Night, Forgotten

Original Edition - Chapter 16: Then

Six weeks after the night I still couldn't remember, I sat on the davenport waiting for Owen to come home from the office. I needed to tell him. Everything.

The sound of Daisy tearing down the front staircase alerted me to Owen's arrival before his key turned in the lock.

"Juju Bear?" His voice filled the entryway with warmth, even as the chilly night air burst through the front door behind him.

"Owen," I called to him from the davenport.

"What's going on?" He crossed the parlor and sat down beside me without bothering to remove his peacoat. He must have been able to tell something was terribly wrong from the look on my face.

I took a deep breath. There was no other option. There was no other truth, and I couldn't pretend any longer. I had to say the words now.

"The night of the Dolans' Christmas party, six weeks ago, I think I was raped. Someone raped me."

I couldn't look at him. But I didn't need to. He wrapped me in his arms and held me like that, without saying anything. The wool of his coat was still cold from his walk home from the commuter rail station. Owen breathed in slowly, waited for me to catch up, then breathed out.

Again. In together, and out together.

I loved him for helping me calm down like that, for using his breath, the very thing keeping him alive, to help keep me alive, too. When my breathing returned to normal, Owen created just enough space between us so that he could look down into my tear-streaked face.

"You said you think you were raped." His jaw twitched. "What the hell, Julie? How could you not be sure about something like that? Who was it?"

"I don't know. I mean, I only know I was raped because Marcus told me, and because —"

"Marcus?" Owen interrupted. "It was Marcus?"

"No," I cut him off. "Marcus is the one who found me outside, all beaten up that night. I don't think he knows much more than I do."

Owen sat back. "I'm sorry," he said. "Keep going. What happened?"

"That's the thing," I turned to face him, tucking my right leg beneath me on the davenport. "When I try to remember what happened that night, I can't. Someone must have put something in my drink, because most of the party is just wiped clean."

Owen was watching me carefully. "But somehow," I continued, "Marcus found me on his

back lawn and brought me inside. He put me in their bathtub, and that's where I came to."

"In their bathtub," Owen repeated. I nodded.

"And you don't remember anything before that?" "I just remember getting to their house."

"Well, that's fucking crazy." He stood up. "We're going over there. If Marcus won't tell us everything he knows, we can hire a private detective, track down everyone who went to that party, whatever it takes."

"No!" I said quickly. "I can't face him, Owen." "Then let's go to the police." He offered me both his hands so he could pull me up with him. "They'll launch an investigation."

"No, no, I can't." I shook my head frantically, squeezing my eyes shut. "Owen, I can't."

He collapsed back onto the davenport next to me.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. We can talk about that later."

I nodded.

"But if you don't want to report the rape, or confront Marcus, or anything, what made you want to tell me about it now? Why not weeks ago, or right after it happened?" Owen's eyes were painfully earnest. "Did I do something?"