Chapter 47

“I don’t know how many years it has been, but I do know that it has been far too long, and I have no sufficient evidence,” I admit with a deep sigh.

Derek only watches me, no words, no movements.

“My mother might disown me. The rest of my family doesn’t even know a thing. It’s been…I have no clue how old I was the last time I saw these people.”

He raises his eyebrows while I cross my legs and arms. Cold air overtakes the room, and I shiver in partial fear. How do I tell him the things that are in my head without possibly scaring him?

“It’s just me, Esme,” he whispers, though the tone is not exactly something a boss would usually use toward a subordinate. His chocolate eyes gleam in the fluorescent light, causing my stomach to churn heavily.

“What if I’m hit with defamation?” I ask, turning away from Derek. “All these lawsuits going on. Between my idiot husband and that disgusting bastard who touched me, what happens if someone decides my words are nothing more than lies?”

Trauma is a strange and confusing mystery. I’ve always pushed it down to avoid the truth and the drama that it can bring. But as I sit in this office with my boss—who currently knows more about me than anyone in my life—I feel the effects of the multiple years of lying.

“This was all in the past. No one knew a thing, and no one was ever going to. But now I’m going to be sharing everything to the courts like it’s all fresh in my mind.”

“Trauma doesn’t work in a linear fashion. Some people can move through the pain. Some get lost in the cycle of abuse.”

I still refuse to look at my boss as one tear slips down my face.

“If I come clean with my history and then we somehow win against Max, what happens if they find out about my past?”

“Who’s to say they’ll learn about it?”

Now I look back at Derek with confusion. “These people will do whatever they can to ruin my life. To take what I’ve worked so damn hard for.” Again, my hand starts to play with the necklace. “I can’t imagine that feeling ever going away.”

“Because we have to fight another case? Or because you want your past to remain there?”

“Come on, Derek. I’ve told you everything I can possibly remember at this point. Using my past abuse against me is a brilliant move.”

He leans forward as I stay pressed against my chair. “Clearly, I wasn’t there when all of this happened to you in the past. I know the idea of entertaining your demons sounds like hell. I can hear that pain in your voice.”

I shake my head and wipe at the next set of tears that try to fall.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t become a stronger woman, right?”

“I’ve been pretending and playing a part for so many years that I don’t think I can find that girl I used to be.”

“What about seeing a doctor? A psychiatrist and a therapist to help you through all of this? You were assaulted on my watch, after all. I should have encouraged you to seek medical care the first day.”

“Because the first thing I think about when I wake up every day is telling a stranger about all the ways I’m broken,” I sneer.

“There’s no shame in needing to talk to someone.”

“Not anymore. But there are still doctors out there who think it’s taboo to talk about my problems.”

“I don’t think this place will be like that.”

“What assures you of that?”

“Because it’s the group I used to attend. Obviously, I wouldn’t recommend seeing my same psych, but these are some of the best doctors in the city.”

Do I want to walk into the office of a doctor whose job is to constantly ask me, “How does that make you feel?”

Giving Derek the entire story about my past was difficult as it is. But to add on being sexually assaulted just a short time ago while also going through a brutal divorce, secret pregnancy, and what seem to be growing feelings for the man I work for? That sounds like someone who’s got a few screws loose.

“I told you that my marriage ending was astronomically difficult. The girls are still young but holding them when their nightmares culminate into memories of our yelling at one another puts into perspective just how much they see us breaking down.”

“I don’t think I can do any of this,” I admit.

“The job? The lawsuits? Or being honest?”

“Any of it?” I try, returning my gaze to his. It’s blurry under these tears. But telling Derek about everything doesn’t mean I’m ready for others to know, too.

“You have had multiple breakdowns and clearly, you suffer from PTSD. I think your divorce and now the attack are making things ten times harder for you.”

“Thanks, Dr. Anderson.”

He squints at me. “Esme. Whether you like it or not, this is part of your life. I’m trying to do what I can to help you.”

“And I know that,” I reply immediately. “But that doesn’t make any of this any less difficult.”

“If you see a doctor and admit your past, that’s another person who can stand up for you in court and the law. These doctors are here to help, not hinder.”

“And that, kids, is this week’s PBS special,” I deadpan.

“Why do you do that?” He pushes, moving closer in his chair. “Make a joke or act sarcastic when I try to offer you advice?”

“Habit?”

“Or fear?”

I shake my head. “You can’t expect me to have this conversation with you and then immediately agree therapy and psych is the best option for me.”

That makes him lean back and now he’s crossing his own arms. “I never expected that. Too easy.”

“Are you going to fire me if I don’t get help?” I question aloud.

“Can’t fire you for having trauma in your past.”

“But you think it’s the best?”

He nods.

“Can I think about it at least?” My voice is now more of a squeak.

“What do you want to think about?”

“Are you serious?”

He touches the arm of my chair. “I want to know exactly what you’re thinking. The more you open up and admit what that is, the more I can help you.”

“A broken record. Sounds like what you were saying in my apartment.”

“You can think about it. But tell me, what are you wanting to think through?”

Is there a right answer here? Is there an answer he’s actually looking for? The truth is, I don’t know if this is the right time for me to be hashing out my history. A divorce is painful enough.

So is an assault charge.

But do I honestly believe backtracking on my story will result in a better ending for me?

Is there ever going to be the right time?

Derek’s eyes suggest that it’s impossible. After all, his divorce was tough on everyone.

“I want to decide if I’m ready for my life to come crashing down on me.”

Derek nods. “But you know that sometimes it takes hitting rock bottom to get back up, right?”

I sniff, nodding my head in return. “Can I have a few days to think? Please?”

“Of course you can. Just don’t let yourself get wrapped up in all the guilt and fears.”

“Until recently, there wasn’t anything to worry about.”

“Peaks and valleys, right?”

“I guess.”

I stand up and sigh again, knowing I need to get work done independently, and Derek does too. It’s been an emotional day so far, and there’s still plenty more to go.

“I’ll let you get working, and I’ll speak with you later,” I say.

“Just know that I might be your boss, but my job is also to protect you. I’m here even if you don’t think that to be true.”

As I reach the doorway, I stop and look back at the taller man. “Of course, I believe that.”

“Then off you go,” he smirks.

I want to thank him or at least tell him something. But nothing reaches my tongue, and I instead shuffle my way out of the office. My legs carry me quickly down the hall.

I need to think.

But goddamn, I also really want a drink.