Wrong for Me

25|the phone call

TW: RAPE, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

NAOMI COLE—SEPTEMBER

MY SOBS RACKED THROUGH my body, the only sound filling our room being my crying as Dante soothingly ran his hand down my back. Something about relaying such an intense and troubling aspect of my past seemed to have broken me like a dam, my pent up emotions rushing out uncontrollably.

"I...I'm sorry," I managed out, lifting my head and ferociously wiping away at my tears.

"Why are you apologizing, sweetheart? Let it all out," he responded softly, giving the slightest bit of a smile. "And if you want...you can talk to me about it."

Other than law enforcement, family, Veronica, and a therapist, I had never spoken to anyone about this—especially not a romantic partner. My therapist had walked me through how to have this discussion numerous times, yet now that I was in this situation all that coaching had dispersed and I wanted to rush to my phone and call her.

After a few more minutes of calming myself down, I finally pulled away from Dante and sat up on the bed, gazing down at him. The look of pure anguish on his face sent a pang to my heart, letting me know that he truly felt pained by what I had told him. There was no pity, no confusion—just understanding.

I knew that telling him the full story would be one of the hardest things I could ever do; reliving all of those memories and having to worry about how this would change our relationship. I could only hope that this didn't make him suddenly become so much more cautious and careful around me—I was still the same Naomi despite his new knowledge about me.

With a deep sigh, I began with, "We met during a lecture in my freshman year and instantly hit it off. He took me on a few dates...and we started dating shortly after. At first, everything was perfect...but then he started getting angry when I would spend a bunch of time with my friends or go out without telling him where I was. One night...we got in this argument and he...he...," I paused, struggling to continue as the memory came crashing back, putting me right back in his dorm room when it happened.

"He slapped me. And when I fought back it only got worse, just for him to turn around and tell me how sorry he was and how much he loved me. And I believed him. Before junior year, we got an apartment together and that made it worse too. He wanted me to be the perfect girl for him; help him with his work, cook for him, clean for him, never go anywhere without him. And that's not me."

As I spoke, Dante listened to me intently, staying quiet and letting me just speak although his anger was radiating off him in waves and his body was incredibly tense. I didn't want to be having this conversation right now—and I sure he didn't either—but in a bittersweet way I felt that this would give him a better understanding of my position in this relationship. He would have clarity as to why I had been so upset about his criticism of the proposal and why I had cried after our first time. He would now know how to navigate times when it was on my mind and troubling me.

"One morning I didn't wake him up for work and he was beyond furious. But he was already late and I knew that he would take that anger out on me when he got home. When he did get home...he yelled and I argued back and then he...he slapped me just to apologize and beg for my forgiveness minutes later until he had me up against the wall and..."

At this point, I trailed off, the lump in my throat preventing me from continuing. I was sure he could infer what happened next, but I couldn't bring myself to repeat it. When he wrapped his arms around me yet again, pressing a kiss to my forehead I knew he understood and wouldn't press me any farther for information.

"It infuriates me that you had to go through that. No one should treat anyone—especially someone like you in that way. I know I can never say how sorry I am enough to take away the memories and the pain, but know that you can always feel comfortable to talk to me about it if you need to," he spoke softly, pushing a few braids out of my face as he gazed down at me. "But can I ask you a question?"