Read Online Broken by Stella Noir, Aria Frost - Free Book Online

innocent of sexual assault. He has that on his sheet in block capital letters. Someone’s pain is his responsibility. He’s violated someone’s intimacy and they’ll never get that back.
    I touch the gun just to make sure it’s there, and the cold steel of the barrel responds accordingly.
    If he doesn’t come out again, I’m going in. If he doesn’t come out again, he may never do so.

Chapter Eighteen
Jo
    1 7 November 2015. Fifty one days after.
    It’s my first day back at work, and I feel even more nervous than I did on the very first day I started here. Alex has allowed me to begin slowly, just so I can adjust myself to the change. So I can ease myself back in to normality.
    Knowing Alex, I half expect him to announce my return by standing on a chair in the middle of the office floor and encouraging me to do the same. Thankfully, he doesn’t. Thankfully, despite the time I’ve been away, despite the vagueness over the reasons for doing so, not much seems to have changed. I get enthusiastic welcomes back from the team, but after that, it’s as if I never left. It reminds me of the group therapy session, and the difference between the fear of telling my story, and having that story then told. People move on quickly. People seem to adapt to change much more than we ever expect. I wonder if I have too, about what happened to me. I wonder if now, almost two months after it happened, when I think of what he did to me, I underestimate the pain he caused me, or under appreciate exactly the trauma he caused me to go through.
    We have a date for the case. Dad has dedicated himself to this cause completely, almost to the point of consumption, and has managed to apply pressure in exactly the right way to the right part of the system for the right amount of time in order to have the case rushed through as a priority.
    January the 26th. That’s just over two months from now, which according to him, is the best result we could have expected. It’s not the best result I could have expected, but I don’t think that matters to him.
    I’m back at my old desk, the bright eyed temp girl they’ve had in to replace me moved to the work space in the corner of the office used exclusively for hot desking. We do the hand-over together, and already I feel like I’m out of my depth. She’s newly graduated, ambitious, clever, I feel a spike of concern for my position, and wonder if she secretly resents me for coming back.
    I spend a couple of hours clearing out my emails, my heart chilling when I read the regular email reminders for the Friday night social get togethers. Fox and Hounds, Upended Spoon, the Twisted Sister. Bowling, roller discos, rape.
    In the end I blanket delete them all. I delete every single email from that day and every single email I’ve ever received about going out after work on Friday, but not before I’ve read an email chain between Fraser and I about that night that nearly makes me cry.
    Fraser: Can’t wait to get wasted!
    Me: Me too. Is it time to go home yet, I’m bored!
    Fraser: Any plans for the weekend?
    Me: I’m going to be sat on my sofa, chilling the fuck out!
    Fraser and I used to flirt with each other when I first started. We even went on a couple of dates. After that fizzled out we became close friends. I’ve kind of pushed him away a little over the last couple of months because of what happened. Dating seems like a million miles away from where I am now. I don’t know whether it’s something I’ll ever feel like doing again. It’s normal, that’s what they say at least. Resounding effects: Loss of libido, depression, feelings of guilt, lack of self worth, disassociation. Fucked up life.
    Jesus, I used think about sex all the time before it happened, and now, now when I think about it, which admittedly is hardly ever, I can’t not think about him. I feel so lonely sometimes. Looking around the office, being with people, I get reminded of that. It’s paradoxical, but here, with other