□ Harry Anderson □
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□ The Morning After □

I wake up in my bed. I forget reality for a few minutes before the memories come rushing back. The color drains from my face as tears sting my eyes. Oh, God, no! This didn't happen at all!

Noah didn't rape me last night. He didn't. No, we discussed having sex like human beings. We talked about having sex rationally. But I know that I can't keep lying to myself anymore.

Noah raped me. My boyfriend fucking raped me last night. I'm too scared to get out of bed. What if he's downstairs and wants another round? My anxiety level begins to rise, and I take deep breaths.

Someone knocks on my bedroom door. I tense up, pulling the blanket up to my neck. The door opens, and it's Noah. I shake in fear, and the tears sting a cut on my face. "Get the fuck away from me," I stammer.

"Harry," says Noah. His voice is broken. He's upset about what he did to me. There are dry tears on his face. His hands are shaking a bit.

I don't speak. I keep my mouth shut. If I speak, I'll say something I'll regret. Harry approaches the bed slowly. "Keep away from me," I say.

Harry stays by our dresser, listening to me. He clears his throat and says, "Harry, I'm sorry for what I did to you. I wasn't thinking properly. I was leading with my emotions instead of logic." I'm confused now. Normally, I'd be the one apologizing. But another question arises in my mind: Why isn't he at work?

"I promise, as God is my witness, that I will never hurt you again," says Noah as he walks toward the bed. He sits down and tries to place a hand on my knee. I pull my legs up closer to me. "I promise I won't abuse you, I won't drink, I won't rape you ever again," sobs Noah. His voice cracks, and silent tears slide down his face.

I begin to cry too. But I'm not sure how to respond to this. I can only nod my head and say, "I forgive you." Noah is being sincere. I know that most abusers don't change, but maybe he will. Noah scoots up closer and clears his throat again.

"You do know that you won't be able to leave, right?" Noah asks me. The confusion is back. What the Hell is he talking about? "Now that we've been … intimate," says Noah slowly, "this makes us a more official couple. This is something that you can't get out of. But I can change, love. For the better." My mind is reeling, but I gather my thoughts together.

If he does turn out bad again, there's not much I can do. I can't leave without betraying him. Noah was kind enough to let me live with him when I was ready to leave home. I can't throw it all away. I nod in agreement, letting myself fall into the hole.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Noah asks me. I nod again. Noah smiles as best he can, and he grabs my right hand gently. "I called today off sick a couple of months ago. That's why I'm home," he answers one of my previous questions. I try to grin as Noah kisses the back of my right hand.

When Noah left the house to go on a walk, I called Dr. Heart quickly. I need to talk to someone about this. "Dr. Heart here. How may I be of service?" I hear my doctor's voice on the other line. I don't smile and say, "I need to see you today. Are you free at 4:30 in the afternoon?" There's the sound of paper rustling in the background, and Dr. Heart replies, "Yes, I'm free. I'll see you at 4:30, Harry?"

"Yes, Doctor. Thank you," I say. We both hang up, and I try to figure out how to tell Noah this. I sit down at the table and wait for Noah to come home. He comes back about an hour later, shivering a bit. I tense up and force myself to relax.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Noah asks me as he takes his coat off. I take a deep breath and say, "I'm planning to go see Dr. Heart today. Is that okay with you?" Noah thinks about my request for a few minutes and nods his approval. I smile weakly, thanking him. Noah kisses my cheek gently before getting a glass of water.

When I'm in Dr. Heart's office, he sews up the scar on my face. I keep my gaze on the wall behind him, where his degrees are hanging. He went to college to become both a doctor and a therapist. Dr. Heart passed both his intended majors and became the man he is today. When he's finished sewing up the scar, he covers it up with a bandage after placing ointment on it lightly.

"What do you want to discuss today, Harry?" Dr. Heart asks me with a hint of a Hispanic accent. His eyes are full of concern. I try to tell him about Noah raping me, but I can't. I wipe the tears away before he can see me cry. Dr. Heart hands me a box of tissues.

I blow my nose and sniffle. "Harry, it's okay. Take your time," says Dr. Heart. "This session is about you," he adds. How the Hell can I tell him about my being raped? The abuse is no problem, but the rape is harder to discuss.

I ultimately settle on saying, "Noah took advantage of me," before I break down. Dr. Heart grips his pen tightly. His knuckles are turning white. He'd never handled these types of cases before? He doesn't press for details, which is good, but instead asks me why Noah did what he did.

I hesitate in answering. Thanks to toxic masculinity, guys who are raped are considered "gay" or "not masculine" for not wanting to have sex. How do I know Dr. Heart isn't thinking the same thing? I say, "I said 'no' to Noah's question of us having sex." Dr. Heart's reaction wasn't what I expected.

"Good for you," he says. "Guys can say 'no' too just as guys can be raped. I'm not sure whether to say 'sorry' or give sympathy. But I will lend an ear," he continues. I calm down. He believes me. That's good enough for me.

When I leave at 5:30 in the afternoon, I bump into a man. He was holding a cardboard tray of two coffees and a paper bag from the coffee shop down the street. "I'm sorry!" I say frantically as he stumbles and almost drops his packages. The man regains balance and smiles up at me. His smile is warming and comforting.

"It's quite alright. It's my fault. I was rushing to see my cousin, Dr. Steve Heart," the man says. I look at him incredulously. "Do I have a zit?" the man asks me worriedly. I shake my head, saying, "I just saw him." The man becomes relieved but frowns when he notices my bandage.

"I'm sure my cousin patched that up?" he asks. I nod. "That's Dr. Steve Heart for you," he says. "I'm Reginald Hill. I just moved here from Seattle, Washington," he adds. I beam at Reginald.

"I'm Harry Anderson," I say. Reginald smiles at me as he sets his items down and pulls out a small notepad. He jots something down and hands it to me. "That's my number. If you ever want to chat somewhere, give me a call," he says. I nod, replying, "I will."

Reginald picks up his coffees and bag again, going into the building. I hold the door open for him and continue walking down the street. While most people are wearing ski jackets, I have on a light sweater. My powers make me immune to the cold in a way. I head to the coffee shop, finding Noah standing by the door.

Oh, no. He must've seen me chatting with Reginald. There's a dark look in his eye. Terror fills my chest as I know what's going to happen when we get home. Noah grips my wrist tightly, pulling me back to his house.

I hope you all enjoyed chapter three. If you have any questions, ask me in the comments, on my message board, or over PMs.