Caged Byrd

Chapter 15 - Therapy

***TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter implies CSA (childhood sexual assault). It does not contain any descriptions or details but I still felt the need to post a warning.***

How exactly did you exit this type of situation? Hey, so I'm gonna go get dressed and head back to our room. See you in there? I avoided his eyes as he passed me shampoo.

We were in the shower. Together. And he just... I just... What was wrong with me? And why was my body still humming? Kissing him had been one thing. I could write that off as being emotionally charged or a lapse in judgment. But this? There was no coming back from this. When we ended up talking about this, and I was certain we would, I wasn't sure what I would say. Sorry? I was horny? Please don't hold it against me?

I wanted to bury my face in my hands and wallow over my own stupid actions. I faced the showerhead, my back to him. I couldn't look at him. Not yet. Alex gave me my space as we washed away the evidence of what had transpired between us.

When he handed me a towel, I tried to find words. "You don't owe me an explanation," he said gently. I swallowed, taking the towel. "I don't have any expectations."

"Okay," I said, wrapping myself in the fluffy material. My heart was still pounding but the lust had finally left my veins. I took in a slow breath as he left the doorway of the shower.

By the time I exited, Alex was no longer in the bathroom. I took my time as I picked out clothing, taking notice that all the cabinets were now unlocked. I searched through them, unrushed. I chose a soft pair of black leggings and an over-sized t shirt. They clung a little to my damp skin as I made my way back to the sink. The steam had faded and patches of the mirror had cleared. I stared at myself for a moment, somewhat surprised to see that I looked the same.

I hadn't expected to see a difference, but I felt different. My walls hadn't dissolved, but a few of the bricks had crumbled under the weight of my time here. My defenses weren't as strong.

When I woke in the room on the other side of the door, I had braced myself for the worst. For a villain that would take with no regard to my feelings. For a monster that would taunt me with my own actions. One that would tell me it was my fault that this happened to me.

I didn't expect the quiet way he waited for me to yield. To want. My entire defense strategy had centered around fighting off his physical advances, not mental ones.

How could he know me so well already? My parents were clueless when it came to my mental health. They had pushed me into therapy years ago and yet nothing had really come of it. They didn't dig in. They didn't try to really understand. They cared. They were more than willing to spend the money to try to get me help, but they didn't question much.

I had never really dated. Men made me uncomfortable and I wasn't really sure why. I had a feeling, but one that I didn't dare bring up. Especially not in therapy. I wasn't ready to face any more trauma. I didn't want to discuss the hazy memories that scared me so much I didn't let myself think about them.

In therapy, we talked a lot about my dad. My 'Daddy issues'. It was an easy topic to focus on. My relationship with my father was riddled with so many issues that my therapist never bothered to dig deeper.

But Alex had honed in on it almost immediately. Had questioned the way I held everyone at arms length. How I shied away from others. Had suspected more when others had just attributed the behavior to feelings of distrust related to my dad leaving us. They had assumed it was about becoming emotionally close to someone else, not physically.