Page 23 of Meet Me at the Metro (Gildenhill #1)

23

I'LL GO WITH YOU

E L L I E

“ T ell me, Ellie. Who was that?” Connor softly requests.

I can’t fight the urge to pull my eyes away from him as he asks the question again. I don’t understand why a huge piece of me doesn’t want him— or anyone, for that matter —to know. It felt humiliating to recall how I allowed John to have his hands on me like that. It felt even more shameful to acknowledge that I ever dated someone who would do that to me.

“It—it’s not anyone important.”

“Come on,” he sighs worriedly. “What’s going on? Who was that?”

For a moment, in my head, I pretend that all this stuff with John is just a bad, recurring nightmare. I pretend that I’ll be able to wake up from this and realize that none of what he’s said or done is real, but deep down, I know that delusion is too good to be true.

This is real— John is really in London now and becoming a real problem that I need to deal with. I can’t choose to ignore it anymore because doing so would make me an absolute fool.

“You can tell me. I’m your friend, Ellie,” he reminds me, and that settles deep in my bones for some reason. “What’s going on?”

“It’s John. That was John.”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Your ex-boyfriend, John— the John? How? Why is he here? ”

There’s a slight tremor in my fingers as I explain, “He got accepted for the late fall semester, so he’s in London now. He’ll be here for the rest of the year.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

Connor lets out a shaky exhale, and his lips tighten. “Why the hell was he cornering you?”

“Because he’s been trying to talk to me, but I’ve been avoiding him—”

“He shouldn’t have his hands on you like that.”

“I know,” I mutter, cutting my eyes to the stone pavement. “He’s not usually like that. He’s acting so differently, Connor, and I-I’m scared of him. I don’t know what the hell to do.”

“You tell the police and report his crazy arse.”

“Would they even be able to do anything? I don’t have any solid evidence of either one of our encounters. John would tell them I’m making it all up.”

“ Either one? How many times has this happened?”

“Just tonight,” I blurt, riddled with shame.

“Don’t lie.”

“And one other time a few weeks ago.”

“Ellie! You have to tell someone in authority before this turns serious. Hell, it already seems serious. Touching you like that isn’t okay, and you know it. You’re scared, and you have every reason to be. You need to make a report to the police, at least.”

“What would I even say?”

“You tell them the truth—that your ex-boyfriend is harassing you. You can’t let this drag out. What if something happens to you?”

I contemplate that possibility as I’ve done every night since I first ran into John at the train station. I’ve been in such denial, and suddenly, the weight of reality smothers me, stirring up a surge of emotions that have tears welling in my eyes.

“It’s going to be alright, Ellie,” Connor comforts, drawing me toward him. “Just please, for my peace of mind, go talk to them. I’ll go with you . ”

He has no idea how much I needed to hear that.

“Okay,” I relent, knowing there’s no avoiding this anymore. “ I’ll go .”

Brown leather chairs encase Connor and me as we sit patiently inside the dimly lit police station. The sound of my foot tapping nervously against the gray-tiled floors becomes a steady thrum in the room, and I try to focus on it rather than the distorted mess of uncertainty spinning around in my head.

“Miss Mattice?” A middle-aged police officer enters the quiet lobby and tears me away from my restless stream of thoughts.

“Yes,” I answer, rising from my chair.

He nods toward the blue metal doors he just came through and requests, “Follow me this way, please.”

“May my friend come with me?”

“That’s fine.”

Connor jumps from his seat and joins my side as we follow after the officer. He leads us down a narrow hallway, opening up to a large room full of cubicles, and weaves us through the maze of sectioned metal desks until we arrive at his. He politely pulls out two chairs and offers us to sit. I try to calm my racing heart as Connor and I settle into the seats, and the officer sits behind the computer in front of us. A long, few moments of silence pass between the three of us before the man finally speaks.

“So the secretary informed me that you’re looking to report an incident, right?”

“Yes, sir,” I answer, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat. “I… My, umm—My —”

“It’s okay,” Connor whispers, graciously reminding me of his support.

It gives me enough courage to speak. “My ex-boyfriend has been harassing me.”

The officer glances up from his computer screen, frowning as he assesses me. “I’m sorry to hear that. Can you tell me more? Like, the relationship between you two?”

“Well, we dated for two years back in the States—we both attend Gildenhill University now but recently broke up.”

“So you guys are international students?”

I nod.

“Do you two live together?”

“No. I live with my two roommates. I’ve tried breaking all contact with him, but I keep running into him.”

“Unwarranted? ”

“Yes, unwarranted. I try to avoid engaging with him, but he doesn’t leave me alone. He gets—” I fight past a wave of nausea— “ physical .”

“Can you clarify what you mean by physical?”

The question triggers me to recall just how physical the altercations became. So vividly, they come rushing to the forefront of my mind—the way his fist felt as it squeezed around my arm, the bitter ache at the back of my head when he had me pressed against the wall, and the way his hands scorched every part of my body that they touched.

My chest tightens, and my throat constricts as I remember it all. I hate how quickly my perception of John has turned resentful. I hate how he’s tarnished every good discernment I’d once had about him.

Connor’s hand atop mine pulls me out of my distressed thoughts. When I glance down, I see how terribly my fingers tremble.

“Tonight, I saw him cornering her against the wall. He had his hands on her and, from what I could see, was being very rough.”

“And your name is?”

“Connor. Connor Davidson.”

“And your relationship with Miss Mattice?”

“Friends,” he says. “We’re good friends. We’re in the same study program at Gildenhill .”

“Is that where the incident tonight took place?”

“Yes,” I answer, finally gathering enough courage to speak for myself again. “I was walking to my evening class.”

“And what about the other encounter? Did it take place at the University, too?”

“No, sir. It was at the train station.”

“Any witnesses to that one?”

“No,” I half lie. Theo was there by the end of it, but he didn’t see much of anything before John rushed away. At least not enough to come forward with an account of what happened. Besides, Connor is already being dragged into this mess with me. I don’t want to pull Theo into it, too. “Not for that one.”

The officer takes several moments to type up everything that’s been exchanged before he asks his next question. “And I apologize, Miss Mattice, but I have to ask… during either one of these instances, did he become sexually aggressive with you?”

“N-not exactly.”

“Not exactly?”

“I mean, I don’t know if you’d consider it aggressive, but he, umm —started to put his hand between my legs.”

“I see,” he nods. “Did he touch you there?”

I shake my head, feeling too ashamed to even look over and see Connor’s reaction, though I can feel my friend’s concerned eyes. “Connor got there before it could get to that point.”

Having to say all of this out loud feels humiliating— feels dirty . Maybe it’s because I’ve heard the accusations people have made behind other women’s backs who have gone through similar experiences, or maybe it’s because I felt like I should have done more to prevent all this.

Should I have known better with John or somehow been more aware of the potential that all of this was coming?

It doesn’t seem fair to even have to contemplate these questions.

“And just to verify because the protocol requires me to—no sexual assault has occurred?”

“No, sir.”

Connor takes a deep breath beside me during the dreadful silence that follows my answer .

The man works on his computer for several minutes, his eyes flitting across whatever’s displayed on its screen and his fingers clicking the mouse beneath his hand. Finally, he asks, “What is your ex-boyfriend’s full name? And if you know his date of birth and age?”

“Johnathan Warner.” A wicked chill licks up my spine. “Birthday is July 9th, 2002. He’s 22 years old.”

“I’m going to get him down in the system,” the police officer nods. “Is there any other pertinent information you’d like us to know?”

“No, sir.”

At that, he stands from his desk chair. “We appreciate you for coming in and making a report for all of this. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

Connor stiffens beside me. “That’s it?”

“Unfortunately. Due to the lack of evidence of the encounters, we don’t have many options for her besides getting her statement on record.”

My heart sinks low in my chest.

“I was a witness. I gave you evidence.”

“You gave us a statement, Mr. Davidson. I made sure to include it in the report.”

“So basically, you’re telling me that you just sat her through all of that so you’d have something to go off of the next time she has to come in here?”

“You two did the right thing by coming in and reporting what occurred, but at this time, there are no actions we can legally take.”

“ At this time ,“ Connor scoffs. “But maybe next time, right? When he— God forbid —manages to do something worse to her? This is insane, you know that?”

“Connor, it’s fine. Let’s just—”

“This isn’t fine, Ellie. You’re not fine. He could hurt you.”

“Look at me. They can’t do anything else right now. Please, let’s just go.”

Connor looks at me for a beat, finally softening his tense jaw, and nods. “Okay. We can go.”

I quickly pick my bag off the floor and bid the officer a goodbye. “Thank you for your time.

Connor follows me out of the station, not saying another word until we’re standing on the sidewalk outside. “That was a load of shit. They should have done more for you.”

“It’s over, alright? There’s nothing else we can do. It’s on record at least, so if it does happen again—”

“If it does happen again? Do you hear yourself right now? What if he hurts you, Ellie?”

“I don’t know, Connor! Let’s just pray it doesn’t get that far,” I fire back. He goes utterly quiet, and I immediately feel guilty. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t think I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me tonight. I just—I’ve got to have hope that this won’t reach that point, or else I might just—”

“I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I’m not trying to make you feel worse about everything. I just want you to be safe.”

“I know you do.” We begin our walk back toward campus, and my thoughts trail off to the way things were left between us after our piano lesson three weeks ago. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings the last time we were together. I never meant to make you feel bad.”

“Don’t apologize. I was the one who crossed a line. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“I wasn’t mad at all. I was just— embarrassed …”

“But you’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”

“Because I’ve felt awful about everything, and I didn’t know what to say to you to apologize properly.”

“I never expected you to apologize, Connor. You didn’t know.”

He frowns. “Yeah, but I do now. I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. That wasn’t fair of me. I want to make things right between us because I really don’t want to lose you as a friend. I’d rather have you as that than as nothing at all.”

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, either,” I admit.

Connor releases a heavy breath. “That’s a relief to hear.”

“Can we start over? Clean slate? ”

“Clean slate,” he nods, smiling. “You think Professor Henderson is pissed we didn’t show up for lecture tonight?”

“Not one bit,” I giggle. “He was probably relieved.”

“Probably,” he laughs.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket as we cross a pedestrian walkway near the school, and when I pull it out, I see a message from Theo.

Class running late?

“ Shit,” I curse under my breath, typing out a quick reply.

Running behind. Be there in 10 mins

“What is it?” Connor asks.

“Would you mind walking me back to campus?”

“Of course not. Forgot something?”

“No, I just need to meet someone there.”

Connor clears his throat but thankfully doesn’t press on about the matter. “Gotcha.”

“Thank you for everything tonight. I seriously don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

“Don’t thank me, seriously. I’m here for you. I’m sorry you’ve had such a shit night.”

I nudge him with my elbow, hoping to break some of the heavy tension clouding us. “It’s a little better now.”

As we walk alongside each other, I find myself smiling despite the shitty circumstances of the night. I’ve finally got my friend back.

“I’ve missed you,” I tell him honestly.

Connor’s smile reaches his eyes. “ Ditto .”