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“Let me guess, he knew this? He knew that you were a scholarship kid?”
“I hadn’t thought about that before, but yes. Yes, he would have seen that on my record.” I nod. “So I went to his office to meet him and discuss my grades. I was panicking because I didn’t want to fail, and I only had one semester left. I was so close to graduating. But I was also so scared…”
“What happened then?” Hudson asks, then gets up off the sofa and starts to pace the living room. I grab a cushion and bring it to my front, cuddling it before I continue.
“I went to his office and took a seat. He went through my grades, and none of it made sense. He said I wasfailing from the start of the semester, but that wasn’t possible because I passed everything up until I started skipping. So he must have gone back through and lowered my grades. He told me that the only way those grades would be changed back so I could pass his class was if I showed him my gratitude,” I say, and Hudson stops pacing to look right at me.
“What the fuck?” He’s not happy about any of this, that much is clear. I squeeze the cushion tighter, feeling extremely vulnerable, my heart pounding, but I know I need to push through.
“I didn’t know what to do or what to say, so I just sat there quietly. Scared. Shocked. My body almost couldn’t move. I felt like a deer caught in headlights or something. He stood up and walked toward me, leaned over my chair, and ran his hands through my hair. Then he said that a good first step would be for me to get on my knees… and… and then he started to undo his belt.” My voice quivers as my anxiety makes it feel like I’m shaking from the inside out. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t help because all I see is the visual of him that day. Hearing it all out loud makes me feel sick to the core. I’ve had it so bottled up for so long, my therapist the only person who knows.
Hudson remains quiet, staring at me in what looks like shock and rage.
“When I heard the clink of his belt, full-blown panic took over my body, and I bolted up from the chair. The movement caught him by surprise, because he stumbled back, not expecting it. His pants were around his ankles, so he kinda tripped but caught himself on the desk. Itgave me enough room to rush past him to the door, but…” I have to pause as my eyes water.
Hudson rushes to me, kneeling on the floor at my feet, grabbing on to my hands and pulling me close to his chest as my tears start to fall.
“He had locked the door,” I choke out. “I didn’t realize he had. He must have done that when I walked in for the meeting. I just got it open when he slammed it shut and crowded me against the door. I could feel him… hard… on my back, and he buried his head into my neck and sniffed me. And then he said that I could go, but I wasn’t to say a word to anyone; otherwise, my mother would not survive her next round of treatment and that he also expected to see me in class the following week.” It isn’t until I finish the story that I feel my cheeks are wet and I’m fully sobbing. Hudson holds me tight, rubbing his hands up and down my back.
“It’s okay. I’m here, you’re safe. Lacy baby, I’ve got you,” he whispers, and my breaths calm little by little. Pulling back from him, I dry my eyes.
“I’m fine. It’s just a lot to revisit,” I explain, feeling that our romantic last night in New York is now ruined.
“What happened after that?” Hudson asks, and I shake my head.
“As soon as I left his office, I went straight to the administration team and told them I needed to finish my remaining subjects remotely due to my mother’s ill health. It was all on record that I might need to do that anyway, given her condition, and so I swapped to all online professors, moved back home, and I never saw him again.”
“So you never went back for your graduation ceremony?” Hudson asks, and I shake my head once more. Wearing the black robe and hat is a rite of passage for every college student, but there was no way I was setting foot back at that college.
“And you never told anyone?”
“There’s no point. There are no witnesses, and no one would believe me over him,” I say, my tone one of dejection.
“Is that who messaged you that day in my kitchen? You got a message and your face just went white,” he asks, and I nod slowly. “Connor mentioned that you got flowers at the office?”
I swallow roughly and nod, knowing this is only going to upset him more.
“He sends me letters, emails…” I start to say, and Hudson’s expression turns furious.
“He still contacts you?”
“All the time. Calls me, texts me, but the flowers were new. He hasn’t done that before…” I tell him as nausea rolls through me.
“His behavior is escalating,” Hudson says, thinking to himself for a moment.
The silence makes me nervous, so I can’t help but blurt, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just—”
“Don’t apologize. Everything in your own time, Lacy. But I’m here for you. I want you to know that.”
I take in a deep breath, feeling a little lighter for sharing as I look into his eyes and see the support and protectiveness there.
“I know some people at that college. What was his name?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. I don’t want to ever think about it again. But I wanted to be honest with you.”
“He is still trying to contact you, Lacy—hell, unwanted calls, emails, and now flowers. It isn’t right.”
I know what he is saying is true, but I just can’t think about it. “I can’t…” I whisper, my heart pounding.