“Well, I have your file here. It seems the hospital went ahead and had your rape kit sent over to the criminal lab where it is being stored. That, along with the eye-witness report, well, you have a solid case.”
“Umm, so there was someone there? I don’t remember . . .”
“Yes, ma’am. Let me pull up his statement.” It takes a few seconds before he continues, “Okay, according to his statement, he heard screaming in the alley. When he came into view, you were knocked unconscious. He was the one who called 911 and waited with you until the ambulance arrived.”
My hands begin to tremble as I think about someone being there with me. It makes me almost feel embarrassed just thinking about someone seeing me like that—beaten and naked. That night begins to replay in my head: the screaming, the weight of him on top of me, his grunting, watching his fist before he slammed it into my face.
“Umm . . .” I mumble out in a shaky voice and wipe away a few tears that are now rolling down my cheeks. “Do you know who? I mean . . .”
“Give me one second.” I hear him tapping the computer keys when he continues, “Last name is Campbell. Ryan Campbell. Seems he owns the building where this happened.”
Suddenly the air is sucked out of me, and the sensation of pinpricks overtakes my body as I turn cold.
“Ma’am?”
The phone slides out of my trembling hand and tumbles down the wooden stairs. I’m frozen and I’m shocked. Ryan? I begin to wonder who the man is in the other room; the man I trust. Why didn’t he ever tell me? Was this all a game to him? My stomach churns, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. How could he lie to me, deceive me?
I start taking deep breaths as I reach my hand up, grab onto the banister, and pull myself onto my wobbly legs. I need to get out of here.
Gently easing the door open, I quietly pad across the room and pick up my purse. I look down at Ryan, who is still sleeping, and I feel pieces of my heart crumbling and falling hard into the pit of my stomach. I’m so embarrassed. No wonder he was so patient with me; he knew all along. How could I be so stupid? How could I have let my walls down like this?
I fumble with the necklace around my neck, and suddenly, everything feels like a lie. If he truly ever thought I was fierce, it was just a product of his deceit. I clench the bar of the necklace and yank on it, breaking the delicate chain. I look down at the engraving, and I feel like an idiot for allowing another man to strip me bare.
When the tears begin to fall, I set the necklace on the nightstand, and I turn my back and leave. Quickly running down the stairs and out the door, I run to my car as fast as I can and throw it into reverse. All the wounds I’ve tried so desperately to mend are slowly starting to rip open as I start putting together all the pieces. The way he looked at me the first time he walked into the coffee shop. He knew me. He never pushed me because he knew exactly who I was. It was all a lie. It was all a sick game, and I was the fool who fell in love. What the fuck is wrong with me?
As soon as I get home, I run into my room and shut the door behind me. Still trying to make sense of everything, I fall onto the bed and cry. I cry for a long time. I’ve never felt so hollow, so completely hopeless. When I can move, I roll over and grab my pillow to bury my head in it while I sob. Gasping for breath, I smell the remnants of his scent that linger on my pillow. I jump out of the bed and frantically start ripping the covers and sheets off, slinging them across the room.
“Candace?”
Startled, I turn to see Ryan walking into my room and closing the door behind him.
“Get out,” I seethe.
“Babe, what’s going on?”
Holding my arms out in front of me, I tell him, “Stay away from me.”
His brows are knitted together as he looks at me in confusion. “Baby, what happened?”
I begin to cry harder and back myself against the wall. “You know exactly what happened. You know exactly who I am!”
Standing in the middle of my room, he doesn’t say a word as his face slowly turns to shock, and I know he knows exactly what I mean.
“How could you?!” I scream.
Shaking his head, he says, “Babe, let me explain.”
“Explain what?! That you’ve been lying to me this whole time? That you’ve just been using me? Why?!”
“No! It’s not like that. I didn’t know.”
“How could you not know? God, I’m so fucking stupid.”
“I didn’t know when I first met you. I didn’t know until I saw your tattoo.”
“What?!”
“Babe, please let me explain.”
“Get out!”
When he doesn’t move, I scream, “Get the fuck out! I don’t ever want to see you again.” My legs can no longer support me, and I fall to my knees, sobbing—breaking.
“Just leave me alone.”
“I’m not leaving,” he says as he moves and kneels down in front of me.
“I fuckin’ hate you. You made me fall in love with you, and it was all a goddamn lie.”
“God, Candace. Please let me explain.”
When he reaches out to touch me, I snap. “Get out! Get the fuck out!”