you’re living in a goddamn shack! Do you have any idea what my family would say if they knew I was here?”

  “You elitist asshole!” I stormed up to him. “I’m making a living, at an honest job, and paying my way through school.” His ignorance made me want to punch him in his perfect nose. “I’m graduating nursing school this semester. I did it on my own, without anyone helping me. And here you stand, having the audacity to believe I’m this pathetic loser you’re compelled to save!” My chest hurt, and the tears burning their way through my eyes were inevitable. “See what you want to see. I stopped caring what you and your family think a long time ago.”

  We watched each other for a long time, our fast breaths visible in the frigid night air. “I didn’t know that you were in school,” he finally said.

  “Now you do. And you can leave. Don’t come back here again.”

  I started to walk up my steps, but Donovan’s words held me in place. “I’m sorry I left you.” He shuffled behind me. “And I’m sorry I didn’t help when you did need me.”

  Tears streamed down my face, drenching my cold cheeks. “Is this why you’re here? To apologize?”

  “In part,” he said quietly. “It hasn’t been easy on me―walking away. I know you think it was. But it was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.” He didn’t look directly at me then, choosing instead to stare across the lawn and into my neighbor’s yard, where the heavy snow bent the bushes down to the ground. “We were supposed to be together, right? Get married. Have kids.”

  I wiped my face with my scarf. Donovan had filled out more since I’d last seen him, and more facial hair lined his square jaw. His blond hair, once short all around, was now longer and lay tucked behind his ears. He wasn’t the same boy I’d known, but traces of that boy still lingered in the man he’d become. I pushed down the hurt his presence brewed within me. “That was the one good thing that happened when you left. I realized the life we’d imagined between us was just a fantasy. One I’m glad never came true.”

  He scoffed. “You’re still really pissed at me for dumping you, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t care that you broke up with me. What I don’t like is that you’re here. Your texts. Your calls. Jesus, Donovan. I’ve moved on. Why can’t you?”

  “Because it was a mistake to let you go.”

  I bristled. “Don’t pretend like there’s still something between us. Because there’s not, and there won’t be.”

  He walked to me slowly. “My grandfather died a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving.”

  His response, while startling, explained his return to the area the time Lourdes had seen him. For a split second, my resolve deteriorated. His grandfather had always been nice to me. “I’m sorry. I know you were close to him.”

  “Yeah. Well. He had cancer. I don’t know if you knew that.” He buried his hands deep in his pockets when I shook my head. “He left me his estate and practically every last dime he had. Back when your father died, my parents had the money, and therefore the control. I didn’t have a choice but to stay away. Now I do. Will you let me make it up to you?”

  My response was firm, and I didn’t hesitate. “No.”

  He let out a harsh breath. “Son of a bitch, Evelyn. I’m asking you to forgive me. You used to have it in you.”

  “Donovan, you’re not asking me to forgive you. You’re trying to pay off your guilt for how you treated me.”

  “I never mistreated you!”

  “Damaged goods.” My words smacked him in place, forcing his eyes to widen with familiarity while mine watered with anger. “Do you remember calling me that? My father was dead, my family’s reputation destroyed. And those were the words you left me with.”

  Donovan went rigidly still. “My God, Evelyn…you don’t remember, do you?”

  My lips parted as something deep within me twisted. My mind flashed with the image of Donovan’s whitening face as I sat in his car telling him about finding my father. I shoved the vision away and the screams that threatened to release with the memory. Go inside. Just go inside. You need to go inside, I told myself.

  I robotically trudged up my steps. Donovan reached for my hand. “Don’t touch me!” I shrieked.

  A black SUV roared into my driveway. Mateo leapt out, storming toward us. I broke out of Donovan’s grip and rushed down the steps to intercept him.

  Mateo yanked me behind him, shielding me with his body. He hadn’t bothered with a coat and was still in his black T-shirt and cargo pants. “You all right?” His lethal stare was trained on Donovan when he asked me.

  “Y-yes. I’m fine.”

  He cut his eyes to me. He saw I was crying, and took it out on Donovan. “You put your fucking hands on her again, I’ll make you bleed.”

  Donovan rose to his full quarterback size. “Donovan, don’t,” I warned. My ex-boyfriend was big, strong, athletic, and agile.

  But Mateo knew how to fight.

  And he’d been trained to kill.

  I didn’t dare move just then. And I prayed Donovan wouldn’t either.

  “Is this your ex?” Mateo asked me.

  My arms tightened around his. “Yes.”

  A dangerous calm swept over Mateo. Holy shit, I’d never seen him so pissed. He pulled out a wad of clipped bills from his pocket and held it up. “Are you the little bitch with cash?” He tossed the money at Donovan’s feet.

  Donovan balled his hands into tight fists. “That’s for Evelyn.”

  “For what?” Mateo’s voice deepened to a growl. “To keep her quiet so no one finds out you raped her?”

  Donovan’s face lost all his color before deepening to red. His head whipped toward me. “Is that what you told him? That I raped you?”

  “Teo, he-he didn’t.” Another image flashed of me and Donovan back in his car. This one was of him crying. “He wasn’t the one who…”

  Oh, God.

  A barrage of memories pounded into my brain, beating my skull. I tried to force them away. This time, they refused to leave―demanding I watch them, hear them, feel them.

  “Evie. Evie.” Mateo caught me when I fell. My breathing was so ragged, so fast, it burned my lungs. “Get the fuck away from her!”

  Like watching an old movie on a battered screen, I relived the worst of my nightmares….

  I’d finally fallen asleep after learning my father had embezzled millions and was scheduled to be arraigned the next day. I awoke abruptly with him in my room.

  Hands. My father’s hands touched me. They pulled at my nightshirt. He shoved them between my legs. He wouldn’t stop.

  “No!” I screamed at him. “Daddy, no!”

  His breath reeked of bourbon and he sobbed when I fought him off me. He staggered away, tears leaking down his face in rivers. “You used to let me when you were a little girl.”

  When I was a little girl…

  “Evelyn. Jesus Christ, she needs a doctor!”

  I barely heard Donovan’s words. Everything seemed to fade. Even Mateo’s voice as he begged me to stay with him.

  I wasn’t there anymore. I was back in that room where my father had betrayed me, gripping my heavy comforter tighter against my breasts while the echo of the gun blast rang in my ears.

  That’s why he’d killed himself. It wasn’t just the ruin of our family name at his hands. It was his admission of what he’d done to me.

  No, Mateo, I wanted to say. Donovan didn’t rape me.

  My father did.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke up in th
e hospital with Mateo’s hand firmly in mine. His upper body leaned against my bed. He lifted his head from where it rested across his forearm when I stirred. “Hi, baby,” he said.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me to him when I began to sob. For a long time he held me, waiting until the tears I thought would never end finally did.

  Lourdes sat quietly on a small couch by a large window. Neither she nor Mateo appeared to have slept. “My father raped me,” I admitted, my throat so raw the words pained me in more ways than one. I’d probably been crying a lot more than I realized then.

  “We know.” Tears shimmered in Lourdes’s dark eyes. She stood and wiped them. “I’m not going to lie, this shit’s really messed up. But I want you to know, you’re going to get the help you need. You’re going to be okay, nena. Just stay with us, and you’re going to be okay.”

  My eyes scanned my immediate area, my mind still groggy from whatever meds I was given during my breakdown. The large clean room resembled a hotel suite. It didn’t hold any medical equipment that I could see. The vents and the overhead paging system were the only evidence it was an inpatient facility. It was nice. Too nice. “I can’t afford to be here, Lourdes.”

  I started to stand. Mateo kept me in place with just a simple stroke to my arm. “You have to, Evie. At least for now, baby.”

  Lourdes moved closer. “Evelyn, it’s going to work out. Dr. Harte has privileges here. I called her this morning. She’s going to fix things with the staff so she takes over your care….”

  She said a few more things about Xanax and Dr. Harte stopping in later, but my focus returned to Mateo. God, I was terrified of what he must think of me. My voice cracked when my gaze met his. “I’m so sorry…for everything.”

  Mateo’s face hardened. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. You were a kid, and he was a man who should have known better than to hurt his little girl….”

  —

  Donovan arrived to see me early the next morning before my discharge. I think Mateo only allowed him in my room because he’d helped bring me to the hospital. With my permission, Mateo agreed to leave us alone.

  For a long time, I didn’t know what to say to him. Donovan wasn’t perfect by any stretch. But his presence, and his insistence that I receive medical treatment, demonstrated that he did care. Even if those feelings stemmed from guilt.

  He lowered himself onto a folding chair next to my bed. The same chair Mateo had sat in, waiting for me to wake up. “I still love you, Evelyn,” Donovan told me. “I never stopped.”

  I stared at my hands. “I don’t think you do, Donovan. I think you love what I was supposed to be for you.” I met his face then. “We both know I’m not that person anymore.”

  “I know you’re not.” He tapped his foot. His attention mostly fixed to the floor. “You’ve changed a lot. The Evelyn Preston I knew wouldn’t have yelled at me―especially in public.” He laughed without humor. “And she wouldn’t have told me to fuck off.”

  An ache built in my throat. “I couldn’t afford to be meek anymore when you left. If I had, I wouldn’t have survived.”

  In the quiet between us, I realized Donovan’s initial attraction to me. He was the alpha dog from friggin’ birth. He swallowed the competition whole and he enjoyed it. He wouldn’t have enjoyed an equal partner. He wanted someone passive. So when I came along―someone obedient and easily manipulated, and someone who didn’t make a fuss—of course he picked me. It all made sense now.

  “So you’re with that Latino guy now. The bouncer.”

  “His name is Mateo. And yes, we’re together.” I hoped that wouldn’t change now, considering…

  Donovan rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Do you love him?”

  “I do.” The truth made my eyes well. God, I didn’t want to lose him.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Donovan released an angry breath, hauling me back to the moment. “Why the hell would you let him think I raped you?”

  My eyebrows knitted. “I didn’t know that was what Mateo thought. If I did, I wouldn’t have let him believe it.” My fingers played with the sheets. “He knew you’d hurt me, and I guess he just assumed it was physical.”

  “You know I’d never do that to you.” He straightened when I didn’t answer. “Christ, Evelyn, never once did I force you!”

  “No, you didn’t. But it was always about you, Donovan. What pleased you. The positions you liked best. The things you wanted to try.” I sighed, slightly embarrassed for speaking so openly but mostly ashamed I hadn’t spoken up when it mattered. “I may have been there with you, and willing. But my needs were probably the last thing on your mind.”

  At first, the strong lines on his face exposed his shock at my bluntness. Then he opened his mouth, ready to argue, only to snap it shut. He rubbed his face. “I was a horny teen. And I’m sorry.” His eyes glistened. “I never intended to hurt you, Evelyn. And I’ve lived with the guilt of abandoning you since it happened.”

  We searched each other’s expressions. I suppose each of us was waiting for the other to reveal more. But enough had been said, at least when it came to our relationship. “Okay,” I finally said.

  “ ‘Okay’? That’s it?” Donovan’s bleak expression grew in severity, as if he understood the deeper meaning behind my simple response. “We’re never going to be friends again, are we?”

  “I don’t see how we can,” I admitted. “Too much went on, you know? If…” I swallowed hard. “Could you just tell me what happened that night you left me with Lourdes’s family? I’ve obviously repressed a lot. I think it’s time I start filling in the holes.”

  He stood and looked out the window. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, his voice strained. “You didn’t take finding out about your father well.”

  I pulled my knees toward me and tucked them against my chest. Donovan was probably right. But he was the only one with the answers, and I knew I wouldn’t see him after today. “Please tell me.”

  He hesitated before turning back to face me. “When we found out about your dad embezzling, my parents told me I couldn’t see you anymore. That you weren’t what I needed or what was best for my future.” He huffed. “I didn’t like them telling me what to do, not when it came to you. So I emptied my bank accounts and found you.”

  “We were supposed to run away together.” I’d forgotten our stupid plan. Maybe because it was another part of my past not worth remembering.

  “You didn’t look good,” Donovan said. “It was the same day your uncles and their attorneys met you at the police station, accusing you of knowing where their money was. You’d spent the day being interrogated, so I thought you were stressed from everything they’d put you through.”

  Traces of the day appeared here and there―climbing into Donovan’s new Audi…and fear at what I had to tell him.

  “You didn’t speak for a long time, Evelyn. So I pulled into the park―the one we used to go to when we wanted to be alone. That’s when you told me what your father said right before he offed himself. You know, about what he did to you when you were a little girl.”

  I lowered my lids, pressing them tight, allowing his words to take me back to that day. Donovan had taken my news worse than I could have imagined. He wouldn’t say anything, even when I started crying. He wouldn’t hold me. He wouldn’t touch me. I kept waiting for him to give me comfort through words or a caress, but all he did was stare at me like I was a stranger. Then, suddenly, he was the one crying. I didn’t understand why he appeared so devastated. It was as if he’d been victimized instead of me.

  He’d started the car again and driven me back to Lourdes’s grandmother’s house without a word.

  “What are you doing?” I’d asked, even though I knew things were over between us.

  “I can’t be with you, Evelyn,” he’d told me. “Not like this.”

  I didn’t understand. “Please don’t leave me, too,” I’d begged him. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear it!”


  Now Donovan took hold of my hand. The tears drenching my face told him I’d remembered everything. It hadn’t taken much on his part for the incident to come slamming back into focus. “That’s why you called me ‘damaged goods.’ Because of what my father did to me.” My voice quivered, but I told myself to stay strong in his presence. “Here I thought it was just because my family had been disgraced.” I glanced at our hands. “I guess I shouldn’t have given you so much credit.”

  Donovan’s appalled expression met mine as if I’d slapped him. “I was a cold bastard, Evelyn. And you’re right, it wasn’t your fault. But your confession freaked me out.”

  “Yeah, well, it freaked me out, too―considering what happened to me!” I pulled my hand from his. “God, Donovan, what kind of person does this to someone he claims to love? I was traumatized, and you made it all about you!”

  Donovan buried his shattered face in the mattress beside me. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn. Christ, I’m so sorry.”

  I clamped one hand over my eyes and wept. The other stroked Donovan’s hair as he cried. Maybe I shouldn’t have. But years ago he had been my world. And in his own way, I knew he meant to be kind. Still, he wasn’t anything close to what I needed or deserved. “I want you to have a good life, Donovan,” I told him truthfully. “I just want you to have it without me. Please leave. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  He lifted his head, his face split with pain and regret. “Evelyn.”

  “Just go. I forgive you for what you did. But I won’t forgive you if you stay. My life doesn’t include you anymore.”

  He passed a rough hand over his face and stood. For a long time he didn’t do anything but loom over me. When he spoke, his voice was barely a shadow of what was once so confident. “If you ever need anything―money, a place to live, anything—find me, okay?”

  I stared at him, both of us knowing that would never happen. He stopped on his way out with his hand on the door handle. “I’ll always love you, Evelyn.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  My counseling sessions with Dr. Harte started a week later. I’d meet with her for forty minutes at a time, sometimes longer when we unraveled more about my molestation. Over the course of several weeks, we determined that the abuse began following my mother’s death when I was four years old, and that it continued regularly until I was about seven, around the same time my father gained control over his alcoholism.