The Function to Breathe

Twenty Eight

2015

"Cat, you've got to tell him." Tara puts her arm round me and pulls me towards her so that my head is resting on her shoulder.

"I know. I just... I didn't know how to. I still don't. What if he can't handle it?"

Tara sighs. "I think that's a chance you're going to have to take sweet pea, because you're going to have to tell him something and the truth would be the best place to start. You can't tell him any more lies."

"I love him Tara. I can't lose him, not again." I pull away from her and wipe my face. "Will you tell him?"

"No babe, you need to do it. He needs to hear it from you." She kisses my cheek and stands up. "I'll send him in. It'll be okay, he loves you."

I just sit staring at the floor, not even trying to make myself look any better – or any less awful – as I wait for the door to open again. I'm pretty sure that after today Ricky will never want to see me again so it doesn't actually matter what I look like now. I just wish with all my heart that I'd told him before we bought the house, before everything became quite so serious and complicated. It would have been so much easier for him to walk away even a few weeks ago, a little less hard on either of us. I just don't know what I'll do if he does. I don't think I will be able to bear it.

My heart is in my mouth as the door opens and Ricky comes in. I feel sick as I look up at him; normally after coming off stage he's buzzing and full of life, but now he looks dreadful; subdued, pale and terrified, and I've done that to him. It hurts, almost more than the flashback hurt. He closes the door and leans against it, glancing at me, his eyes clouded with doubt. "Tara said you've got something you need to talk to me about."

"Yeah," I whisper. I can barely speak, aside from the terror I'm feeling my throat hurts from crying and being sick. "Come and sit down."

He crosses the short distance to the bed and sits next to me, his hands in his lap, not touching me. Hesitantly I reach out and take his hand, holding it between both mine. I don't know if he'll let me touch him or if he'll pull away, but he does let me hold his hand, even curls his fingers round mine a little. I can feel him shaking though, and I wonder what's going through his mind.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away." I begin, not really having a plan as to how I'm going to do this. He doesn't say anything so I press on hesitantly. I realise that if I'm going to do this I just have to get it out, get it over and done with.

"This is hard. Um... I haven't been completely honest with you. Rick, when I told you I was attacked... there was more to it than that." I swallow hard and carry on, clutching his hand tighter. I need him now, I need him so badly and yet my mind is telling me that in a matter of minutes, seconds even, he might not want me at all. The thought is almost more than I can take.

"I wasn't mugged. I... I was raped." As soon as I've said the word 'raped' the rest comes flooding out. There's no going back now; I might as well get it all out. "I was raped in an alleyway, in the dark, on my way home from work. All the rest is true. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been honest with you from the start. I didn't tell you because I thought I was over it. I haven't had a flashback in years. I thought you'd never need to know. I'm sorry."

Tears are sliding down my cheeks. I feel Ricky remove his hand from mine, move closer and put his arm round me. Gently he pulls me towards him, holding me tightly, not saying anything but just stroking my hair.

"If you want me to leave I will." I continue, knowing I have to give him the option. If he wants a way out I have to give it to him, I owe him that much. "If you don't want to be with me now I understand."