All the Things I Meant to Tell You Read online

  “Somebody bothering her? Me and the bruhs need to pull up?”

  “I don’t know, she won’t say. But she hasn’t been right since something happened at that damn night club. That Club Phenom.”

  “Oh, Traci and Abena’s spot?”

  “Yes. Twila was hurt there. I don’t know how and by whom, but you know they have some kind of sex dungeon in that place. They offered to host our engagement party, and Twila looked like she’d seen a ghost.”

  “Are you assuming something happened there, or . . .”

  “No, I just remember Twila telling me and Hahna that she never should’ve gone there. After that she started all her self-defense classes.”

  “Maybe one day she’ll tell you the whole story.”

  Kimberly nodded. “Maybe. But I think she has to deal with it herself first.”

  Chapter 9

  TWILA

  I needed to do this. Had to follow Dr. Mays’s instructions if I wanted to get to the other side of this damn thing. But, I kept thinking about how I’d seen him in my subdivision. He’d shattered me once, that night at Phenom. It was bullshit that he’d found the opportunity to shatter me again.

  “Twila, what happened after you woke up in the room encased in glass?” Dr. Mays asked pulling my attention back to the conversation.

  I wasn’t sure if I could continue. In my mind, I always stopped the memory there. With his laughter.

  “He started laughing.”

  “How did you feel? Were you in pain?”

  I closed my eyes and breathed. Put myself back in that room with my attacker. In my mind I could hear his deep, grating laugh. I could almost feel his breath on my face. It smelled like wine.

  “You are back in the room,” Dr. Mays said. “Take me there with you.”

  “I couldn’t move. He had laid my body on a chaise that was in the room. He knelt on the floor next to me. I was awake, but I couldn’t move. Except my eyes. I looked around the room, at the people walking by the room. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my mouth.”

  “You felt afraid then?”

  “I felt angry that I couldn’t do anything to him. That my body wouldn’t cooperate.”

  My hands gripped the armrests of my chair so tightly that the skin across my knuckles stretched taut. I didn’t want to relive this. My eyes shot open and I shook my head.

  “Can we just stop here?” I asked. “Let’s pick up here the next session.”

  “Breathe Twila,” Dr. Mays said. “Facing this will help you get your power back. Take a moment, then try to continue.”

  I relaxed my hands and put them in my lap. I breathed. Relaxed but not completely.

  “He started touching me. Tore my panties off from under my tutu. He licked my inner thigh. He said things that weren’t true. That I was a slut, and that I wanted to be dominated, so he was going to take mastery of me.”

  My breaths became shallow again, and my heart raced. I picked up the glass of water next to me on the table. My hand trembled as I set it down again.

  “After he said that to me, he put on a condom and straddled me. I couldn’t move, so I memorized his face. His eyes were grey like a glacier. His hair was red, he had thick eyebrows, and thick eyelashes. If not for him raping me, I would’ve thought he was handsome.”

  “Did he look at your face too? Were you memorizing each other?” Dr. Mays asked.

  “He barely looked at me. I kept trying to get him to make eye contact with me. I hoped that if he saw the tears he would stop and find another woman. There were plenty of women in the club who would’ve slept with him.”

  “You were crying.”

  I nodded. “Yes. I cried while he was on top of me. It was quick. Just a few strokes and he was done. His breath. The wine. It made my stomach turn, but I didn’t vomit. I still can’t smell that kind of wine without remembering.”

  “What kind of wine was it?”

  “I’m not sure, but my friend was drinking Riesling the other day and her breath smelled like his.”

  “What happened next, Twila? After he raped you.”

  “When he finished . . . he seemed almost ashamed of himself. Like how a teenage boy might look if his mother walked in on him masturbating.”

  “Did he say anything else to you?”

  “He touched my face, and said, ‘You’re pretty.’ Then, he propped my head up on a pillow, kissed my forehead and turned off the spotlight in our room. When the light was off, the voyeurs didn’t look in. It was a club rule. To give couples privacy.”

  “And then he left?” Dr. Mays asked.

  I nodded. “He left the room, and I was there alone for what felt like a long time, but it was only a few minutes. Eventually, I could feel my limbs again. It felt like when your leg falls asleep from sitting on it wrong or something. When I could finally move, I got up. I stumbled out of there.”

  “Why did you not report it then? Do you think he could have been caught?”

  “I felt like it was my fault.”

  “Twila . . .”

  “No, wait, Dr. Mays. I know rape is never the victim’s fault in that way. I just mean that I had no business being there. I go to church—not often anymore—but I do. That was a den of iniquity, and I’d gone there willingly. I don’t even know what I was looking for by opening that door.”

  “So, you believe that this was some sort of punishment?”

  “No. Reaping. I sowed by walking into that room. Looking at all those couples fornicate. I enjoyed it. It turned me on. Maybe . . . maybe that guy could tell that I was turned on. What if he really did think I wanted it?”

  “Are you asking me to answer that question, Twila?”

  I shook my head. Of course, I didn’t want her to answer the question.

  “I was just curious about it. I thought, I don’t know, that I was missing out on something fun. That I was too much a prude and maybe that’s why I didn’t have a man.”

  Dr. Mays got up from her seat and sat on the couch next to me. “Twila,” she said, “there was nothing you did to deserve being raped.”

  “But going into that room didn’t feel right, though, now that I look back on it. Not in my spirit.”

  “Are you sure that feeling in your spirit is not a bit of Monday morning quarterbacking?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You told me that you were turned on when you observed the couples involved in consensual sexual behaviors.”

  “I was.”

  “Well, take that at face value. Do not judge the experience based on what happened to you.”

  My eyes became slits, and I shook my head. “What are you trying to tell me? I don’t understand. Are you telling me I should go back there?”

  “Not at all. I am telling you not to view that experience through a crime and punishment lens. God did not punish you with rape, Twila.”

  “I don’t know if that’s what I’m saying. I mean, I know God didn’t punish me, but maybe . . . maybe He allowed it to happen.”

  “If you had not been raped, would you have gone back?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But, I can’t separate the room from the rape, so I don’t know.”

  “Hopefully, when we are done with your treatment, you are able to separate the two.”

  Even if I did progress to that point, I wasn’t going back to that room at Club Phenom. I’ve been to the club, but this was one thing I could say never about.

  “I took my last boyfriend to the club, and he was jealous. He thought I was a regular visitor behind the red door.”

  “You still visit the club. Just not the room behind the red door.”

  “Correct.”

  Dr. Mays nodded and sucked her teeth absentmindedly. I usually loved when she made that sound, because she always came up with good ideas after. It was as if that sound got her thinking juices going, just like running did for me. But I didn’t know if I wanted to hear any ideas, good or bad, about Club Phenom. I was still trying to unpack all of the d
ay’s revelations.

  “I feel like I need to know who he is,” I said, before Dr. Mays could tell me what she was thinking.

  “Your attacker? And what would you do with that information?” Dr Mays asked.

  “I don’t know what I would do with the information.”

  “Would it make you feel empowered to secretly know something about him?”

  “I think so.”

  “There is some power in knowing things, but there is also freedom in ignorance.”

  I scoffed. “This doesn’t feel like bliss, though.”

  “I didn’t say bliss. I said freedom. If you have this information, you might feel compelled to act on it. I think you should first focus on desensitizing your mind and spirit to the attack. Once that is neutralized, you can move forward.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I am. You have done good work here today, Twila. You got through the entire event, and you did not fall apart.”

  “I feel heavy though.”

  Dr. Mays touched my hands and squeezed. “Soon, you will feel lighter.”

  “You know . . . I meant to come to you sooner about this, Dr. Mays. I don’t know why I waited.”

  “You are here now.”

  I couldn’t hide anything from Dr. Mays. None of my motives were safe from her all-seeing eyes. She saw right through me and prophesied my next move. When I got my attacker’s information I was going to be compelled to act. That was the entire point.

  Chapter 10

  HAHNA

  Why did I let Twila talk me into coming to the gym with her at five in the darn morning? I was not awake. I was barely alive. But here I was anyway, and I was supposed to spin.

  “Stop looking like that,” Twila said as we walked into the spin room.

  “Like what?”

  “Like somebody’s holding you hostage.”

  “Somebody is holding me hostage. An exercise terrorist. I don’t appreciate this.”

  Twila picked out her bike and jumped on effortlessly. I selected the one next to her and fiddled with some of the knobs. I had to adjust the seat height, the handlebars, how close the seat was to the handlebars, and the pedals.

  “Girl what are you doing?” Twila said with a laugh. “Get your ass on the damn bike.”

  “Listen here. I’m not about to get injured, shoot.”

  “You are going to thank me when you’re looking like a goddess at Kimberly’s wedding,” Twila said as I eased myself gingerly onto the seat.

  “I’m fine just looking like a mere mortal. Why don’t you go harass Kim? It’s her wedding.”

  Twila started pedaling while I was still strapping my shoes in. I didn’t care one bit about catching up to her.

  “She always gets weird when we talk about weight loss. She acts like I can’t relate.”

  “Well, you can’t relate to her struggle.”

  “Girl, if you don’t move your damn legs! You’re on the damn bike. Stop stalling.”

  I scowled at Twila and slowly pumped my legs. It hurt from the start. “Are you happy?”

  “No. But your muscles are.”

  They weren’t. They were silently screaming.

  “Back to Kim,” I said. “Her weight loss journey is different from yours. So, I guess I understand why she acts weird about it.”

  “And maybe she doesn’t plan on losing any weight. It’s not like she has to. Ron loves her just the way she is.”

  “And that is the moral of this story,” I said as I tried to swing one leg off the bike.

  “If you don’t get yo . . .”

  My new tenant, DeAndre Williams, walked into the spin room and stopped Twila’s mouth in the middle of the sentence. Good. His arms were enough to halt speech and thoughts. Those things were impressive, and the single tattoo, a cross on his bicep, was just the perfect amount of hood to go along with his chocolate.

  “Good morning, Hahna,” he said.

  “Morning DeAndre. You spin?” I asked. “It’s a good workout isn’t it.”

  Twila made a sound that was a cross between a choke, a snort, and a laugh. She was such a hater.

  I shoved a thumb in her direction. “This is my friend Twila Bennings. The gym rat. Twila, this my new tenant, DeAndre Williams. His law office is now on the first floor of my building.”

  Twila continued to pedal, but with a huge smile on her face. “Nice to meet you Mr. Williams. Am I going to get to see you every morning?”

  DeAndre gave her that heart-arresting smile. Her pedaling slowed a little.

  “If you’re going to be here, that’s motivation for me to get in gear. You work around here?”

  “My orthodontics practice is about five minutes away.”

  “An orthodontist? So, I can have a sista take care of my pearly whites?”

  Twila grinned. “I’ll take care of you.”

  DeAndre bit his bottom lip, nodded and chuckled. Twila had no problem letting a brother know she was interested.

  “Again, it was a blessing meeting you this morning, Ms. Bennings. I hope to see you again tomorrow, and the next day. Hahna, I’ll see you in the office.”

  DeAndre swaggered down to a bike on the other end of the room. Twila’s eyes followed him the entire way. Just as he turned to look at them, Twila started pedaling hard.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” Twila said.

  “What? He’s fine, he’s single, and he’s paid. You betta capitalize on all that electric attraction.”

  Twila sighed. “I can’t. Not now. The timing is hella off. This therapy thing I’m doing is ripping some shit wide open.”

  I kept pedaling while I waited for her to continue. Twila was notoriously guarded about her therapy and trauma. If she was talking about it, I wasn’t going to interrupt.

  “Dr. Mays is working me. I mean, I’m doing the work, but she’s taken me to the damn brink of everything I thought I knew.”

  “Like what?”

  “She’s challenged me on my faith view and my values. I feel like I’m having conflict with my damn self. Or the self I was when I was nineteen and in the youth choir and the self I am today.”

  “Conflict?”

  “Yeah, mostly the things I’ve beat myself up about. I’ve always looked at things like if you put yourself out there, in the world, when you know you belong to God, then you’re gonna have calamity.”

  I scrunched my eyebrows, but didn’t respond, because that was my take on things. My grandmother always said a righteous person’s steps are ordered by God. I wasn’t perfect—no one was—but I tried to live mostly right.

  “And maybe, just maybe, calamity isn’t because of something I did. Shit, I don’t deserve calamity.”

  “So, are you going to keep seeing her?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course. Dr. Mays’s methods are what I need.”

  “And that’s the reason you can’t follow up on DeAndre?”

  She nodded as she sipped a bit of water from her hydro flask. “I’m not ready to focus on a man, or dating, or any of that. I need to focus on getting my power back and moving back to my home.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Twila cocked her head to one side and frowned. “I was raped.”

  I stopped pedaling and got tangled up in the bike trying to get to Twila. I needed to hug her. I knew it was something like that. Kimberly and I had surmised rape as the worst-case scenario, mostly because neither of us wanted to accept that as a reality.

  “Don’t, Hahna. Don’t react like that.”

  “What do you mean, don’t react like that? I mean, what am I supposed to do?”

  “Nothing except listen to me. This may be the reason why I never told you and Kimberly what happened.”

  “Because we react?”

  “We all do. It’s what we do for each other in our friendship, and I love y’all for it. I just didn’t want y’all trying to get me to react.”

  “Has the statute of limitations passed?” I asked.

>   “Hahna.”

  “I’m sorry. When did it happen? Where?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not ready for the details yet. I’m working through that in therapy. I might never be able to share that part of it.”

  “Okay.”

  “But, I will tell you that I saw him in my subdivision, and that’s why I’m at your house. If I can’t see my way clear of going back, I’ll sell the place.”

  “No, you love that townhouse.”

  “I do, but I’ll walk away from it, before I feel powerless in my own home.”

  I eased my one tangled leg onto the floor. “You don’t have to feel powerless. I know people . . .”

  “No, Hahna. That’s a reaction.”

  “I got you.”

  “Get back on the bike,” Twila said. “You’re not done, and you ain’t slick.”

  I groaned and hoisted myself back up.

  “Ten more minutes,” Twila said. “You can do this.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I pressed my legs down again, although they felt like gelatin. My muscles must have atrophied from sitting at a desk all day. At least Twila stood up to work on her patients.

  “Twila?”

  “What?”

  “Why in the heck did you flirt so hard with that man if you weren’t going to talk to him?” I asked.

  “Girl, he was so fine I went into autopilot mode. I didn’t even think until he walked away.”

  “He short circuited you, huh?”

  “Took me to those primitive, primal urges, chile.”

  “Well, now he’s gonna be looking for you every day. You started something.”

  Twila sighed. “I wish I hadn’t,” she said.

  I didn’t want to tell Twila this, but I didn’t think her flirting with DeAndre was a short circuit. Perhaps her sharing with her therapist, and then me, about being raped had taken a weight from her. I think for a moment, Twila felt normal and did a natural thing—hit on a handsome man.

  And I was going to pray that natural things continued to happen every morning in the spin room.

  Chapter 11

  KIMBERLY

  The bridesmaid crew had turned the Bailey Wine Cellar into a blue, pink, and silver wonderland to celebrate the union of Kimberly and her Big Ron. A Gamma Phi Gamma to an Omega Phi Kappa. The sorority’s colors were blue and pink, and the fraternity’s colors were silver and blue. The sight of it made Kimberly beam. Ron stood next to her in the doorway and kissed her neck.