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*Michael's POV*

I am speechless. I really need to say something. Something to let her know that I still love her and I don't blame her, but the words just won't come. I wasn't expecting her to come out and basically tell me she was molested by an elder, by family, by someone she trusted. That's why she doesn't ever trust anyone completely. Her trust was shattered beyond repair so she built a wall around it. What I don't understand is why she's ashamed. Because she didn't stop it? That has to be the reason. I still don't know what to tell her. She has cried herself to sleep away from me on her bed. I should've held her but I was scared that she wouldn't want me to touch her.

I roll to my side and pull her in close to me. I play with her curls as I try to process this. She thought I'd leave her. What could make her think I'd leave her for something that was done to her? The only thing I can think of is her words, "I never told anyone. I could've stopped it but I didn't. I let it continue for years."

She was 15 and was being touched and she didn't stop it. She let it continue. She's so ashamed because she didn't stop something that felt good? She never speaks dirty, she rarely initiates anything beyond a kiss, and she won't touch me without my boxers on. Is this all the consequences of what that sick man did to her?

I think back to her poem she wrote. She said she needs to revise it now. I've been playing with the words all week. I wanted to surprise her with a song. I start quietly singing what I want to be a chorus

Cause I've got a jet black heart
And there's a hurricane underneath it
Trying to keep us apart
I write with a poison pen
But these chemicals moving between us
Are the reason to start again

She gasped, "Is that my poem?"

"Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. But yeah, I've been playing with the words a bit."

"It's beautiful!"

"It's a start. I can help you work on it if you want." She just nods.

"Can we talk?" I ask. I need to clear this tension between us. She sits up with her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. She's nervously biting her bottom lip.

"I've already told you that nothing in your past could make me love you any less. I just don't understand what you're trying to tell me. I don't see what you have to be ashamed of."

"I'll try to explain. After I started dating TJ, my grandpa changed. We went to my grandparents a lot because James was little and dad was working really weird hours, so he wasn't around much." She took a deep breath before continuing.

"It started out with him making his kiss goodnight a little longer, which led to him forcing his tongue in my mouth. I was scared and I didn't know what to think. This was my grandfather who i absolutely adored! So the next time I faked going to sleep early to avoid him. I always had to sleep on the couch, so he made sure he was the last to go to bed. He would come to the couch and wake me up, whether I was asleep or not. After a few times of using his tongue, he started putting his hand up my shirt and playing with me. I was always taught to respect my elders and never lie to them. I didn't like him doing it, but he'd ask me if it felt good. Of course it did, ya know? I hated answering him but I had to. Eventually he started grabbing my hand and would guide my hand to rubbing him through his pants. It kept up every time I'd see him. I was too scared to say anything to anyone. I couldn't tell Pam, cause it was her dad. She wouldn't believe me anyways. She was a daddy's girl. He started pushing it further. He would rub between my legs through my clothes, then he got to where he'd put my hand inside his pants. If he'd let go, I'd try to take my hand out and he'd push it back in, forcing my hand to grab him and stroke him til he came." She was crying at this point.

"It got to where he would put his hand down my pants and rub me and finger me and he wouldn't stop, even if I tried to move his hand away. He would keep going and going until I came. He'd ask me if that felt good. He made me cum, what was I supposed to say?! He'd call me a dirty beautiful girl. I felt dirty. So dirty and so ashamed because I had an orgasm from my grandfathers touch. But it didn't even stop there. He would do that every night. He would tell me to open my mouth, but I wouldn't do it. He threatened to tell everyone that I jacked him off. 'You don't want the family to know that you give me a handjob every night, do you?' he would say. I was terrified. I felt trapped, I had to do what he said. He'd force his dick in my mouth, pulling my hair if I hurt him in any way, and thrust himself in my mouth, forcing me to suck until he'd cum. 'Don't get that on my couch. Swallow it. Now'. Then he would 'reward' me by fingering me or he would pull my pants down and eat me out until I came. He always ended things with making me cum and tell me I dirty and how bad I was for being so beautiful. If I wasn't so beautiful and dirty it wouldn't have happened, he'd tell me. This went on for years, until I finally moved to California."

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