Secret Whispers (Heavenstone 2)

“You mean, that’s what I did, caused you to relive it?”

“It’s not your fault, but yes, that’s what just happened. I’m sorry.”

“Does that happen often? I mean, not with other men, but just happen?”

“Not often, but . . . it happens sometimes in the middle of the night.”

“Have you been seeing someone about this sort of thing, a therapist?”

“Yes.”

“Recently?”

“The last time I was home, but the doctor, Dr. Ryan, didn’t think I needed to see him again.”

“Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe you’re not quite . . . ready,” he said. “Maybe you should still see this therapist, especially if this thing still happens to you.”

I nodded, close to tears. I could feel the distance growing between us. Cassie was smiling wider and nodding her head. I wanted to scream at her, but I was afraid of what that would do to Ethan, so I kept my eyes down. He reached for his clothing.

“Ethan . . .”

“I’ll take you back so you can rest,” he said. “We’ll try again some other time,” he added, but he didn’t sound sincere.

I said nothing. I got dressed quickly, too. We left the motel room in silence. When I looked back, Cassie was standing in the doorway, with her arms folded over her breasts the way they were when she was planted firmly in a thought or a decision.

“You want to get something to eat?” Ethan asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”

He nodded and drove us away. After a few minutes, he began asking more about the date rape.

“Who was the man? Was he arrested or anything?”

“Not arrested. My father handled that. As I said, he was working for us, and Cassie had promised him a promotion. My father liked him. It was a shock for my father to learn what my sister and he had done.”

“I’ll bet. Your sister was quite a piece of work, I guess.”

“She was very intelligent, always far ahead in her schoolwork.”

“Lots of crazy people are intelligent,” Ethan said.

I was afraid of his thinking Cassie was crazy. Most people believe that if there’s one mentally ill person in the family, there is the possibility of another or that the mental illness will poke its ugly head up sometime in the future. It makes you more self-conscious about everything you do, wondering always if it will cause people to think you, too, are showing signs of some psychological problem.

Later, when we pulled onto the Collier campus, I asked him if he was still planning on coming to my graduation ceremony. He had said that he wanted to meet my father and my uncle Perry. I told him that I had told my father about him. There was no conflict with his own graduation ceremonies.

“Sure,” he said. “You take it easy this week. I’ll call you during the week. I don’t think I can get over here, because I still have lots to do myself.”

“Okay.” I held on to his hand. “I didn’t mean to keep it all a secret from you, Ethan. It’s not easy for me to tell anyone about it.”

“I understand.”

He leaned over to kiss me. It was already a different kiss, the sort of kiss a friend gives a friend or a relative gives a relative. There wasn’t even a trace of passion in it. His lips flicked on mine and were gone. I hardly had time to close my eyes and savor the taste of his love.

I got out quickly. He waved and drove off. My heart felt like a brick of lead in my chest. With my head down, I walked into the dormitory and toward my and Ellie’s room. I was immediately surprised by laughter and loud music. When I paused at our doorway, I saw Pam Dorfman, Natalie Roberts, Ellie, and Cara Allen smoking what was clearly pot. Natalie was drinking something obviously alcoholic from a paper cup and dancing. Cara was standing on my bed, and Pam was wearing my beret.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Party time, Norma,” Natalie said, laughing.