by Riley Moreno
Julie shook it all off and rested her head on Ethan’s shoulder.
“Did I call too soon?” she asked.
Ethan’s eyes met hers for a fleeing moment.
“I said I’d be here if you needed me.”
She did. She needed him now. She needed to feel like something more than a battered freak, and it was easier next to him.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked.
“Home. My home.”
She sobbed into his shoulder as he kept driving. She couldn’t speak.
“That’s what you wanted, right. I should’ve seen it. I’m… I’m sorry I left you alone.”
It was all she’d wanted to hear. Julie felt like she was nowhere, and she stayed in that space until Ethan parked the car at a curb. He rushed out and helped Julie to the sidewalk. Her bag was already over his shoulder, and they walked towards his door.
Ethan steadied her on the stoop.
“Is this really what you want?” he asked.
Julie turned her weary, torn face to his with a sigh.
“What I really want is for everything to just go back to normal. But…”
Exhausted again, Julie sank to the steps. Normal. She didn’t know what the word meant anymore. She was out of the fire. Somehow, she had survived the ordeal. And it was her fault. Her fault for breathing while Kim’s body grew colder. Her fault for being touched even though, every time, she had futilely pleaded through a seemingly unending stream of tears. Julie would never get back to normal, and it felt like the final punch in her face.
“But that’s never going to happen, is it?”
If anyone would know…
As he placed his warm hand on his shoulder, Ethan sadly shook his head. The confirmation that life as she knew it was nothing but a memory stung her soul and she found herself sobbing harder at the truth he offered. But at least his touch was soft. Her body stiffened some at the feel of his hand mingling with the memories of so many others, but he would never hurt her.
Julie shivered, and Ethan eased her off the steps.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
She was numb.
“Let’s get you inside, okay?”
Ethan unlocked the door and led her into a small foyer. He started to guide her up another staircase, when a door cracked open. Julie flinched at the sound, and Ethan’s arm tightened around her trembling shoulders. She was suddenly face-to-face with a middle-aged man who nodded at Ethan and smirked when he saw Julie under his arm.
“What’s up, buddy?” he said. “Who’s your friend?”
Was it written across her face, just one more scar that would never be erased? The words they had used, the terrible, insulting words. Whore. Slut. How many times had Julie twisted her head in denial of the labels, but now it was as if they were made to be true and stay forever in the eyes of any man who happened to cross her path.
“Not a good time, Nick,” Ethan said as he resumed his efforts to get Julie away from the world and secure in the comforts of his home.
“Just trying to be friendly,” Nick continued. “You got yourself a sweet young thing there. How’d she get the slice? Your doing, buddy?”
As she bit her lip hard and lowered her eyes, Julie felt Ethan leave her side. She whirled around to see his hands on Nick’s collar, and Ethan pounded the other man into a nearby wall.
“What the---?”
“What is your problem?” Ethan demanded. “Can’t you see that this is a lady? Show some goddamned respect!”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I---”
Ethan pushed him away and returned to Julie’s side. He took her hand and firmly, gently, led her up the stairs.
“Buddy, I said I was sorry. I---”
Nick’s voice became muffled as they entered the apartment, and Ethan slammed the door. He seethed as he turned the deadbolt and put the chain in place. When he turned his attention back to Julie, her eyes were on her feet, and he slowly reached for her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he began. “Are you alright?”
Julie kept her eyes down as she struggled to speak.
“You… you lied to you friend,” she stammered.
“He’s not my friend,” Ethan said.
“Whatever.”
Julie pulled away from him and let out a pained laugh as she walked through the unfamiliar surroundings and pressed her head to window. Ethan was at her back, but he kept his hands where she couldn’t feel them as his soft voice slipped into her ear.
“He’s a jerk. He’s not worth your worry.”
“But he’s right.”
“What do you mean?”
All of the anger of the last several months finally trumped the fear that had become her existence, and she slammed her palm against the glass. If it had shattered in her hand, Julie might have grabbed hold of one of the stray shards and just ended what she was convinced would become an unending hell. The man downstairs had no knowledge of the entire story, but even now, even after Ethan’s attempt to put him in his place, he was probably imagining her stripped and submitting to Ethan. In his warped fantasy, he likely envisioned what he could do to her if given the chance. And this was just the beginning. Eventually, her identity would become public record, and then it would be open season for anyone that wanted a taste. There was no escape, no end in sight, and Julie pounded the glass again. Now Ethan’s fingers surrounded her small wrist, but Julie stepped back even as she faced him with blazing eyes.
“It’s no good. Don’t you see? I’m ruined. My own mother can’t bear to be in the same room with me. It should have been me,” she said, her mind drifting back to Kim. “I should be dead.”
He took a step towards her and offered his hand.
“Will you come with me for a second? Please.”
Reluctantly, Julie took his hand and followed him into a smaller room. As he clicked the light on, Julie found herself staring at her teary, bandaged reflection in his bathroom mirror.
He rested his hands against her arms.
“What do you see?” he asked.
Obviously her words weren’t enough to make him understand what she now was, and she turned her eyes away from the glass.
“Look, Juliet.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s ugly. It’s disgusting.”
“No. Please try to look.”
Julie lifted her eyes and fought the urge to spit at the face in the mirror.
“Can I tell you what I see?”
She barely nodded, but Ethan seized hold of the permission granted and continued.
“I see a beautiful, brave woman.”
Julie sneered at his observation.
“No.”
“Yes. Maybe you’re not the person you were… but you’re stronger for having survived it, and no one is ever going to hurt you again.”
How could that be true? Nearly every moment of her hard-won freedom was laced with pain. It was subtler than the blows that had rained down and within her body, but it still pierced every part of her.
“I can’t, Ethan,” she said through her tears.
“Yes you can.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t stop it. Not all by myself.”
Kim. If only she had her here to shoulder some of the burden.
He turned her away from the mirror, and he gave her a small smile once she was back in his eyes.
“Then let me help you,” he said. “I’m right here. And I promise that I’m not going anywhere.”
This was why she had called him. Only with Ethan did she feel anything remotely connected to security, and while nothing that had happened should make her feel lucky, there was some good fortune in Ethan entering her life.
“You won’t?” she asked, already knowing the answer but wanting, needing, to hear him say it again.
“No way.”
He plucked a few tissues from a nearby box and slipped the flimsy paper patches into her
hands. Julie thanked him as she dried her eyes.
“You’re welcome. Juliet?”
There was something too in his idea to call her by another name. It was impossible to link it to the pain still so fresh in her mind, and she smiled up at him as she asked him what he wanted.
“Can I… is it okay if I hold you?”
Not only was it okay, but she actually felt calmer at the idea of him keeping her close, keeping her safe.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Ethan slowly folded her into his arms. Julie settled into his embrace and heaved a sigh of relief as he safeguarded her where she stood. He took great care to be gentle as he ran his hands through her hair, down her back. They stayed like that, in silence, until Ethan eased her body from his and lightly stroked the uninjured side of her face.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Running away from home, food had been the last thing on her mind. But now, she was in his home, a place free of violence and judgment, and the thought of eating something regained some of its appeal. When she nodded, he took her hand and led her to a small kitchen that was really just another part of the main room separated by a small archway and distinguished by a tile floor. Resting on the counter was a white paper bag, and Ethan pulled out a large sandwich wrapped in foil. The discarded bag. An unopened bottle of beer that had to have gone warm. He had literally dropped everything to rush to her aid.
“Guess I interrupted,” she said apologetically.
“It’s all good. These things keep.” He unwrapped the sandwich, and Julie felt hungrier still at the sight of overflowing pieces of bread full of cold cuts, bursting with lettuce, dripping with oil and vinegar. Reaching into a drawer, Ethan retrieved a knife and carefully cut the sandwich in two. Placing the larger piece on a bright yellow plate, he offered her the meal and returned the forgotten bottle of beer to his fridge. In an instant, his hand reappeared with another bottle, freshly chilled, and he asked Julie if she wanted one.
Remembering the drinks with Matt and Pete should have turned her off his suggestion, but then she resolved to not let them take one more thing away from her. She needed a drink. She deserved it.
“Sure thanks.”
With two bottles in one hand and his own plate in the other, he shoved the fridge door close and led the way to a small table with two chairs. It was obvious that it hadn’t been used for a meal in forever. Setting his plate down on the one free space available, he picked up a pile of unopened junk mail and tossed it into small basket already filled to the brim other credit card offers and charity requests that he had yet to open. He wiped a small layer of dust away with his hand and beckoned for Julie to sit. She couldn’t help but smile at his impromptu attempt at housekeeping. The man was still such a boy.
“Dig in,” he said.
Julie took a small bite of her sandwich. It tasted better than she had expected, and she nodded when he asked her it was alright. Washing it down with the beer, Julie felt a faint buzz and smiled at him.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked.
Julie wondered if he was this polite with everyone, or if he was just taking extra care with her because no one else had considered her consent in ages.
“Yes?”
He took a quick drink and leaned back in his chair.
“I… I mean I’m sorry it was so rough with your parents. I really hoped… and I still think you can patch things up with them. Just give them some time.”
There wasn’t enough in the world, but Julie simply said that she hoped he was right as she pressed him for the answer to his own request.
“But… I’m glad you’re here.”
Julie took another drink and smiled at him.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“At least your dad seemed concerned. Guess I went a little crazy there, but you just… it was like you had to get away.”
And there was another reason beyond Greg’s suddenly furious hands.
“He’s not my dad.”
“What do you mean?”
“My dad… died. A long time ago.”
Ethan leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.
“Oh. I’m so sorry. Can I ask---?”
“Car accident. I was only ten.”
What if he was here now? Her mother might never have become this person who wanted her home forever under the condition that she not return with scars both visible and hidden that would forever mark her time away. Then again, maybe not. Julie remembered her feeble attempt to run away after the denied slumber party with Bethany Irwin. Was it possible that it had never been about keeping her safe but keeping some kind of control? Without that Sharon obviously had no idea as to how to function. Regardless, Julie wanted to believe that her real father, her true father, would have fought back tears while looking for new ways to move heaven and earth in order to convince his only child that everything would make sense again, someday. He would have looked for her in the first place. Maybe she never would have wanted to leave if he was alive. But it did no good to ponder what could never be.
“I get it,” he offered meekly.
“I know you do.”
He had been through his own wringer, and Julie felt strong enough to continue.
“I thought about him a lot. While it was happening. I actually kind of believed that he’d… I don’t know. Fly down from wherever he was and rescue me. I mean, he had to know. He had to see it, right? So why do nothing? Had too much time gone by? Did he forget about me?”
Ethan reached across the table and took her hand.
“You know that’s not true.”
“But do I? It was so long. And so awful. If he could have stopped it, why didn’t he?”
Even as she spoke, Julie knew that she sounded like a foolish child. She was far from the first to pray for a ghost’s intervention, and centuries of petitions had gone unanswered from those who suffered more than she had borne. But a tiny part of her couldn’t let it go. Alive he would have done anything. Dead, possibly omniscient, he'd abandoned her like all the rest.
“Maybe he did,” Ethan finally said.
Julie watched as he raised his eyes to hers. Almost instantly, she caught his drift.
“You?” she asked.
“Think about it,” he started. “Me being there. Those bastards just asking me. It didn’t make sense. It still doesn’t. So… so maybe I was supposed to find you.”
Ethan held her hand tighter and warily stroked her wrist.
“Call that divine intervention. You’re free, Juliet. And you’re never going back.”
Once again in a single lifetime, she had come through another worst moment, and she was still standing to tell the tale. Could he be onto something? The specter of her father would never have been tangible enough to offer his shirt and race her out of hell. So the task fell to the one man to chance upon the horror show who was unable to look away from her distress.
“I know. You’re probably right.”
She closed her eyes and massaged her brow. As Ethan’s hand left hers, she felt him kneel at her side, and he tentatively touched her face.
“And… and you can stay here for however long you need to. As long as you want to. That door is open and waiting if you want to leave at any time.”
Opening her eyes again, she saw his free hand pointing to the exit. But Julie had no desire to flee this safe haven.
“I don’t want to go,” she said.
“Same here.”
Ethan returned to his chair, and they finished dinner. When the plates were empty, he was up and clearing the table. Julie made a move to help and ran the water.
“I got this,” he said. “You can relax.”
“No,” she said as she held the plates under the faucet. “Washing a dish is as close to normal as I’m going to get tonight.”
Julie liked the sensation of the suds running between her fingers as she scrubbed each plate clean and placed it in the strainer. Trying to find a way to mirror her actions, h
e cleaned the abundance of mail from the overflowing basket. He tore most of it to shreds, and when he was done, once she’d dried the dishes and found the cabinets where they appeared to belong, they stood staring at each other, both of them searching for the next word.
“So,” he finally said. “What now?”
If this had somehow happened before everything that she had suffered, this might be the moment where she took his hand again and asked him to take her to bed. Julie was sure that he would be slow and sweet. But the thought of a man with her like that was something she could never entertain. Julie could drink a beer and assure herself that Matt was dead and Pete would never get near enough to hurt her again, but Julie was certain that she would never be able to tolerate another man on top of her, inside her. Even the idea of it being Ethan, who had had been nothing but kind, still scared her, and Julie shuffled where she stood.
“I don’t know,” Julie said. “I’m just so tired.”
Ethan patted her arm.
“You’re in luck. Got a free bed right down on the hall. Let’s get you a good night’s rest. You can sleep until noon if you want.”
Julie exhaled at the invitation and followed him to the bedroom.
It was another small room bathed in white linens with a window seat just beyond the edge of the bed. Ethan had her bag over his arm as he turned the comforter down and smoothed the wrinkles in anticipation of the sleep she so desperately craved. Even though she knew that he could do without, she still felt guilty about taking something else when he had already done so much.
“I’m really okay with the couch,” she said.
“And I’m okay with this. I’m not sleeping, but you should.”
He glanced at her bag as he started to leave the room.
“You just get settled. I’ll bring you some water.”
And he was gone. Julie sighed as she slowly undressed. There was a fallen mirror, probably intended to find itself pressed against the back of his closed door. Instead it rested upon the wall, and she saw her battered body in the glass. For a second, she turned away, but then she looked back.
Brave. Beautiful.
Julie felt neither as she changed into a pair of pajamas and slipped between the sheets. As her head hit the pillow, Ethan’s knock sat her up.