Oh my god, what am I going to tell Daniel? I thought. What will he think of me? What will he do? Will he believe that Tyler forced me to have sex, or will he think that I’m lying to assuage my guilt?
Shaking, I snatched several tissues from the box on the counter and cleaned my face up as best I could, then dampened and smoothed my hair, trying to put my fiancé out of my mind and focus on what to do next. I hadn’t brought my phone or a purse, since I didn’t want to worry about having to keep track of them at the party. I was trapped. I couldn’t call my parents and ask them to come get me. They’d ask too many questions. They’d want to talk to Tyler. There was no way I could tell them what he had done. I just needed to get home and climb into bed. I needed to sleep, to figure out a way to move forward as if this night never happened.
Find Mason and Gia, I thought. They can give you a ride. But then, just as I was about to open the door, a wave of nausea hit me with such intensity that I barely made it to the toilet, where I heaved until my throat burned and there was nothing left to come up. I slumped on the floor, resting my head against the wall, disgusted by the rancid stench of stomach acid and tequila. I tried to catch my breath, feeling just the tiniest bit less drunk.
A couple of minutes later, I managed to get up, rinse out my mouth with water, and head back out to the patio, where I saw Mason and Gia slow-dancing. The look of adoration on his face as he gazed at his wife stopped me in my tracks. That’s how Daniel looks at me, I thought, and a wave of sorrow rushed over me as I wondered if he would ever see me like that again. I hesitated, debating whether I could bear talking to them. But I had to. I didn’t have a choice. I walked over and touched Mason’s arm.
“Hey!” he said, smiling. “Where’d you two disappear to?”
“Tyler’s passed out upstairs,” I said, my chin trembling as I spoke. I ground my teeth together in order to get it to stop. “And I’m sick.”
“Oh no, mija,” Gia said. “You poor thing.” She sounded as drunk as I felt.
“I hate to ask, but is there any way you guys could take me home? I could call an Uber, but with the holiday and being out in the county, it might take forever . . .” Please, please, please. Don’t make me stay here any longer than I already have. Don’t make me call my parents.
“No worries. I’ll drive you,” Mason said. He looked down at his wife. “Do you want to stay, and I can come back?”
Gia shook her head. “Nah.” She swayed a bit, and her husband reached out to steady her. “I may have overestimated my ability to party like I used to.” She grinned. “I’ve had my fun. Let’s go home.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and rubbing my triceps to combat the chill in the air.
“Of course,” Mason said, but then he hesitated and looked upward, to the second story of the house. “Maybe we should take Ty home, too.”
“No!” I said, sharply. Both Mason and Gia gave me a strange look, so I quickly backtracked. “I mean, he’s really out of it. I tried to wake him up, but couldn’t. It’s probably better to just let him sleep it off and he can drive himself home in the morning.” How am I doing this? I wondered. How am I standing here, talking with them like my life wasn’t just destroyed?
“She’s right,” Gia said. “Tyler’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Mason nodded, and the three of us made our way to the front of the house, where we climbed into their car. I sat next to the empty infant car seat in the back, curling my shoulders forward, trying to make myself as small as I possibly could. I couldn’t stop shivering.
“You okay back there?” Mason asked as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road.
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice cracked, so I cleared my throat. “Don’t worry. I already threw up back at the house.”
Gia laughed, turning around to look at me. “Guess neither of us are party animals.”
“I guess not,” I said, trying to ignore the pain between my legs. Just get me home. Please. I just want to go home.
Mason glanced in the rearview mirror, making eye contact with me. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m sure,” I said, fighting back a swell of tears. “Just not feeling well.” I couldn’t imagine telling them the truth. And what would I say, anyway? I was certain that they had seen the way Tyler and I were dancing, the way I’d kissed him and let him grind his hips on mine. They wouldn’t believe that what happened up in that bedroom was against my will. They’d chalk it up to a drunk girl regretting her decision to have sex. They’d call me a liar. A cheater. A slut. Maybe they’d be right.
“What’s your address?” Gia asked, and I recited it, watching as she punched it into the car’s GPS. I sat back, closing my eyes, trying not to think, focusing as much as I could on the vibration of the tires as they hit the road, a low buzz humming through me.
For the rest of the ride, Mason and Gia talked with each other up front, but I couldn’t pay attention to what they were saying. All I could think about was getting home. When the car stopped in front of my parents’ house, I practically leaped out of the backseat.
“G’night, mija!” Gia said, turning around again. “The four of us should do dinner together, soon!” She giggled, then burped. “Oh, wow. Sorry. That was gross.”
“That’s okay,” I said, forcing a smile as I opened my door to climb out. “Good night.”
Mason exited the car, too, and stood next to me, offering his arm for support, but I didn’t want him to touch me. I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone to touch me ever again.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a quick, jerky step back from his reach. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine,” he said, with a calm, assessing gaze. I could suddenly see him in work mode, treating injured victims in their houses or on the side of the road. “Let me walk you to the door, at least.” His low tone soothed me, and so I nodded, allowing him accompany me to the side of the house, to the door that led into the kitchen, where Tyler had surprised me back in December. Mason stood at least a couple of feet to my side, giving me the space I so desperately needed. Feeling his eyes still on me, I leaned down and lifted the realistic-looking but fake rock next to the stairs that held a spare key, taking it out and slipping it into the lock on the door. “Thanks,” I repeated. “I appreciate the ride.”
“Amber, wait,” Mason said.
I stopped what I was doing, freezing at the top of the steps, my heart thumping like a jackrabbit’s leg inside my chest. I didn’t look at him. I didn’t speak. I was too afraid of what might come out of my mouth. I was afraid I might start screaming and never stop.