“Anyway, I knew with Mack the moment I met him, so why can't you love Z even though you've really had no time together? Z is smart, and kind, and selfless, and gorgeous, and totally not a typical rich New York kind of guy. And despite everything you've both been through, he loves you. I can see it. Everyone sees it. And he has made no secret of his feelings for you. Apparently, he and Marty even had a slightly heated argument over you once.” Flinching, Kayla takes my hand.
“It's fine. They're fine. Marty just didn't get it, and he hated seeing Z in Chicago waiting on this girl in a coma, then waiting for the girl to know him, then waiting while the girl broke his heart over the baby...” Flinch again. Shit. I hate honesty.
“Anyway, Z apparently told Marty how he felt about you. He told Marty everything he felt for you. And finally Marty listened and understood and they're fine now, I swear. Marty is 37 and single, and actually perfect for Kayla, but that's another story...” Really? I never thought of that, but maybe?
“So you love a man who has shown you absolute devotion no matter what happens, and no matter what you put him through. So what's not to love? Why wouldn't you miss him? Z is tied with Mack in the unbelievably amazing male department as far as I'm concerned. I love him dearly, and I wish for some peace for him, just like I wish for some happiness and peace for you.”
Looking at her eyes, Kayla seems so devastated by this situation, which makes me feel more guilty and awful and just so sad for Z.
“I wish I could change, I really do. But I can't. And I don't want to fake it, and there's nothing I can do to change the way I feel about this pregnancy, and... Yes, I love him and I miss him but I can't be and do want he wants and needs. So I can't be with him like that.”
“I agree. And that's why I haven't ever given you shit for all this pain you're causing Z and yourself. For once, though it kills me to see you both hurt this badly, I absolutely agree with you. I don't think you should be together based on faking feelings or because you pretend to be happy in a situation you’re truly not happy with.”
“Really?” I ask stunned.
“Yes. Mack wants you to be with Z. And obviously Z wants you to want him and this baby. But you don't want that, so I support you doing this the best way you can. Look, I don't know why you feel so negatively about this baby and I have no idea why you think you can't be a mother, but I also haven't suffered like you have so I'll probably never understand the psychological reasons behind you feeling the way you do.”
“I can’t explain it or… I’m not sure what to say anymore.”
“I don't know if you're aware of this but your eyes are just devastating to look at, Suzanne, and they always tell us so much. Seriously, I can't even explain it to you. Yes, they're very beautiful and so blue they're gorgeous, but there's something else. There is something so sad in your eyes... No, not sad. It’s more like painful or something. It's like we can see all the pain and the nightmares in your eyes. And it's horrible to see, Suzanne.
“…Mack once spoke to me about looking at you and how hard it is for him some days, because you can't hide anything from anyone with your eyes. They are just so expressive and so beautifully heartbreaking. Some days when you talk to me about little, nothing things I see this look in your eyes that tells me you are fighting your nightmares and your past so hard, and I just want to hug you so badly to make those demons in your eyes go away.”
I can't help but choke up at her words. I thought I was hiding everything. I thought I had them fooled. I thought I looked like I was all better now.
“So all I can do is support your decision regarding this situation because you think it is best, even though I DO think you're wrong about this. I know you would make an excellent mother, but you don't think you will, so I'm supporting your decision, whether I agree with you or not.” Ex-hale...
“Thank you, Kayla. I've been so alone with this and it's been killing me. I know I must seem a horrible person, and I know everyone feels so badly for Z, and I get it. I understand how hard this is for him, I really do. But I just don't want this at all. So hurting him for now is all I can do. But he gets the baby when this is all over. So maybe he'll forgive me for all this upset and pain afterward when he has the baby.”
“Probably. He loves you Suzanne very much and he's never hated you, so he probably will forgive you once he has his child. It's just so hard on him, and on you, I know. This whole thing just sucks. And Mack and I wish there was a way to make this work but since you don't think there is, I support you one hundred percent in this decision you’ve made.”
Breathing a 'thanks' I just look at this stunning woman and thank god she's here. Wiping my eyes again, I don't know what I would do without her and Mack in my life.
“I love you so much, Kayla. And I'm so grateful you're here,” I whisper.
“I love you too, Suzanne. And it's okay to love him and it’s okay to miss him. I love Z. He is truly amazing. And if he ever does move on or if you ever move on, I think you two will have a very special love for each other always. You've been through too much to not have a special love for each other. Also, you will always be his baby's mother, which Z will know every time he looks at the baby, so that's pretty special too. That makes YOU pretty special to Z.”
“I hope so...” and that's it. I have nothing else to give her. I have no more words because I've said them all. This situation does suck, but it's the best thing for us right now. I'm sure of it.
Feeling exhaustion settle in, I glance over Kayla's shoulder and see its 4:11am.
“Go back to sleep. But I'm gonna sleep here, okay?”
“Yes, please,” I breathe.
Suddenly flipping over, Kayla shakes her ass rather dramatically bouncing the whole bed, making me giggle as she fakes stretching out to get comfortable.
God, I love her Kayla-ness.
“Oh, and you owe me a huge breakfast in the morning for my awesomeness,” she says with her best smile-voice. “And I'm eating in my new PURPLE chair.”
“Okay...” I smile right back.
CHAPTER 31
AUGUST 20
Hearing the knock and looking thought the peep-hole I see Marcus. What the hell? Um, should I? Shouldn't I? There's a restraining order against him but I owe him, I think.
Opening the door, I pull in a big breath, place a fake Suzanne-smile on my ugly face and wait.
While smiling back at me, seconds pass in silence.
“Hi. Can I come in for a minute?” He asks timidly, like maybe he's not allowed to be here, which he isn't actually. Duh.
“Um, sure. How are you?”
“I'm good. Wow. Look at you. You're huge, Suzanne.”
“I know. I'm a house, and I have 2 months to go.” Do we talk about this? Do we not? This seems like a major awkward between us. Waiting, I don't know what else to say.
“Well, you make a lovely ‘house’, Suzanne. And the scars are barely noticeable now, which is good.” Huh. Nobody brings up the scars, so why did he? I feel annoyed already and he's said, like, 3 sentences so far. Awesome.
“How can I help you, Marcus?” I ask slightly clipped.
“You can’t... I just wanted to see how you were. I have to testify later at your mother's trial, you know, about things she said and did to you when we were together. So I wanted to talk to you about it first.” Shit.
“I don't really want to talk about that stuff, Marcus. I'm not comfortable talking about it, and I don't think we're really supposed to anyway. Legally.”
When Marcus walks past me into my living room, I'm suddenly very uncomfortable.
“Mack should be here soon. Would you like to see Mack when he gets here?”
“Not really, why? Do I seem like I should see Mack?” Um...
“No, of course not. I'm just not sure why you're here,” I say keeping a slight distance between us.
Walking to the end table, I start rearranging the magazines, and pick up my iPhone while casually hiding it with a magazine. Trying to slide op
en the face without him noticing, I feel like I need Mack. I don't know why, but I feel nervous and uncomfortable... and just scared.
“Suzanne, what's wrong? You're not even looking at me. You always looked at me before but you're not now. Are we okay?” Nope. Not really.
“We're fine, Marcus,” I lie while smiling at him. Making eye contact is hard, but I hold it. “Mack's going to be here any minute and we're going to the movies, so I have to finish getting ready, but it was nice seeing you again. Why don't you give me a call once in a while and let me know what's going on with you. I'd like to keep in touch.”
“Good, Suzanne,” he replies staring at me. Good, what?
Oh god, something's wrong. I can feel it all over my skin. This is not right.
Grasping for anything I ask, “Would you like some coffee?” as I turn for my kitchen.
With my back to him, I quickly look at my phone, pull up the contacts list and scroll for Mack. Please! Scrolling while trying not to look, I hit Mack and make a connection.
“Suzanne, what's wrong? You seem so uncomfortable, like you're afraid of me? I wouldn't hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course, MARCUS,” I smile. “I'm not uncomfortable, I'm just surprised to see you at. my. apartment. MARCUS. Would you like some coffee?” Jesus... could I be any more obvious.
“No, and you shouldn't be drinking coffee either. Caffeine isn't good for the baby, Suzanne, and I'm surprised you would do something so detrimental to its health. That’s very irresponsible of you,” he says shaking his head at me. What the hell?
“I know. I don't! I just have decaf when I want the taste, but I don't drink regular coffee anymore.” Christ! This is weird. A lecture about coffee?
“That's good. I wouldn't want to be disappointed in you again.” Again?!
“Well, I'm going to make some for myself, I'll just be a minute-”
“Do you like my shoes, Suzanne?”
Spinning around, I look at Marcus' shoes. What the FUCK?! Converse? I swear to god, everything is getting really weird. Converse?!
“Um, cute. I never took you as the Converse-type, Marcus. Cole Haans yes, but Converse?”
I suddenly burst out laughing. Okay, totally weird. But Marcus is laughing with me so I think he knows how weird this is.
Looking at him still laughing I remember how sweet he used to be to me. The memories of early Marcus are so kind and gentle. He was such a gentleman and I always knew he would be good for me back then. Suddenly remembering the kindness we had in the beginning, I find it so sad that we really weren't good for each other in the end.
But Converse? What the hell? This is so strange, and breathing slowly I realize I'm very afraid.
Suddenly, my stomach is in knots and the world is spinning around me. There is a darkness that wants to consume me, but I can't give into it. I'm too afraid this time to give into the darkness. This isn't my body anymore. This isn't Marcus' body anymore. I can't close my eyes this time because I have to protect this body for now. For Z.
Why is he here?
“Do you remember me, Honey?”
Gagging, I hold my stomach trying desperately not to throw up. Staring at Marcus shoes, gagging even harder I can't hold it in. Vomiting all over the floor near the kitchen doorway, I think I remember this.
“Do you remember me, HONEY?” Argh... Stop saying that.
Looking closely, Marcus is so still while waiting and watching me. He's so still watching me watching him. What's happening?
As the room tilts, I reach out slowly for the kitchen doorframe. In slow motion I'm watching myself fall as Marcus rushes and grabs for me. Holding me as I crumble, I remember him.
Whispering in my ear as he holds me tightly on the floor he asks, “Do you remember me, Honey?” Oh, no...
“I remember you-”
“Honey... Do. you. remember. me?” Fuck! Stop asking me that!
Oh god. This is all wrong. Looking at Marcus' shoes, I remember. Marcus was at Simmons hospital. Oh god, it was Marcus!
Sickness, spinning, screams... then silence. I remember. I saw his face. That's why I wasn't afraid of him. That's why I let him clean up my legs all those times I cut myself. That's why I let him touch me when I was young- because he did it before.
I remember him cleaning between my legs now. I remember him untying my ankles before he cleaned Dr. Simmons' saliva from between my legs. Oh. My. God.
Suddenly gasping and spinning and throwing up again at our sides, Marcus squeezes me tighter, holding both my wrists in one of his hands, while his other hand finger combs my hair. But I don't want this.
I remember.
Marcus' eyes were staring as the sickness washed over me. Dr. Simmons going down on me, licking and sucking, and pushing my thighs as far as they could go with the restraints. I was crying out but unable to move. I was tied down, restrained through the madness and chaos in my mind. I was a broken deadened body that could not move. And did not feel.
I remember Marcus watching from the bathroom doorway. Oh, I see me. Throughout the many sexual tortures, as tears spilled from my eyes, I lay frozen hearing Simmons moaning and lapping up my young body. And turning my head I see Marcus and his red converse so still in the doorway, watching as Simmons abuses me.
Moaning, “Marcus...”
Whooosh. I can't inhale. My breath is quick little hitches and broken gasps as my lungs burn for air.
I remember his eyes on me, always. He always watched and waited. Oh god... This sickness is overwhelming me. Unable to move and unable to breathe, the darkness is all around me.
Holding me tight, Marcus turns my ugly puke-covered face toward him and kisses my lips. I'm restrained by him and I. Can. Not. Move.
Oh god, it's going to happen again.
Whispering, “I didn't know what to do then so I took care of you after. He was your Doctor and I was in my second year of college. It was an accounting placement I got because of my association with the Country Club. My uncle Langdon was a member, remember? Anyway, I was only in the office but then I saw you crying once in the hall and I instantly recognized you. I knew you were Suzanne Beaumont and I had to see you again. So I watched out for you when I was there, and I cared for you after.”
As Marcus whispers his confession I'm still trapped by his hands, but I couldn't move even if I wanted to. My world is spinning and the darkness is trying to swallow me whole. There is nothing I can do but let Marcus confess his part in this.
“Um, I watched what he did to you and I liked it. I'm sorry, but I did. It was gross and rude and completely inappropriate, but I honestly liked watching. I'm sorry to admit that Honey, but I did like it.”
I have no words. I have no voice in this moment.
Continuing, he kisses my lips again, and seems to breathe his filthy confession into my body.
“I only saw what he did 6 times but I have to tell them about it today, because your mother's defense team is trying to push Simmons as the main abuser in all this. I think with your mother’s past, she's trying to say Simmons made her insane as well. It's going to come out today what I saw and what I knew, but I've been given immunity from any prosecution from the D.A. for my statement. I guess I just wanted you to know my side first. When I told her I knew about Simmons, she said I could have you, too. She knew I knew all along and that's why she gave you to me to love.” Flinch. “But now she's going to tell everyone what I knew, so I wanted to tell you first.”
I still have nothing but my silence in this nightmare.
“I'm very sorry I didn't stop Simmons. And I'm very sorry that I liked watching it, but I took care of you afterward. I did. So it’s all okay. I went to the Club every chance I got to care for you, and I told your mother that I loved you and would care for you always. And I did care for you, until you threw it all away. I cared for you, doing everything you wanted and giving anything you needed when we were together. But I never performed cunnilingus on you like Simmons did. Did I, Honey?” FLINCH!
<
br /> Shaking his head, Marcus seems to wake up to this situation suddenly. His voice is strong again and his words are no longer whispered. He sounds like the old Marcus I remember.
“Let me help you up. You shouldn't be on the floor, Suzanne. I'm sure it's not good for you in your condition.”
When I stay silent and still, Marcus lets go of my arms, turns from me, rises, and slowly picks me up in his arms again. Grunting from my weight, he begins taking me toward my room.
In this moment I'm so scared, I want to scream and fight, but my muscles won't move and I have no breath to scream.
This is the end of me.
Laying me on the guest-room bed, Marcus lifts the blanket at the end and surrounds me in warmth. Brushing my hair out of my face and bending down low, he kisses my lips again.
”I love you, Honey. Forever. But I took care of you so I did nothing wrong. You can't be mad at me, and you can't blame ME for any of this. This was all Simmons and your mother and the other men, okay?”
Nodding my agreement, I'm too afraid to do anything else. Actually, I CAN'T do anything else. My tears won't even fall from my eyes, and my breath is barely a wheeze.
I am nothing in this moment.
As Marcus climbs onto the bed, my whole body shakes with the terror. My teeth are chattering and my eyes are wide. My breathing is slow and almost a hiccup in my lungs. My world is turning dark all around me.
Fighting to find my voice, my head threatens to explode. This is the end.
When I feel Marcus grab my breast, my body flinches in pain. When I feel him begin tugging at my waistband, I know...
Dying, I finally find a little voice and whisper, “please don't r-rape me...”
This Is Me... Page 23