One Week Girlfriend (One Week Girlfriend, #1)(48)

I stare at her, desperate to confess. Scared of her reaction. I part my lips, but the words won’t come. It’s like the world is sitting on my chest, crushing my heart and turning it to dust.

“Can I guess?” Her voice is so soft, I lean in to hear her. “I…I have my suspicions. Can I ask you questions and you answer me yes or no?”

What she suggests is the coward’s way out. And considering I’m pretty much a coward at this very moment, it’s the only way out for me.

So I nod.

Breathing deep, she takes a step back, leaning against the dresser behind her. “Whatever happened to you in your past, happened here, didn’t it? Not in the guesthouse but here, at this house. Not at school, not anywhere else, right?”

I swallow hard and nod once.

“Okay.” She presses her lips together, her eyes clouded with what looks like worry. “I think…it has to do with Adele, doesn’t it?”

I’m silent. Paralyzed. I want to say yes. I want to run. She’s so close. So close to figuring it out and then I realize she probably already has figured it out, and I’m so full of shame, I want to throw up.

“Yeah,” I say on a ragged breath, rubbing the back of my hand across my mouth. I swear I’m going to puke.

Fear is in her eyes as she looks at me. Sympathy and worry and tears I don’t want her to shed for me. “She—she molested you, didn’t she?”

I shake my head, shocked at her choice of words. “She didn’t molest me. I knew exactly what I was doing with her.”

Fable’s mouth drops open. “What?”

“We were having an affair. That’s it. No molestation, no her touching me when I was a little kid. She went after me, seduced me, I fell for her, and we had an affair for years.” I spit the last words out, so disgusted with myself I can hardly see straight. “There Fable. There’s your answer. Now that you have it, what do you think? I’m disgusting, right? Sneaking around with my stepmom, having her slip inside my room in the middle of the night. Fucking her furiously again and again. She always knew how to get me hard and I couldn’t stand how easily she had control over me.” I’m shaking, my breath is stuttering in my lungs and my teeth are chattering. I can’t f*cking believe I just said all that. I told her everything. Everything.

Fable just stands there gaping at me, her eyes still flooded with tears. “How—how old were you when this first started?”

“Almost fifteen.” Horny as f*ck, too. Adele knew it. She was beautiful, mysterious. She flattered me, flirted with me and I responded. She’s only eleven years older than me, she’d tell me we had more in common than she and my dad did, and then the next thing I knew, she was sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, touching me. Going down on me, making me come so hard, I thought I would black out.

I was young, full of hormones and eager to f*ck. Constantly. And despite the shame and the hatred I had for myself and for her, I secretly wanted her to get me off. Sought out her attention because for a brief moment, I felt wanted, desired, loved.

And after, when she’d leave me alone in my room, I was ashamed. Disgusted. Full of hate for her and for myself. For my dad, who was completely blind to it all. For my mom, who died when I was young and wasn’t there to protect me.

“You were a child and she took advantage of you, Drew. That’s not an affair between two consenting adults, that’s your stepmom molesting you.” Her voice is shaking, her entire body shakes, much like mine, and then she does the craziest thing.

She runs to me and grabs hold of me so tight, like she’s never going to let me go. She’s crying, sobbing into my shirt and I slowly slip my arms around her and hold her close. I have no tears, there’s no sadness welling up inside me. I’m emotionless. Blank. I think I might be in shock.

I just confessed my darkest, dirtiest secret and Fable didn’t run. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t mock me, she didn’t point any accusatory fingers.

For once in my life, I feel like I’ve finally found someone who understands.



Fable



I knew it. As much as I didn’t want to face it, I knew the problem stemmed from Adele. As the week wore on, more and more clues were revealed, and my suspicions grew.

And now they’ve been confirmed.

Hatred fills me, so overwhelmingly strong I’m dizzy with it. I hate that woman for what she’s done to Drew. How she continues to torture him. She’s disgusting. She’s a f*cking child molester who should be in jail, for the love of God, how she took advantage of Drew.

I hate her with everything inside of me.

“We need to go,” I say against his chest, my voice muffled. I pull away so I can look up at him, notice that his face is completely devoid of emotion. He’s in shutdown mode and I can’t chastise him since he’s most likely using it as a coping mechanism.

The minute we get back home, I’m telling him he needs to go to a professional therapist. Get what happened to him out of his mind once and for all. Not that he can ever let his past experiences go for good, but he can at least talk to someone. Seek help so he can better cope with everything.

“Drew.” I shake his arms and his eyes focus on me once more. “We need to leave. Now.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”