The Thread Between Danny and Me

Chapter 30: Do you still?

It took Danny a long time to say anything. I could see the anguish in his eyes as he tried to work up the courage to talk more.

"I won't hate you for whatever you're about to say next," I prompted gently.

He bit his lip, breathed in, and looked up at me. "If you do, that's okay."

"Danny I—"

"My life spiraled after you left," he said, cutting me off. "I felt horrible for driving you away, even though I told myself it was the right decision. Without you, I became real depressed and ironically, snuck out more. It didn't matter how my old man reacted. I felt like I deserved it."

I opened my mouth to contradict him, but then closed it, realizing that whatever he was about to say required absolute silence from me until it was over.

"I went to a lot of parties," Danny said. "But I never drank or did drugs. I was always paranoid about how the stuff would affect me. I didn't want to say hurtful things or...turn violent. So, to numb out, I slept around. And I...got into this unhealthy thing with Emily Saladin."

I winced, unable to help myself.

No. This isn't about you. This is about Danny and his pain. Don't make it about you. He's already having a hard enough time as it is.

But it was too late. Danny had already noticed my hurt.

"God, MJ. I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," I whispered. "You weren't supposed to see that reaction. This isn't about me."

He swallowed. "It does involve you, though. You have every right to be hurt. My actions didn't happen in a vacuum. I screwed up a lot. But...I want you to know everything, so, I'm gonna tell you about it."

"Okay."

"Emily," he sighed. "Well, you know how she was. I caved. Not blaming her, because there were others. She and I...never dated. We were never exclusive. But it lasted for a lot longer than it should have."

"Was she your first?" I squeaked.

"...Yeah."

My heart caught in my throat.

He looked devastated. "It should've been you."

"I...would never expect you to...to never have slept with someone," I fumbled. "It just stings because I know her. She was very pleased when you stopped talking to me."

He nodded. "I understand, MJ. For the little that it's worth, I never loved her. What happened between us might've been consensual, but it was still unhealthy. Emily had her own shit going on at home which also fed into it. I ended it sometime during senior year."

I exhaled. At least it wasn't a recent relationship.

"Do you have other questions about that?"

"...I don't think I want the gritty details."

"Okay," he murmured. "This is part of why I...no. I'll talk about that later. I'm trying to tell you everything in order. This next part is the hardest. I'm gonna try my best to get through it."

I grabbed his hand again. I felt it tremor in mine.

"It was senior year, towards the end. My old man had been around for a while because he decided to take a construction job close to us. And one evening, on one of my mom's off days, he was obscenely drunk. And he came at her. It wasn't the first time—usually, I'd just take it for her, but this time he'd taken a statue off the fireplace. It was a wooden carved elephant my mom had gotten when she traveled through Africa. The thing was large and solid. And I...."