Hello everybody! Thank you so much for the amazing reviews you've all left me. I have good news and bad news for you. I'll start with the good news - this chapter is where everything is explained. Now, the bad news - I go back to school this week which means updates will likely be less frequent. And uh, also, more bad news. This chapter contains very serious references. I don't want to spoil exactly what is mentioned because it is unexpected for all of you as none of you guessed this to be the reason for Emily's disappearance. Let's just say, a lot, a lot, a lot of violence. Please be forewarned that this chapter is not for the faint hearted.

This is how I always planned it. Of course, due to the nature of this chapter, I feel I must reiterate that the story has now completely deviated from what happened to me. This never happened to me. Things started to deviate once Emily left. I still have my Emily.

As usual, I own nothing.

Chapter 21: Secrets

Three months had passed since Emily left.

I'd gotten on with my life, I suppose. I went to Egypt for a while for work, and I'd explored a bit while I was there – though not as much as I would have liked, due to the political instability. After I came back, things settled down. I'd go out with Katie and Effy, who pressured me to find a new girlfriend and claimed that I wasn't moving on properly. It's not that I didn't want a new girlfriend – I just didn't find anyone that I liked enough to date.

My mum and Kieran were the same as always, stable and unpredictable, and the same goes for Cook. JJ and Lara recently found out they were expecting their first child together, which was rough news for both Katie and Effy. I know that sometimes they tried to push their infertility out of their minds, make it easier to deal with, but with Lara and JJ constantly talking about babies, they were constantly reminded that they'd never have their own.

Katie had managed to find a job working with another local photographer, and she was happy. Effy worked with the same photographer as his stylist.

I stopped going over to Emily's flat to get her mail. It was actually quite impossible to go there, considering the place had been sold over a month ago.

It didn't seem like she would ever come back. Katie never mentioned her, but I watched Effy comfort her when she cried over Emily. I comforted her myself when she was too proud to let Effy see her cry on her birthday. It was her first birthday without Emily. And she comforted me when I cried on my birthday. I told her I wasn't crying because I missed Emily, but I think we both knew the truth.

It was a rainy Saturday morning that I had planned to spend in bed. Katie and Effy had gone to the countryside for the weekend – a couple's getaway. Cook and I had gone out last night and I had the hangover of the century to prove it.

So you could imagine my annoyance when somebody buzzed my flat at 7:30 that morning, while I was trying to sleep.

I got out of bed, not bothering to put any clothes on as I slumped over to the intercom.

"Fuck off, will you, it's a fucking Saturday," I mumbled into the intercom as I turned to walk away.

But the buzzing didn't stop. So I gave up and buzzed them up.

I went back into my room, pulled on a pair of underwear and a baggy singlet. I heard a knock on the door as soon as I'd finished dressing, and slumped over to the door. I probably looked a bloody mess – I was still wearing all my dark eye makeup from last night, which was probably smeared half down my face by this point. My hair, which had been teased last night, was probably so messy and frizzy that I likely resembled Diana Ross.

I opened the door and leaned against the doorframe, closing my eyes.

"Whaddaya want," I mumbled, bringing my hand up to rub against my forehead.

"Um... hi, Naoms."

My eyes sprang open and I nearly threw up at the sight of the person before me.

Emily.

"Oh, god, you can't be here, no," I said as I flew into action, trying to push her away from my door and trying to shut it in her face. But she just pushed past me into my apartment, and I'm not quite sure how she managed it.

"Naoms, please," she pleaded, her voice thick, as though she was about to cry. "Please, please don't throw me out, please."

She actually started crying and collapsed on my floor, surrounded by about five over-stuffed suitcases.

"I know I've fucked it up and you hate me and I hate me and it's all ruined and I'm sorry I left you without an explanation and I'm sorry I never called you and I'm sorry I hurt us," she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "But please, let me explain, please, please, Naoms, let me explain."

I could only stare at the woman before me, a woman who was only a shade of the Emily I'd once loved. Her hair was black and her complexion looked sallow and she looked thinner than I'd ever seen her before. Her eyes no longer shone as they once did, but instead held a pain and an emptiness I couldn't begin to comprehend. She seemed hysterical and obviously very upset.

My heart ached and for some reason my hands started to hurt and I knew I couldn't throw her out because the last time my hands started to hurt was the first time I told her I loved her and I knew I loved her still, no matter how often I denied it to others and myself.

"I need a drink," I muttered before walking into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of vodka out of the freezer, as well as picking up two shot glasses.

I sat down in front of her and pushed her bags away, putting a shot glass in front of her and filling up my own shot glass. I shot it down eagerly, hoping to numb my headache and my heart.

I filled up Emily's shot glass and looked down at the floor, not wanting to see Emily and how she looked now.

I heard her swallow the vodka down, and listened to her place her shot glass back on the floor.

"Two years ago, I was working in London as a barmaid. I had a really small apartment a short walk away from the place."

I had no idea what this had to do with her leaving me or why she hadn't called, but I listened regardless.

"One night, I stayed after hours. We'd had a party for the owner of the pub and I'd offered to clean up. It was his birthday. We'd all been drinking, all the staff. I left to walk home about two hours later than usual. I'd always walked the same route home, I didn't even really know of a different way to walk home. I walked by an alley, and someone sprang out at me. Grabbed me from behind. But they whispered in my ear, and I recognized their voice and I knew I'd spoken to them before. They had been waiting for me. He forced me into a car and gagged me, though screaming wouldn't have done me any good anyways since there was no one on the street, and the area wasn't residential. He took me back to his flat, carried me up to his apartment, handcuffed me to his bed and he raped me.

"When he'd finished, he uncuffed me and left the apartment. I let myself out and walked back to my flat, which took me two hours since I got lost so many times and had no idea where I was. When I got home, I took a shower and spent the rest of the day in bed. I couldn't move.

"The next day, I went to a shop, one of those shops that sells investigative and self defense things. I bought myself pepper spray, and a taser gun. Then I went to a knitting store and I bought the biggest knitting needles I could find that would still fit in my hand bag.

"I walked back to his apartment, hoping to find him there, but I found the apartment empty. I asked his neighbours who he was, but very few knew his first name, let alone his last name. I asked people at the bar if they knew John. His name was John. Someone said they knew a John Foster, but they doubted I knew him – he was a psychiatrist, ran in different circles than I would have. He'd only come to the bar a few times. But it was all I had to go on. So I left London, went back home to Bristol, and asked JJ to run background checks on every John Foster in England. JJ's very good with computers...doesn't talk about it much, it embarrasses him.

"I'd been searching for John Foster for two years before I found the right one. He was still living in London, living not too far from the pub where I used to work. I lied about the job. I didn't have one waiting for me in London. But I did have something I had to do. I went to his apartment, his real apartment. I don't want to tell you what I did to him because, well, I'm not sure that you could handle it. After he was unconscious, I snooped through his apartment and found a whole closet full of tapes. I found one called Emily. He'd taped raping me.

"It was better than I could've hoped for. I wouldn't have to kill him, I would just show the tape to the police, and he could be charged. So that's what I did. Of course, it was very difficult to explain the rod up John's ass to the police, and also how I'd managed to get him naked and had the time to restrain him if I was only defending myself. They also wondered how I'd managed to get him still enough to tattoo 'Rapist Pig' on his forehead, but they didn't need to know that he was unconscious by that point."

She sighed heavily and looked up at me. I'd managed to look at her as soon as I started to realize where her story was going. I'd cried when she said she was raped.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on. I didn't want these parts of my life to meet. John was so horrible and you were so perfect and I didn't want you to pity me. I didn't want you to feel as though I was a delicate petal who couldn't defend herself or take care of herself or have the courage to report a rape to the police. I'm sorry."

I moved over to her so quickly that I knocked over our shot glasses and the bottle of vodka and I hugged her as tightly as I could. I felt every bone in her body against my flesh, and I kissed her face. I whispered that I loved her and that nobody was braver than she was and that I missed her and I told her I loved her some more.

And then Emily cried for the first time since she started telling her story. And I cried, too.

Serious stuff. Please leave a review letting me know what you thought. No smiley faces today - doesn't go with the serious nature of the chapter. But know that I still love you all and appreciate your reviews.