Asking for It

Page 110

“That’s not it. ”

Of course it is. “You hate me for giving in to the fantasy, even though you wanted it too—even though it was your idea. ”

Finally Jonah turns to me again. I wish he hadn’t. The fury in his eyes makes me feel sick inside. “You turned me into the last thing I ever wanted to be. You turned me into someone who abused a rape victim. ”

“It wasn’t abuse. Not if I wanted it. ”

“Your wrists are still raw!” he shouts.

I wince and turn away.

When Jonah speaks again, his voice is calmer—but in the tight, controlled way that tells me it’s mostly an act. “We can’t keep doing this. ”

Does he mean we can’t play our games any longer? No. He means that this is the end of him and me.

“All right,” I say. The words come out cool and polite. I sound like my mother. In our worst moments, we often revert to our worst selves. “Let’s go to the airport. ”

Jonah doesn’t speak as I drive him there, though I sense he’s waiting for me to say something. What? It doesn’t matter. The man I showed my most secret self to has rejected that part of me. The one person who looked deeply enough to find the truth turned against me because I didn’t tell him myself.

And something about my secret feeds the darkness inside him in ways neither of us can bear.

I pull up in front of the airport, by the sign for Oceanic Airlines. We are surrounded by people dropping off friends and family members, hugging each other tightly around the backpacks they wear, exchanging kisses and laughter amid nests of luggage. Jonah opens the car door, then says, “Good-bye, Vivienne. ”

It sounds so final. But I can top it. Without looking at him, I say, “Get out. ”

Thirty-two

“This is the part where you say ‘I told you so. ’” I wipe at my eyes with the Kleenex Doreen always has waiting on the end table. “Go ahead. ”

“That’s not what I’m thinking, and it shouldn’t be what you’re thinking either. ”

“Why not?” My eyes actually ache from crying. I don’t think I’ve stopped weeping since I broke down driving past Shreveport yesterday afternoon. “The most fucked-up sexual arrangement ever has now blown up in my face. Not like a grenade, like an atomic bomb. You saw it coming. ”

Doreen shakes her head. “Not this. ”

All last night, I kept staring at my phone, waiting for it to chime with a text from Jonah. I didn’t expect an apology, much less an explanation. But I can’t stop wondering what he’s thinking.

Jonah may have left my life, but his shadow will linger for a long time.

“Someone finally learned the whole truth,” I whisper. “And he hated me for it. ”

“You don’t know that he hated you. You only know that Jonah had to stop. ”

“Why else would he stop?”

“You tell me. ” Doreen gives me one of her looks, which means it’s time to dig deep.

And I remember Jonah’s words: You turned me into the last thing I ever wanted to be.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Whatever darkness that’s within Jonah—whatever fuels that fantasy for him—he doesn’t want to turn that on someone who’s actually been hurt. ”

“Jonah spoke harshly. He shouldn’t have done that. But he gets to have limits too. ”

She’s said this to me before, but about Geordie, when he absolutely could not play along with my fantasy. Those two men have drawn their boundaries about a thousand miles apart, but they’re both within their rights.

Still. “Jonah was angry. He was furious. I froze up just the way I did when I was a little kid and Mom would start screaming. ”

“Did you feel threatened?”

“Not physically. It just . . . hurt so much. Jonah had stood up for me, and finally, finally Chloe knows Anthony’s full of shit, and it could have been one of the best days I’d ever had. Instead everything fell apart. ”

Doreen nods. “Let’s focus on the good part of the day for a bit. Somebody finally believed you. Somebody finally put the blame where it belongs, on Anthony. How does it feel?”

Beneath all my sorrow, all my anger, that tiny light still glows. “Unbelievable. Like—like the whole world turned upside down. ”

“In a good way?”

“Yeah. ” Whenever I think about returning home for Thanksgiving, or Christmas, I feel apprehensive, but it’s not the dread that has consumed me for years. Anthony will never have as much power over me again, even if Jonah’s not at my side. I saw him humbled; I saw him humiliated. That memory will feed me for a long time to come.