“Nay, you’re not over it. Who cares about should be?”
I nodded, wishing she was right but also fighting back tears, because I could see people like Anita shaking their heads and telling me it was my fault. If I could put up with him on my own, I wouldn’t have to face more of their judgment. “No, it’s too late for that.”
“But if they knew about Davis and what he did—”
“I just have to deal with him. I did it before. I can do it again.” I hope.
Felicia’s silence spoke volumes. She disapproved of my solution. “Are you going to tell Jake?”
“No.” I didn’t want to chance him intervening and things getting worse, and I knew he would intervene. “I’m not telling anyone else.”
“You sure?” Felicia asked. “He should know, Nay.”
I’d managed this alone for so long, I didn’t know how to tell Jake. The idea of coming clean, sharing every shameful thing with him, turned my stomach. Telling him I was still allowing it to happen was out of the question. Felicia was right, but something held me back, some deep-seated urge to keep myself protected. “I’m sure.”
“Goddamn, fucking, shit-eating motherfucker,” Felicia muttered on the other end of the phone.
Thirty-five
Jake flew into Midway on Saturday night, and I greeted him with a sign reading “Captain Calculus.” It had been a few days since the meeting, and I willed myself to pack away the wild array of emotions I was feeling. That was a little easier the moment I saw Jake, and thirty minutes after stumbling through the door of my apartment, we huddled together, on the rug next to my couch.
“You should remind me of all the reasons I should only recruit clients in Chicago.” Jake toyed with the hem of my skirt. The same skirt he’d pushed up my hips when he’d pulled me down on top of him.
“You didn’t get this kind of welcome in Boston?” I teased, tickling at his ribs.
“This is a uniquely Chicago greeting.” He trailed his finger down the side of my face, then added, his voice softer, “I missed you.”
His eyes took in every inch of me, every curve and flaw, until I glanced away.
He gently pushed my chin up so my eyes met his again. “Why do you do that? Every time I look into your eyes, you look away.”
My cheeks heated. “I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Just a habit, I guess.”
“Did some horrible boy in middle school tease you in a failed attempt at flirting and make you wary of male attention?” A grin emerged on his face.
“Would you go beat him up for me?”
“Of course. Unless he’s a really big guy now, in which case I would write him a strongly worded email.”
His smile faded back into a serious expression. “Does it bother you? I can try to stop.”
“No.”
Jake stared at me with this intensity sometimes, like he could see into my head.
“It’s nothing,” I insisted.
He remained silent but continued to rub his thumb over the back of my neck in long, slow sweeps. He’d told me about his past; perhaps Felicia was right, and it was time to be a little brave.
“I’d been at TU for a year as a new professor. I was young, green, eager. Anyway, I met this guy, another professor; he was older, good-looking, well respected on campus.” I tried to think back to how I’d initially seen him. “We started dating. And it was good.” I paused, gazing down at the floor, trying to remember the signs I should have seen in those early months. “For a while it was good.” I glanced up, but Jake’s expression was inscrutable. “We were together a little over two years, but he wasn’t always kind; he—”
“Did he hurt you?” Jake’s muscles tensed.
“He . . .” I touched his forearm, bracing myself for the admission and deciding how much to share. “He wasn’t kind. He could be aggressive and . . . cruel.”
“Did he hit you?”
I dug my nails into my palms, remembering the rough shoves into walls, the sting of slaps, and how I’d curl up into a tight ball in his bed when he’d finished. “It doesn’t matter.”
That shame I’d internalized over the years was a chill spreading across my back like the scrape of long, bony fingers. I didn’t want to be a victim, especially not in front of Jake, so I pushed the thoughts aside. I shuddered, hoping he wouldn’t notice, hoping I could keep the emotions tucked away until I was alone.