Chapter 15

Meghan's POV

(TW: there is talk of SA in this chapter! I will give another warning right before she talks about it!)

I cross my arms tighter, trying to ignore the fact that my face feels like it’s on fire.

“Well,” I say slowly, forcing as much confidence into my voice as possible, “I wasn’t the only one who slept next to someone last night.”

I turn my head deliberately.

Directly toward Kylah.

The room goes silent for half a second.

Then Eliana bursts out laughing.

Kylah’s eyes widen in betrayal. “MEGHAN.”

“Oh?” I say innocently. “So we’re discussing my sleeping arrangements but not yours?”

“There is nothing to discuss,” Kylah says immediately.

“Eliana?” I ask sweetly.

Eliana grins wickedly. “They cuddled.”

Kylah whips toward her in horror. “YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T USE THAT WORD.”

“You were literally spooning.”

“I hate all of you.”

I can’t stop the laugh that escapes me this time, the tension in my chest easing just a little as Kylah collapses dramatically against the couch cushions.

Anya points between the two of us accusingly. “This apartment has become unbearably coupled overnight.”

“We are not a couple,” both Kylah and I say at the exact same time.

That only makes Eliana laugh harder.

Then all three of them slowly turn toward me again.

Oh no.

“No,” I say immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Meghan,” Anya says carefully, like she’s approaching a wounded animal, “you slept in the same bed as a six-foot-four emotionally intelligent lumberjack-looking man who carried you to your room.”

“He’s not a lumberjack.”

Three eyebrows raise simultaneously.

I freeze.

Traitorous mouth.

Kylah points aggressively at me. “OH my God, you noticed details.”

“I hate this conversation.”

Eliana smirks. “You like him.”

“I barely know him.”

“But you want to,” Anya counters instantly.

The silence that follows says far too much.

I groan loudly and drop my face into my hands, fully prepared to melt into the couch cushions and never resurface.

If I can’t see them, maybe they’ll stop interrogating me.

Unfortunately, when I finally pull my hands away, all three of them are still staring at me.

Only this time the teasing is gone.

The room feels quieter suddenly.

More serious.

Eliana clears her throat softly, shifting forward on the couch. “So…” she starts carefully.

I already know I’m not going to like whatever comes next.

“Can we talk about last night?”

My stomach tightens instantly.

She pauses briefly before adding, “Aside from Ollie the giant.”

Kylah snorts quietly at the nickname, but even she doesn’t fully smile this time.

I look down at my coffee mug, fingers tightening around it.

Anya’s voice softens. “Meg… that guy at the bar really freaked you out.”

I hate how quickly emotion crawls back up my throat at that.

“I’m fine,” I say automatically.

Three unimpressed looks immediately hit me.

Right.

Wrong audience for that answer.

Eliana leans her elbows onto her knees, watching me carefully. “You ran out of there like you were being chased.”

The memory makes my chest tighten instantly.

The crowd.

The yelling.

Julien stepping closer.

And underneath all of that—

Fear.

Real fear.

I swallow hard.

“I just got overwhelmed,” I say quietly.

“But why?” Kylah asks gently now. “Like… genuinely. Because it felt bigger than just some creepy guy hitting on you.”

Silence stretches.

I can feel them waiting, but not pushing.

Which somehow makes this harder.

I stare down at the dark liquid in my cup for a long moment before speaking again.

“When he reached for me…” My voice comes out thinner than I expect. “I just—”

The words catch painfully.

Because suddenly I’m not in the apartment anymore.

I’m twelve again.

Cornered.

Small.

Learning how to stay quiet enough to survive someone else’s anger.

My breathing falters slightly.

Anya notices immediately, shifting closer. “Hey,” she says softly.

I blink hard and force myself back into the room.

“It just brought stuff back up,” I admit quietly.

The second the words leave my mouth, guilt follows right after them.

Because I don’t talk about this.

Ever.

The apartment stays silent for a moment.

Then Eliana’s expression softens completely.

“Oh, Meg.”

That alone almost undoes me again.

I shrug weakly, trying to downplay it even as my chest aches. “It’s stupid.”

“No,” Kylah says immediately.

“Not even a little,” Anya agrees quietly.

I look away quickly before they can see my eyes getting glossy again.

And before I can spiral too far into it—

My brain betrays me one more time.

Because through all of that fear, all of that panic, one thing still cuts through the memory stronger than anything else.

Warm hands.

Steady arms.

A deep voice saying she doesn’t want you touching her.

I close my eyes briefly.

And somehow that realization is almost scarier than Julien was.

A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.

I wipe it away quickly, frustrated with myself.

I tell myself it’s just the whirlwind of emotions from the last twelve hours finally catching up to me. The bar. Julien. Ollie. No sleep. Too much feeling all at once.

That has to be it.

Because if I let myself believe it’s something deeper—

I might completely unravel.

The girls notice immediately anyway.

Of course they do.

Anya shifts closer first, her expression softening instantly. “Hey,” she says again quietly.

Kylah’s teasing expression is completely gone now, concern replacing it as she watches me carefully.

“You don’t have to tell us anything,” Eliana says gently. “But… I think maybe there’s more going on than you’ve let us believe.”

I stare down at my hands.

For years, I’ve kept that part of myself locked away so tightly that eventually it became second nature. Easier to smile. Easier to joke. Easier to pretend my life started when I got to college.

The girls know I’m adopted.

That’s it.

Nothing before that.

Nothing after.

Because the past is supposed to stay in the past.

Right?

Another tear slips free despite how hard I fight it.

“I just…” My voice cracks instantly, forcing me to stop.

The apartment stays silent.

No pressure.

No interruptions.

Just three girls waiting patiently because they care about me far more than I deserve.

And somehow that’s what finally breaks me.

I inhale shakily before forcing myself to look up at them.

“I was abandoned when I was three,” I say quietly.

Their faces immediately soften further.

“I don’t remember a lot before foster care,” I continue, fingers twisting together in my lap, “just pieces. Mostly feelings.”

My throat tightens painfully.

“I got bounced around a lot after that. Different houses. Different families. Some were okay.” I shrug weakly. “Some weren’t.”

Kylah’s eyes are already glossy.

I push forward before I lose my nerve.

“Then I got adopted when I was twelve.”

Anya smiles sadly at first, like she thinks maybe this part gets better.

It doesn’t.

“But it wasn’t…” I swallow hard. “It wasn’t really a home.”

The silence turns heavier.

“Eliana,” I whisper, staring down at my hands again, “you know how your parents call you when you don’t answer for a few hours?”

She nods slowly.

“I used to pray mine wouldn’t.”

Nobody speaks.

My chest physically aches now, but once the words start coming, I can’t stop them anymore.

“There was a lot of yelling. A lot of controlling everything I did. And if they were angry…” My voice falters. “You learned very quickly how to stay quiet.”

Anya covers her mouth.

Kylah looks devastated.

And Eliana—

Eliana looks furious.

Not at me.

For me.

I took a long pause before this next part

(TRIGGER WARNING SA)

"And... when I was fourteen"

I paused again looking at them scared for my life for what I was about to tell them. Something I'd never told anyone before. I try to stop the shaking of my hands, but there is no control in my mind.

"When I was fourteen my adopted brother raped me." tears immediately escaping my eyes.

“I left the second I could,” I whisper. “And I just… never talk about it because I don’t want it to be who I am.”

The room is completely silent except for my shaky breathing.

Then suddenly Kylah is moving.

She throws herself at me so fast I barely have time to react before her arms are wrapped tightly around me.

“Oh, Meg,” she says, voice breaking.

Anya joins almost immediately after, followed by Eliana until somehow all four of us are tangled together on the couch while I try and fail not to cry harder.

“You should’ve told us,” Anya whispers.

I could tell they were all holding back tears.

“I didn’t want you guys to look at me differently.”

Eliana pulls back just enough to look me dead in the eyes.

“Meghan,” she says firmly, “nothing could make us love you less.”

That completely destroys whatever composure I had left.