Indecent Proposal

Chapter 3: The Breaking Point

Author's Note: I know it's short. I'm tired. I promise the next chapter will be longer. Love you guys. Also, no spoilers, but read with caution, this chapter is a rough one.

You stumble up the pathway to Aaron's house and knock on the door, mentally willing your legs to hold you up. When he doesn't answer right away you ring the doorknob and knock louder, sending up a silent prayer that he's home.

Aaron opens the door, peering out into the darkness. "Y/N? It's three am, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry." You blurt. "I'm so sorry. I can't be at home right now and I didn't know where else to go. Nobody else knows about my...situation."

"Are you alright? Come inside." He ushers you into the living room and has you sit on the couch while he turns on a lamp.

You quickly lower your gaze to the floor, hoping to hide some of the bruising on your face.

"What's going on, Y/N?"

"Eric and I had a fight. I just couldn't stay there with him. I'm so sorry for bothering you. Oh my gosh, and Jack. I didn't wake him up, did I? I'm sorry, I should go." You start to stand.

"He's not here. Stop apologizing and sit down."

His tone makes you flinch. "Yes, sir." You quickly lower yourself back down on the cushions.

He sits beside you on the couch. "Tell me what really happened to you, Y/N. You didn't show up here at three am because you got into a spat with your boyfriend."

You need to tell him the truth.

Instead, you reply: "This was dumb of me. I'm overreacting. We just got into a silly argument and I needed to get out of the house for a bit."

"Y/N." He clearly doesn't believe a word you're saying. "You can trust me. Talk to me. Please."

Tell him the truth.

You sigh and close your eyes before lifting your face up.

He gasps. "What the fuck happened?"

"He was mad because he embarrassed himself at Rossi's. He said it was my fault. I tried to calm him down but he..." You choke back a sob. "He hit me."

Aaron doesn't say anything for a few minutes. You open your eyes and see that his expression is contorted with anger and it frightens you. You flinch and he takes notice, taking a deep breath before reaching for your hand.

"Do you want me to call the police?" His voice is barely above a whisper, a soothing tactic he often uses with domestic violence victims you encounter on cases.

"No."

"Do you want me to call anyone? Family, friends?"

"No. I can't face them like this."

He falls silent once more, his thumb stroking your knuckles.

"Aaron-"

"Y/N, you might want to take photos of your face and body. If you change your mind and decide to press charges-"

"I won't. I can't."

You're so ashamed of yourself right now.

You counsel women and encourage them to report their abusers and press charges, yet when the same thing happens to you, you won't do it? Coward.

"Y/N, it's okay. You have the right to handle this however you please. I support whatever you decide, but I think we both know it's not safe for you to go back home right now."