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“It’s my fault. I pushed you into his arms. I let you walk away without a fight because I thought you deserved better than what I could give you. I was just trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” Her brows furrow.

“Me and everything my fucked up life could do to you.”

“I’ve messed up too. It’s not all on you and I’m trying to fix it.” She hangs her head in shame.

“Let me help you.” I reach out and wipe her tears away.

She shakes her head. “You can’t. I’ve got to do this on my own.”

“What happened to you when you were younger? Please let me in and tell me because the things I’m imagining are keeping me awake at night.”

She covers her face with her hands, and I reach for her wrists and pull them apart.

“I’d never judge you. I just need to know. Please. It's eating me up inside.”

I release her wrists, and she sucks in a deep breath.

“It was my fault. I put myself in a situation I know I shouldn’t have been in and I’m now living with the consequences of it.”

“Just tell me, please,” I beg, needing to understand what she’s been through.

She adjusts her position, getting into a more comfortable one. I trail my gaze down her body where I see her twisting the bangle I gave her and I brace myself for whatever words she's getting ready to utter about her past. “When I was fifteen, I snuck out and went to a party I wasn’t supposed to be at. It was the first time I tasted alcohol. I got drunk, passed out, and a guy I had been texting filmed us having sex.”

My blood runs cold.

“I didn’t have any memory of it. I only found out when he sent the video to my dad, threatening to leak it if my dad didn’t pay him a ton of money.”

“What the fuck?” I hiss.

“My dad paid him and secured the copies of the videos and destroyed them. My parents moved us to New York. We never talked about it, but they never looked at me the same, especially my dad. It could have ruined his career. They put me in a therapy group and that’s where I met Ali and Ria. I always felt like a fraud at that group, like I didn’t have a right to be there.”

“What, why?”

“Because I wasn’t assaulted. What happened to me was my own doing.”

I blink rapidly.Is she fucking serious?

“Gabriella, what happened to you, that… that was rape.”

She shakes her head. “No, no, don’t say that. I put myself in that situation. I knew I shouldn’t have been there. I liked him.”

“Did you consent or have memory of consenting?” She shakes her head and I grind my teeth. “That’s rape, Gabriella. He took advantage of you and then used it against you.” A burn in my chest has me rubbing it with my palm. “He should have gone down for what he did. Your dad should have…” My words are cut short when sobs wrack her body and I reach out and hold her and having her in my arms sobers me. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry that happened to you. But it wasn’t your fault. You are not the villain in this story. He is. Your parents are. They should have protected you, not blamed you.”

I hold her till she stops crying, until her small frame molds into mine and I press a kiss into her silk hair. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She pulls back, wiping her tears and lets out a long breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” I ask in confusion.

“For breaking down like that. I thought I’d dealt with it all, but maybe I haven’t. It just got brushed under the carpet when it happened. Other than therapy, I never talked about it with my parents. I just spent my days trying to make it up to them, for ruining their life, moving, risking my dad’s job.”

“Is this why you’re with Patrick? To please your parents? To make up for shit that wasn’t your fault?”

“It’s complicated.” She sniffs.