Accepting Owen (Emilia's Perspective)

Chapter Eight

~ trigger warning: talk of s*xual assault, suicide attempt. You can probably skip this chapter if needed ~

"So, you went to school with my brother? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I honestly have not been thinking about your brother. At all," he said, smiling widely. "He has this really beautiful sister that's been keeping me up at night taking all my attention."

I giggled happily. "That's the perfect explanation."

"Now, please, tell me, where would you like to eat?"

I sighed. "Can we just order pizza or something? I don't feel like going out tonight."

"Of course we can." He pulled my hand from my lap and squeezed it. "I actually really appreciate you being honest with me."

"About not wanting to go out?" I asked incredulously.

"I just appreciate you telling me how you feel, truthfully. It might seem insignificant, but we have to feel comfortable telling each other little things first before we can tell each other the big things."

I shrugged. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. All you have to do is ask. I don't have anything to hide, but some of the stuff might be hard to hear."

"Like what?"

I took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"If you're comfortable telling me, I want to know everything about you."

I licked at my teeth quickly, deciding to go for it. I'd always told myself when Dad chose my husband I would be honest with him about what happened. "When I was fifteen, I snuck out to a party. I got drugged and raped." I was silent for a second, waiting for his reaction, but all he did was tense slightly. "I called my brother, because he was at a girl's house down the street. He called my dad, and they came and got both of us-"

"Both of you?"

"Yeah, they picked me up, and put the guy in the trunk, and then killed him."

He seemed to be trying to process everything I'd said. "Did you... know him?"

"No. I don't even know what his name was. He fell asleep..." I laughed from the awkwardness and tension inside the car. "When he was done, he fell asleep next to me. He probably fell asleep thinking he would never get caught, and then he woke up to my brother and my dad."

"That's why you tried to kill yourself?" He asked.

"Yes. It was really hard for me to feel like he'd never pay for what he did. Sometimes I felt guilty. He was just a kid, too. He couldn't have been older than nineteen, and I effectively ended his life-"

"No, no. You did not." He shook his head, and kissed the back of my hand, still clasped in his.

I noticed then that it looked like tears were welling up in his eyes. "Don't cry for me. I'm okay. I-I went through counseling. I spent some time in a hospital, because my family didn't have any idea how to help me. I learned from it. I healed from it. It no longer has power over me."

A tear rolled down his cheek as he blew out a quick breath. He cleared his throat before saying, "But I heard your brother. You were trying to save yourself-"

"And I have. That was physical, but I have never shared that level of emotional connection with someone else. I don't think he stopped me on my journey. He temporarily knocked me off my path, but he didn't stop me." I watched as his face twisted in pain, and I felt pain in my chest. "Please, don't," I begged.

He parked in the driveway and turned to me. "I am angry even if you aren't anymore. You're mine. He took advantage of you. He hurt you. He caused you so much pain and you could have ended your entire life because of his actions. I don't give a fuck if he was just a kid. He..."

I unbuckled my seat belt and crawled over the console into his lap. I took his face in my hands and looked down into his eyes, trying to show I wasn't in pain anymore. "It's okay to be angry. He shouldn't have done it. No one should ever do that to another person. And it shouldn't have happened to me. I didn't deserve, but nobody deserves that. I learned to be careful that night, to watch what goes on around me. I learned how to fight for myself."

He was crying silently, holding my waist tightly, nodding along to everything I said.

"I learned how tough my brother is, because he wanted to kill him in his sleep, but he fought through the anger to make sure he didn't put our family at risk," I continued. "It's not right, and it will never be okay. But I took the time to learn how to take the power back for myself. I know that I am loved, and I feel safe with you. I don't think I've ever felt emotionally and physically safe with someone before. I am happy, now. I did want to die, for awhile, but look at me now. You're going to be my husband tomorrow, so I need you to tell me that you don't feel sorry for me. He's gone. The person that hurt me can never hurt me again."

He pressed my neck so my head was laying on his shoulder. "I can tell you I feel sorry for who you were then. I feel for the fear that you felt. I know you're stronger, now." His arms wrapped so tightly around my waist I thought he might crush me, but I knew he needed to feel me close to find comfort. "I'm so sorry, Emilia. I would never- I couldn't even- If you're ever uncomfortable with me, just tell me, okay? Please, just tell me to stop and I'll stop, okay?"

I nodded, still feeling the pain in my chest because of how hurt he was. "I promise, I will tell you if I'm uncomfortable." I gripped his cheeks and kissed him softly. "I didn't mean to upset you so much. Look, I'm in your arms, aren't I? I'm safe. You have me right here. I'm yours. It's all okay." I kissed his lips again. "Can we go inside now? Your seatbelt buckle is really fucking up my kneecap."

He chortled. Finally, a smile was back on the beautiful man's face. "Yes, we can go inside now."

I kissed him one more time, just to be sure he was feeling better, before opening the door and jumping out. I sprinted for the door, but he seemed to realize I was racing because he caught up to me quickly. I was pulling on the screen door when he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up, putting me behind him as he put his key in the deadbolt.

I wiggled my body back in front of him and slid through the door, narrowly, before he did. "I beat you!" I mocked.

"You're small, so of course you did." He picked me up again, wrapping my legs around his hips and holding me up by my bottom. "You're light, too. I could throw you around like a pillow."

"Or you could wear me like a backpack," I joked.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He said, laughing so hard his eyes were closed.

"What's wrong with me is my brother calling you Sammy. Were you friends?"

"I don't think this is the 'talk about your brother' position. Maybe I'll put you down." He leaned forward so my hair was touching the floor as I clung to his neck, squealing.

"Don't drop me!" I screamed.

"I won't drop you." He pretended to let go for a second, then grabbed me again and straightened up. "Oops, I almost dropped you!" He mocked. His laughter was so infectious.

We never even ate dinner, we just giggled and teased until we made our way to the bedroom. Our lips danced more like we were high-schooler's, instead of a couple about to be married. We were unsure of of each other's boundaries and preferences. We made out for hours as the sun set and darkness overtook our part of the world. Finally, when we were yawning too much to enjoy kissing, we curled up together in his bed and fell asleep.