“Female?” I scoffed.
“Tell me the truth,” he growled. Angry glowing eyes peered back at me. I don’t know whether to be scared or to be angry. Who does he think he is? I don’t have to tell him anything. He’s not my alpha and I don’t need to answer any of his questions. I don’t even know who he is.
“I had sex with my boyfriend, Alpha. I don’t see why I would have to explain that to you,” I said. It came out more aggressive than I meant to, but dammit, my fight or flight mode had been activated. Instead of running, I lifted my chin, squared my shoulders and looked him in the eyes. His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed as Andrius tried to take the reigns. “I don’t even know you,” I said.
“Kai.”
“What?” I asked.
“My. name. is. Kai,” he said. He inhales deeply, his chest expanding and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to drop my eyes and stare. He closed his eyes and cracked his neck. When he opened his eyes again, Kai was gone, and Andrius was back.
“These bruises don’t say that you had sex with your boyfriend,” he said in an eerily calm voice. The ones on the inside of your thighs, maybe, but the rest of these?” He shook his head. His fingers grazed over them one by one as he looked at them. I refused to look, I stared at his face as he touched me. “There are bruises all over your body,” he states.
He says it as if I don’t know, as if I haven’t spent the last couple of days pretending I don’t see them. He says it as if he needs to remind me as if I don’t feel them when I bump into something or when Levi was holding me last night. I ignore how close he is, his fingers trail over my hip.
“When you make love to your partner, you don’t hurt them like this,” Andrius said.
For some reason the thought of him with someone else doesn’t sit right with me, but I brush that feeling aside. A thought crosses my mind and before I can think it through word vomit comes up and out of my mouth.
“Well, obviously we didn’t make love,” I said. I pushed his hand away from me and cross my arms in front of me protectively.
Andrius moved off of his seat, he kneeled down in front of me. He unfolds my arms and holds my hands. He squeezes them firmly and stares into my eyes.
“There’s making love, there’s fucking, and there’s dominating,” Andrius said. “This wasn’t any of those three things. Even those… even those of us that like it rougher… harder… we don’t take pleasure in this. This is abuse, Amia. This isn’t okay,” Andrius said firmly. “I’m trying to talk to you, honestly talk to you. I’m not your Alpha, but I am someone who doesn’t like abuse. I’m not someone who can stay quiet about it, or pretend it when I’ve clearly seen it.” He’s eye level with me now so I can’t really look away. I fight a shudder when his fingers start making little circles on my hands. “It’s never okay to hurt a woman. I highly doubt you wanted this,” he said.
He’s right, he’s one hundred percent right and yet what am I supposed to do? This is all I’ve ever known. This was an everyday occurrence, no, not was, is. This is an everyday occurrence. I told myself that I would never be my mother, but here I am making the same choices she did. I told myself that I would never be that person, I told myself I would never be her and I wouldn’t make the same mistakes she did. But saying and doing are two different things.
I understand how hard it is now, to turn from someone who is supposed to love you, yet hurts you. I don’t want to live that life, I don’t want to live my life with someone who beats me, and there it is. Tears blur my vision and stream down my cheeks without permission. The truth of my situation hits me.
Is there better?
No. That’s not where my mind should be. I shouldn’t be thinking about who will treat me right. I need to think about doing what needs to be done. The fact of the matter is that I don’t expect better because I’ve never seen it. If I want to stop the wheel of generational trauma from continuing with me I need to choose differently. I need to act differently. I need to change.
“When I saw you last, you were a virgin, and today you’re not. On top of that you’re covered in bruises,” he said in that calm voice. I try to focus on the smooth rocking of the boat. I repeat my mantra in my head.
Everything’s fine.
I’m fine.
Everything is okay.
I’m okay.
No.
Nothing is fine. I’m not fine and maybe it’s time I stop pretending. That’s all my mom does when he’s not beating her up. She smiles and pretends when her eyes are black and blue, she carries on like her voice isn’t broken from screaming, and she cleans up his mess like her hands aren’t shaking. If I’m going to break this, if I’m going to stop this, I need to admit that I’m not okay.
“Amia…” his calm voice calls my name like he’s been doing it for years. “Amia…” he says. I open my eyes, answering his call. I look into his eyes and see the understanding written all over my face. Tears continue falling against my will. When I’m sure my voice won’t crack, I speak. This isn’t the time for me to do this and he isn’t the person I need to face.
“He’s all I have,” I said.
“You don’t have a family?” Andrius asked. How do I answer with the truth when my truth has changed?
“I do… if you can call them that. I’m… the relationship between me and my mom is… on the mend,” I said. It’s not a complete lie. At this point, his fingers have stopped drawing circles. “Between my home and school life, he’s all I’ve got. Or… had. I do have… friends who care about me.”