Please Don't Forgive Me

“Where did Dane take you?” he asked softly into my hair. He knew the question was a long shot, but I suppose he figured that it was worth a try.

“Can we stop for today, please?” I begged. “I can’t do this anymore Garrett.” I looked up at him and hoped he would say ‘sure, we’ve accomplished enough,’ but I knew that this was Garrett, and that would never happen. He shook his head—a silent ‘no.’ “Why?”

“Because,” he sighed, “we’ve gotten so far. I just want you to tell me how you ended up where you did. Once you tell me that much, I’ll stop. Once you get that far, the rest can wait.” I sighed and stared at my feet. I was wearing striped toe socks. They looked bright and happy—the complete opposite of myself.

“He lied.” It was a simple statement. Dane had lied to me. Dane had made me think that he was the good-guy; the nice guy. Garrett opened his mouth to speak, but I put my hand up. I didn’t want to be asked another question. I wanted to tell the rest of the story at my own pace. “When we were out at dinner and I was texting you, asking about the show, he got annoyed. We didn’t click, but he still seemed like a nice guy.” I stopped and looked up at Garrett. He knew what happened, so why the hell did I have to tell him?

“What about after dinner?” The warmth and concern in Garrett’s voice was the only thing that made me want to continue.

“He brought me home and walked me up to the apartment. He said goodnight and then he left.” I looked at the wall and then at Garrett. “I took a shower and went to bed.”

“What about when you woke up? What had happened?”

“He had gotten inside, and he was lying next to me. He had taped over my mouth and tied my wrists together. He had me trapped.”

“How did you end up where you did? Where did you end up?”

“I don’t remember how I got there. I just remember being inside of a garage where it was damp and dirty and dark. I remember being locked in there for days.” I tried to keep myself from breaking down again, but I knew it was no use. I couldn’t stop it.

“Its okay, Anika,” he soothed, “you’re safe now. You’re with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“Garret,” I whispered—my voice about to crack, “I’m scared. He hurt me,” I choked.

“I know, Ani. I know.” He held me close to him and let me cry—again. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there to protect you. I’m so sorry Anika.”

“It isn’t your fault.”