A/N -
TRIGGER WARNING***
THIS CHAPTER SPEAKS HEAVILY ON ABUSE, SEXUAL ASSAULT, AND SUICIDE IDEATION. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION! REFER TO THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOK FOR RESOURCES.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO....grab a snack cuz this be a long one...
. . .
"Harry, please..." Choking out my words, my legs subconsciously follow Harry's footsteps as he scurries to the front hall. "Don't leave."
Waving a dismissive hand in the air, he grabs his keys off the table, forcefully shoving them into the pocket of his sweatshirt before reaching for the door handle.
Speak now or forever hold your peace, Ev.
"I was raped, okay!" Chilling silence rings throughout the room. It is almost as if my words put Harry under Medusa's spell, turning him to stone as he freezes. The quick squeak of the doorknob is the only sound heard around us. Inhaling slowly, my hardened lungs struggle to receive oxygen. The only movement from my body is the rampant shaking of my hands as my feet are nailed to the floor and I am paralyzed.
Here goes nothing...
"I was raped.." Silent tears flood down my cheeks like water from a dam as I repeat myself. Turning around slowly, Harry's somber, forest green eyes meet my crystal blue ones. Analyzing the validity of my words, his eyebrows knit together, creating deep valleys between his eyes, as his head tilts slightly to the side.
Please don't look at me like that...
"That's-uhm-that's how I-" Sighing, I clench my hands into fists, digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands in an attempt to stop the vigorous trembling. "That's how I got pregnant with Ginny."
Harry's features soften as his lips form into a frown. Stepping forward, he places his keys back on the table and reaches out for my hand.
"Don't!" Panic fills my voice as I speak. "Please, don't touch me." Although, I really want you to. I fear my aching, trembling bones mixed with the feverish, tingling sensations of Harry's touch will overstimulate my nerves and I will end up crippling beyond repair.
Retracting his hand, his features sink deeper into a melancholy expression I never want to see from him again. Somehow, my legs carry me back to the living room where I plant myself in the corner of the couch. Crossing my legs under myself, I place my hands in my lap as my fingers begin to fidget with the chipped polish on my nails. Harry follows suit, slumping down beside me, but leaves a large space between us.
"I-I don't even...I'm sorry..." Harry fumbles with his words as an exasperated expression pans across his face. Inhaling, I try my hardest to catch my breath before I begin pouring my entire life story to this man whom I have grown to adore so fondly these past few months.
I don't even think I told Lisa all of my history with Peter in one sitting...
"You don't have to say anything yet...This is probably going to be a lot to take in and-uhm-I understand you if it becomes too much for you...But you do deserve an explanation..." Somehow I am able to formulate words better than before, but this is still proving to be one of the hardest things I have ever done. Aside from Lisa and my lawyer, no one has ever heard my story in such grave detail. Yet something about Harry eases my mind even if the future of our relationship is on the line.
Thank fucking god Ginny sleeps like she's in a coma.
With my gaze fixed on my twiddling fingers, I see Harry reach his hand out in my peripheral vision. He hesitates before pulling back. Why the fuck did I tell him not to touch me?
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