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Sixteen

I expect hell today at work. I expect the guys trying to get my attention, to get me to talk, but I can’t. I just don’t want to exist. My father being out of the picture is a step forward, but I’m bitter.

I force a smile while at work, but I don’t go out of my way to make conversation. When all the guys come in to work on the machines, I keep my distance.

Jaxon glances at me every now and again, then Coach motions to his hands.

Instead of coming to me to take care of them, he goes to another physical therapist. His right hand is ripped up and I know why.

I was there for that.

Jaxon didn’t let me go far. I think he hesitated before taking me there, but he did it. He’s not innocent either. None of the three are.

I notice Dimitri watching me as he takes a break. He’s buff, really buff, and looks exhausted and… full of remorse. When I meet his light gray eyes, the eyes that have haunted my nightmares for years, he looks away and runs his hand through his black hair.

It’s an oddly quiet day.

Even with the call I got from the police station. Even though my knees bounce as I don’t want to deal with a trial. It still feels like a quiet day.

After Jaxon, then Knox, my dad will probably feel safer in jail as long as he doesn’t say what he’s in for. So this safety, this peace, I cling to it as tight as I can.

When I come back from lunch, I find flowers in my office. The lilies and orchids are so beautiful that I gently stroke one of the blooms. A part of me hopes it’s something from a friend, or a thanks from Coach Carpenter for all I’ve done.

The flowers are beautiful and warm, so colorful and natural and wild. I smile until I see the card.

It says Truly Sorry and is signed by all three of the guys. I glower at the flowers and wrap my hands around the stems, then throw them in the garbage .

Those assholes think that flowers are going to do anything for me? They’re salt in the wound! If they can be this understanding, if they recognize all the things that are wrong now, why couldn’t they have done it before?

They never asked me my opinion on things. They assumed. When I’d try to talk, they’d shut me up or tell me not to lie.

My throat bobs and my eyes burn.

The best kind of apology they can give me is leaving me alone. I don’t want to hear them calling me ‘sweetheart’. I don’t want them watching me. I don’t want them telling me they’re sorry. I don’t want them in my life!

It’s bad enough that Knox lives on my floor. It’s bad enough that Dimitri showed me his cock less than a week ago, acting like I wanted it. It’s bad enough that Jaxon carried me to my dad just to let him touch me before beating him up.

It’s all too little and too late.

When I walk back out into the main therapy room, I leave my office open, making sure they see I’ve rejected the stupid flowers.

Knox doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t approach me. He doesn’t do anything. Jaxon flexes his hand and shakes his head. He looks pissed and not with me.

Dimitri’s eyes go to Jared, who’s watching me with blatant curiosity. He could have stepped in. He could have done more than try to talk. He could have…

Apparently, I’m expecting too much from the world. I expect people to do the right thing, and every time, I’m let down. The police, the guys, my dad, my mom, Jared .

“Hey,” Ben says.

I jump, and he motions to my office. I force a smile. “What’s up? How’s your ACL?”

“How’s your head?” he asks.

I blink at him. He looks at me intently.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, Hope.

You don’t have to tell me anything. But if you need something, I can help.

Therapists, a new place, a way to make more money, a way to disappear somewhere else and actually be able to function…

I have a lot of reach, and if you keep making that face, I’m going to assume you need it. ”

“Ben, I’m… functioning,” I whisper, not willing to lie to him.

“If you need some backup, I’m a big guy too. Not everyone knows how slow I am,” he says with a goofy smile. “You’re part of this team, though. If you need something, if someone’s upsetting you, scaring you, anything, all you have to do is say the word and it’s taken care of.”

“I’m okay, Ben. Or at least, I will be,” I say.

“Just say it, Hope. And I’ll help in any way I can,” he says and leaves my office.

I’m well aware of what the guys on this team can do. I saw it last night. If I would have seen it seven years ago, maybe things would be different.

Since it’s not, I’m just going to have to learn whom I can trust and kick everyone else to the curb.

Because I’m in short supply when it comes to forgiveness and the only person I’m interested in forgiving is my younger self.

It wasn’t her fault, none of it was, and it’s time I accept that other people failed me, that I was a victim and that I can be more as long as I love myself enough to speak up.