~THE NIGHT WE FINALLY SPOKE~
I pulled my hand free at last, curling it against my chest as if it could shield me from the storm inside. My lips trembled, and for a second I thought I wouldn't be able to say a word. But Raffy's eyes were steady, waiting. Not pushing. Just… waiting.
"My life?" My voice cracked, bitter and fragile. "It's nothing special. Just… unlucky."
I laughed, but it was hollow, sharp. "I was the first child. For five years, I thought I mattered. My parents smiled at me, held me, called me their little blessing. And then…" I swallowed, my throat burning. "…my sister was born. She became their world, and I became the shadow in my own house. Everything that once belonged to me — the love, the attention, the pride — disappeared overnight. And I…" My chest ached so badly I had to stop for breath. "…I never got it back."
Raffy's jaw tightened, but I went on.
"My father—" The words spilled out like poison. "He's strict. Toxic. He looks at me like I'm a mistake. He never talks to me the way he does to her. He never cares when I cry. Sometimes I think he hates me, and I don't even know why." My eyes blurred, hot tears threatening, but I forced myself to keep talking. "And my mother? She just… lets it happen. Maybe she doesn't see it. Or maybe she's too busy loving the child who isn't me."
I laughed again, a cracked sound. "Do you know what it feels like to live in the same house as your replacement? To watch your sister glow while you fade? To realize you were never enough — not pretty enough, not smart enough, not *anything* enough? I do. Every single day."
Silence. My own words echoed back at me, sharp and ugly.
"I wanted to study. To do something with my life. To prove that I could shine too. But we're poor. And my father…" I shook my head, biting down hard on the sob rising in my throat. "He says he wants me to study, but he never helps. He doesn't give me the money. He doesn't make it possible. It's like he wants me to want it, but never have it. Like dangling freedom in front of me just so he can watch me fall."
I buried my face in my hands, my voice breaking. "Sometimes I think I was born just to suffer. To apologize to the world for existing. To be everyone's second choice, everyone's mistake. Replaceable. Forgettable."
My whole body shook as the words finally tore out of me, raw and unpolished.
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling, my heart hammering like it wanted to tear out of my chest.
"It wasn't just my father's anger… or my sister's shadow. The worst wound didn't come from inside my home. It came from someone everyone trusted."
My throat tightened. "My uncle."
Raffy froze, his knuckles whitening where they clenched the sofa.
"He always pretended to be kind. Too kind. His smiles lasted too long, his hands never left me fast enough. He would hold me a little tighter than he should… stand too close, whisper things that made my skin crawl." I pressed my nails into my palms until they stung. "At first, I thought it was my imagination. That maybe I was overthinking. But I wasn't."
My breath caught. "One night, he locked the door. Just me and him. His eyes… they weren't family eyes anymore. They were hungry. He reached for me — hands on my wrists, my waist, places they had no right to be. I was too scared to scream. My voice wouldn't come out. My body froze, like it belonged to him, not me."
Tears spilled freely now.
"He whispered things no child should ever hear. He touched me in ways no one ever should. I wanted to disappear. To die. I prayed someone would open the door — and by some cruel miracle, someone knocked. That's the only reason I escaped that night."
Silence. My sobs filled the room.
I hugged myself, rocking slightly. "Do you know what that does to a person, Raffy? To never feel safe in your own skin again? To flinch at every hand that comes near? To wonder if maybe you caused it somehow, even though deep down you know you didn't?"
The room felt too big with just the two of us in it, shadows stretching across the walls like silent witnesses. My confession still hung in the air, heavy, poisonous, but finally released after years of suffocating inside me.
I sat curled on the sofa, knees pulled to my chest, while Raffy remained in front of me — crouched low, so his eyes never left mine.
"Whenever someone took care of me," I whispered, voice trembling, "I thought it was love. I clung to it like it was my only chance to feel wanted. But all they were doing was being… friendly." My throat burned. "And then I ruined it by… by loving them back."
The words were a blade, pointed toward him, though I couldn't bring myself to say his name.
Before the silence could grow unbearable, Raffy moved. His hand closed gently around mine, warm and steady. Without asking, without hesitation, he pulled me off the sofa and onto my feet, guiding me toward the bed.
"Sit," he murmured.
I obeyed, almost dazed, my chest heaving. He sat beside me, his face stormy with emotions he was fighting hard to contain. For a long time, neither of us spoke. The only sound was my uneven breaths and the faint hum of the dorm lights.
Finally, Raffy's voice broke the silence. Low. Rough. "You didn't ruin anything, Wateen. The people who hurt you… they're the ones who ruined everything. Not you."
His hand tightened over mine, grounding me. His thumb brushed my knuckles in slow, trembling strokes.
"I wish I'd been there," he said through clenched teeth. "I wish I could've torn those moments away from you before they ever touched you. I hate myself for not being there."
I shook my head quickly, tears spilling again. "Don't say that. You've been here now. That's more than enough."
He looked at me then — really looked at me — his eyes burning with something fierce, unspoken, unmovable.
"From now on," he whispered, his words a vow that sent shivers down my spine, "you don't carry this alone. I'll carry it with you."
And before I could reply, he reached out and pulled me into him, my forehead pressing against his chest. His arms tightened around me like a promise.
For the first time, I let myself lean into him fully, my walls crumbling piece by piece. The dorm was quiet, but inside me, the noise of years of pain finally softened.