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“You said she flirted with you. ” Chloe braces one hand against a white column. She’s shaking so hard I can see it from here. “You never told me you slept with her. ”
Finally my voice returns to me. “He didn’t sleep with me, Chloe. He raped me. Anthony told you a lie, and I told you the truth. ”
I can tell she doesn’t believe me. At least, not yet. But for the first time, Chloe has to accept the fact that Anthony Whedon is a goddamned liar.
“I meant what I said. ” Jonah takes another step toward Anthony, which is enough to make Anthony skitter back to the steps. “Leave Vivienne alone. ”
Seeing Anthony like this—exposed, foolish, scared—is a thousand times more satisfying than I ever dreamed it could be. Someone finally stood up for me. Someone finally believed.
I take Jonah’s hand. “Let’s go. ”
Jonah only glances at me for a moment; his laser glare remains focused on Anthony. “Okay. ”
As soon as we turn toward the car, though, we hear Libby’s footsteps on the porch. I turn to see her dashing toward us, a page of her coloring book in one hand. “Here, Jonah! I picked you out a picture!”
He bends down to take it from her. None of the adults says a word.
“It’s a princess, see? I made her dress yellow, and red, so maybe it’s like a volcano dress. Do you like it?”
Jonah nods. “It’s fantastic. ”
Libby beams up at him, trusting and adoring. But Jonah can’t smile back. I know that he’s seen what haunts me most about Libby.
She has her father’s eyes.
• • •
I don’t trust myself to speak again until I’ve steered the car onto I-10. “Jonah—thank you. ”
“For what?” He sounds strained.
“For taking Anthony on. For seeing what nobody else ever saw. ”
He stares out the window at the dull jumble of chain stores that lines the interstate. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
This conversation was inevitable—I knew that—but I’m not ready. When would I ever be? “It’s a hard thing to say. ” True. Obvious. Meaningless. Jonah deserves more. “The only people I ever told were my mother and Chloe, and they didn’t believe me. I mean, the only people not counting my therapist. Because, wow, I have done some time in therapy. ”
“It never helps. ” Jonah doesn’t get sidetracked. “Your mother . . . didn’t believe you?”
“Anthony’s rich. He wanted to marry Chloe. Mom would never let herself believe anything that got in the way. Even what happened to me. ”
“And your sister? That’s what you told her the night before the wedding, wasn’t it?”
Concentrating on the road is difficult. “She only heard part of the story before she shut me up. Anthony had convinced her I was jealous of her. As if. ”
Jonah shakes his head. “I would have believed you. Don’t you know that?”
I think I always knew, though I never realized it until now. Jonah would have believed me, and that’s why I didn’t tell him. “It would have—complicated things. ”
“You don’t think I deserved to know?”
“What? Where my sexual fixations come from? Do I need to bring you in to talk to my therapist before every date?” I sound hysterical, even to myself. So I take a couple of deep breaths. “You keep your secrets too, don’t you?”
“This isn’t about me. ”
“Isn’t it?”
Jonah turns his face from me. “This is the way to the airport, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah—”
“Drop me off there. ”
“Jonah?”
“You should have told me. ” The words burst from him, so angry I wince. He sees that, and speaks more quietly, but with an effort. “I needed to know, Vivienne. ”
“It’s a difficult thing to tell. ” That sounds so inadequate.
“You didn’t think I needed to know that before I did these things to you?”
Humiliation scorches me from the inside out. “We both wanted that fantasy. It was your idea!”
“If I’d known you were a rape victim, that would have changed everything. ” Jonah won’t even look at me now.
I’m crashing. Burning. And from a greater height than ever before, because only moments ago I dared to believe that Jonah was truly on my side. For the past couple of months, I’ve been trying to make peace with my sexual desires. Now all the shame has returned in an instant. “You think I’m sick for wanting it after what happened to me. Don’t you?”