The Truth About Unspeakable Things by Emily Myers (people reading books txt) 📗

if I didn’t allow anyone else in my world to know the truth, then maybe one day it would go away. If no one else knew, no one else would see me and treat me like a victim. I could pretend to be strong until I actually was. But . . . it didn’t work. And ever since Julian and I first connected, I’ve had to acknowledge there is something holding me back, something keeping us apart.

I’ve told myself I’m not ready for a relationship, that Julian and I are just friends, and the second things got real between us, I pulled away for the sake of crossing some non-existent line. But the truth is, I was scared. I am scared. Because deep down I know I can’t be with him until I open up about what happened to me.

“Emma? Are you with me?” Kat asks. I nod, my eyes wet with realization. Kat returns my nod and let’s go of my hands. We sit in silence.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to . . .” Kat finally says.

“No,” I tell her. “Don’t apologize.” I pull my knees into my chest and melt into my chair. Even still, I search my mind for a way around the inevitable. Finally, I’m forced to accept the truth.

“I . . . I think I’m going to talk to someone,” I say, my voice hoarse with emotion.

Kat shifts in her seat. “Like . . . like a lawyer?” she asks.

I close my eyes and pray. I pray for guidance, for wisdom, and for protection. If I do this, it won’t be easy and . . . it might even be dangerous. Beaux is—well, in all honesty, I don’t know what he’s capable of. I never imagined he’d cheat on me, much less violate me the way he did. He hid that side of him well. And now, I’m left wondering, what other sides have I not seen? What other terror is he capable of?

“Yeah,” I finally say, opening my eyes. “But . . . before I do,” I tell her, sitting up straight. “You need to know the whole story.”

“What? What part don’t I know?”

I take a deep breath and one last sip of my coffee. It’s cold now, just like my body.

“The other day at Mimi’s wasn’t the first time I’ve seen Beaux since the night our engagement ended,” I reveal. “It was four months after, and you weren’t here.”

Chapter 15

“Kat! I need your help,” I say, knocking on her closed bedroom door.

The bed creaks as I imagine Demetri finds his way off Kat. Her bare feet thud lightly against the hardwood floors as she bounces toward the door. The pit in my stomach grows as I imagine Julian and I in a similar situation.

On Monday night, he asked me over—for Friday night, that is. I struggled to answer him, partly because I was surprised at the request and partly because I didn’t know what to say. I admitted to Kat that I want more with Julian, but what does more look like? Is it more kisses, more hangout sessions, full-on dates, or is it even more than that? The sounds Demetri and Kat make during their more and more frequent sleepovers makes me queasy, pale, and sweaty. Is that what Julian thinks will happen tonight?

If Kat hadn’t had been home when Julian came knocking, it’s likely I would’ve denied his request, not because I don’t want to spend more time with him, but because of how I’m feeling right now—nauseous and on-edge.

Kat swings the door open, and the small breeze is pleasant against my clammy skin. I’m wearing skinny jeans and a long-sleeved black turtleneck. Need I remind you that it’s eighty degrees and humid in the lovely New Orleans.

“Yes,” Kat breathes, looking me up and down. “Yes, you do.”

Kat, flushed and half-dressed, takes me by the arm and leads me back into my room.

“Okay, start stripping,” she says as she moves toward my dresser.

“What?”

“We agree you need help and the place to start is that outfit. You’ll melt before you make it down our front steps, let alone up his.”

“Fine,” I say, yanking the turtleneck over my head. I instantly feel better, though my nerves escalate as I picture Julian brushing up against my exposed skin.

“Emma. Emma?” Kat asks, pulling me back to the present. I jump and realize I’m palming the discarded sweater like it’s a stress ball. “Okay, I think you need to sit down,” she says, helping me to the edge of my bed.

I pull a pillow over my chest and exhale.

“Emma, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted this?” Kat asks, sitting next to me.

“I do,” I nod. “But I’m not sure what this is and it’s . . . it’s scaring me,” I admit. “I like spending time with Julian. I even like kissing Julian, and I . . . I’d like to get to know him better. But it’s like, tonight just makes everything feel so real,” I tell her. “Tonight, I’m going over to his house, his house, alone, and . . . it’s like a real date. And I haven’t been on a real date, let alone a real first date in—I can’t even remember the last time.”

“Okay, breathe,” she says. I follow her instructions. “Julian is not Beaux or any other asshole who would push you too far too quickly. Tonight, you’ll go over and have dinner. He may even play the violin, which you love,” she tells me. “It will be a nice night and only what you’re comfortable with will happen. If not, you’ll kick his ass and then I will,” she says with a laugh. I smile and nod.

“Now, take those jeans off. If you’re not comfortable with dressing to impress Julian, then at least dress comfortably,” she tells me.

I exhale and finish undressing. Kat shuffles through my dresser and tosses my favorite blue jean shorts at me. They’re a medium wash, high waisted, with frayed edges around the thighs. I slip them on and relax into their stretch. Sticking with black, Kat finds a black muscle tank that covers my chest but exposes my arms. It’s soft too.

“There,”