BENEATH HIS HANDS

*EMILY*

The darkness had teeth.

“This can’t be happening.” My own voice trembled, thin and useless.

“No.”

“Please, I beg you… what do you want? Money? Jewelry? Name it, just don’t do this to me.”

No answer. Only the sound of breathing close enough to feel on my skin. Then it hit me, the smell. Warm cologne mixed with something sharper, metallic. Familiar. My mind grasped at the memory, desperate to place it, but panic kept shoving it away.

I couldn’t see his face, only the shadow that loomed over me, swallowing up the light. My heart pounded so loud I thought it might break through my ribs. Somewhere far away, glass shattered. Somewhere closer, fabric tore.

And then black.

I jolted upright, gasping for air, my sheets damp with sweat. The same dream. No, nightmare. Two months now, playing on repeat like a broken film reel. I didn’t need a therapist to tell me it wasn’t just a dream.

It already happened.

I haven’t told anyone, not Isaac, not even my best friend Lily.

“What did you just say?” I asked the doctor standing in front of me later that morning. My head was spinning. I’d been feeling nauseous all day and decided to get checked out, but his words sounded like static in my ears.

“I said you’re pregnant, miss. Congratulations,” he repeated.

Congratulations? I’m twenty-two, an orphan, drowning in student loans, and pregnant? Oh and let’s not forget I’m pregnant with the child of someone I don’t even know. A rapist!

I left the hospital depressed, stressed, and with the doctor’s parting words clawing at my mind: “Please take care of yourself and the baby. You need to rest for the first trimester, don’t overwork yourself, Miss Emily.”

Fuck the baby. I’ll overwork myself and get this thing out of me. It’s for the best for both of us. And for Isaac.

Isaac. God, how do I tell him? What will I even say? How is he going to believe that I was a virgin the last time he saw me, and now I’m not and I have the proof growing inside me? He told me not to go to that party, but I didn’t listen. I’m screwed.

Who do I call? Lily. Always Lily.

I dialed her number. She picked up immediately.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Lily. Where are you?”

“On my way to the airport, heading to Brooklyn with Dr. Riggs.”

“Can you talk right now?”

“Nah. Unless it’s urgent. I’ve got a lot on my plate you know he’s an ass.”

“Oh. When you’re back, then. Bye.”

Lily is a practicing surgeon and personal assistant to Dr. Riggs, a world-famous surgeon who only travels for complicated operations. And yes, he’s a massive pain in Lily’s ass.

I’m left staring at my phone, debating whether to call Isaac or not. No. He’ll break up with me. But I can’t stay silent forever.

I need to get it over with.

Now here I am, standing in front of his apartment. Ding. I press the doorbell.

“Who is it?” His voice. My stomach twists. I press again. Ding. Ding.

“Emily,” he says, opening the door, staring at me like I’m a ghost.

“Isaac,” I whisper, tears already pricking my eyes. I try to step in, but he blocks me.

“Ugh… you can’t come in now.”

“Why? Please, I need to tell you something important.”

“No, I…”

“Who do we have here?”

A blonde woman appears behind him, a smirk on her lips to match the lingerie she’s wearing. His ex-girlfriend.

“Stella? What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She runs her hand over the fabric of the lingerie, a cruel hint.

“What the hell, Isaac Scott!”

“Stop it, Emily. She gave me what you couldn’t. I got tired of waiting. And why are you here without telling me first?”

Right. I’m not pure either. But I didn’t choose my sin, mine was forced on me. Still, in his eyes, it’s all the same.

I change my mind. I’ll just… go away.