Author's Notes: Wow, thank you for all the reviews! : ) They really helped me to continue with the story! And I'm glad you like it so far! I hope you'll like this part, too! Please let me know what you think! : ) Thanks!

I forgot to thank Courtney the last time, sorry Court! She beta read most of this! : ) Her input is great! Thank you! ::hugs:: Also thanks to everybody else who read it and reassured  and encouraged me to go on. : )

Anyway, here's the next part:

My hand is still shaking when I finally reach out to take his.

It feels warm when I finally reach it, and he starts to rub the back of my fingers with his thumb. He is so careful with me. He knows I need time.

I know I need him, but I still don't think I can tell him.

"You know I love you. And you know I won't hurt you," he says while he starts to pull me towards him slowly, gently, waiting for a reaction from me.

I don't object. I want to be close to him again. Close to him without feeling the fear of getting hurt another time.

He reaches out with his left hand to caress my cheek, but stops before he touches me. "Okay?" he asks.

I nod.

He strokes my cheek softly and cups my face with his hand.

I am still reluctant, but I allow him to pull me closer, into his arms.

He lets go of my left hand and his arm reaches around me, starts to rub my back slowly and carefully.

His other hand reaches up to pull my head to his chest.

I am in his arms now and I am glad. I feel that the fear is gone, I feel safe and protected again, with him.

I'd feared I'd never be able to be close to a man again, but I'm so glad that I was wrong. I don't know about other men, but he is all that counts.

I know that I can trust him and that he won't ever hurt me.

My heart won over my instinct.

He rocks me gently and moves his hand up and down my back.

"I am here for you," he whispers and I know it's true.

I feel the tears falling from my eyes now and bury my head even deeper into his chest.

First they fall slowly, but the longer I am in his embrace, the more I can let go of my facade, show him how I really feel.

We both don't say anything for a while, he just holds me and lets me cry. All that is audible are the sobs that are now racking my body.

He begins to gently move me over to the bed and I wipe away the last of the tears.

We sit down next to each other and he takes my hand.

I know he is looking at me, but I can't look at him. I can't look into his eyes.

It is not fear anymore that I feel. I'm not scared of him. But I am still hurt. And there is something else I feel. It is shame.

I am ashamed of what I let that man do to me. That I didn't stop him, that I couldn't. I feel weak and powerless. Like any man can take what he wants from me and I can't do anything to make them stop. I feel guilty, like it's my fault.

And I regret that I didn't take Susan's offer.

The shame I feel now, with him, is overwhelming.

As if he could read my mind, he lifts up my chin to make me look at him.

I try to avoid the eye contact at first, but I can tell that he cares deeply and to look into his eyes makes me feel stronger.

"Can you talk about it now?" he finally asks.

I shrug my shoulders.

I know I want to tell him, but I don't know if I can.

"Hey, I will listen to you, no matter how much time you need."

I nod again.

I take a deep breath as I try to gather all my strength to tell him what happened.

I still don't know if I can do this. I have no idea how I am supposed to get any words out. I can hardly control my sobs – I'm choking on them – but I know that even though it won't be easy, he will listen to me.

I sigh again before I finally start to speak.

"I … I don't even know where to begin…"

"Hey, that's okay," he says and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Take your time."

I look down at my hands. They are playing with the rim of his shirt the whole time. I am nervous and I don't know what else to do with them. I don't know anything.

I'd love to tell him. I trust him and I know he will love me, even if he knows.

But this is even harder than I thought it would be. How do you explain something to another person when you can't even begin to understand it yourself? Something that you don't want to understand yourself.

You want to forget it, because it hurts you and scares you. But you know you won't be able to forget. Not any time soon. And that scares you even more.

But I know I have to talk about it. Though it doesn't feel like that at the moment, I know it will help me. Help me to live with it. Maybe even to forget a little. I don't think I will ever be able to forget it completely.

I need him to love me through this. I need to feel loved even though I can't love myself.

I look up into his eyes again. He is looking at me patiently, reassuring me simply with his presence, without any words, that what I do is okay. That it's okay that I need time. That it's okay to tell him.

He knows what I need now. I need some time to put it into words. To make him understand what I don't really understand myself.

Though I think he knows anyway. Or he has at least an idea. If I let him take a wild guess now, I am sure he'd be right. The look in his eyes changed since he saw the bruise. He didn't believe a single word of what I'd said, not for one second.

I don't know why I lied to him. I guess I was hoping that it wouldn't be real if nobody knew. I thought maybe I could wake up the next day and pretend it was a dream. A very bad dream, but just a dream.

But that won't happen.

I take a deep breath before I try to talk about it again. His hand is still lingering on my shoulder, his fingers are forming small circles. He is trying everything in his power to make me relax. And gradually, it begins to work.

"I had a late shift," I begin.

He just nods, but doesn't say a word. He doesn't want to interrupt or push me. He knows the first words are the hardest. I am glad that he will just let me talk, though I know he wants to ask me so many questions.

"I was in the bathroom, changing my clothes," I continue. "Susan was there, too."

I have to take a deep breath again. I know my voice is barely audible, but I feel like I'm beginning to finally calm down a bit.

"She offered me a ride home."

To think about it is beginning to upset me again. I can't stand the thought that I could have avoided this if only I listened to her.

"And I was joking about it." A bitter laugh escapes my lips and I have to try hard to hold back the tears that are stinging in my eyes again. I don't want to cry now, I want to get it out.

"I told her that it's not that dangerous and that I could get home by myself. She asked me again, but I told her that I wanted to take the El. If only ... "

"Hey," he interrupts me. He knows that I blame myself, that I think it's my fault.

"Whatever happened, don't blame yourself. I won't let you do that," he whispers.

I know he is right. It won't help anyone if I blame myself. It only makes it harder, though I know he is doing the same. He is blaming himself, I can see it in his eyes. He wishes he had picked me up at the El station. He wishes he could have protected me from this, from everything bad in the world. We both know he that he couldn't, that nobody can.

And still, I can't stop blaming myself either. The big 'What if?' is on my mind.

What if I wasn't so stubborn? I could have come home to him, looking forward to lying in his arms on the couch, watching TV. Looking forward to making love to him.

Now I can't even think about it. This is not only going to ruin my life, but his as well. I can't do this to him. He doesn't need a relationship like this. What does he want with me? I don't even know if I can ever be intimate with him again.

I don't think he'll even still want to be intimate with me again, not once he knows.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this. Maybe you'd better go now," I say weakly, not really thinking about the words.

But it's too late. They are out and I hurt him with them.

"What?" he asks in disbelief.

I remember that it's the middle of the night and that it wouldn't be fair to tell him to go now. All this is not his fault.

"I'll sleep on the couch then," I say and get up from the bed.

He gets up as well and stands in my way. "Why?"

I stare at him. I don't know what to say. There is no real reason. I don't want him to go. I don't want to sleep on the couch, far away from him. I just don't want to ruin his life as well.

And I want to forget the whole incident as soon as possible.

"I ... I don't know," I stutter. "I just don't know what I can give you in the future."

"You don't need to give me anything, Abby. Just let me be with you. Just trust me. Let me love you."

"You don't understand. I'm scared. This changed my life forever, and it will be the same with yours if you don't go. It will never be the same again. You better go while you can."

"Don't try to push me away Abby. I'm not going anywhere."

I needed to hear that from him. I give in and we sit both down on the bed again. I don't know how he can always make me trust him, how he can always bring me to open up to him, but he can … and does.

"What happened then?" he asks me gently.

I don't think much, I just go on. If I think more now, I will never get it out.

"I took the El then. I had the feeling that someone was following me, but when I turned around nobody was there. I thought I was imagining things. But ... "

I have to pause for a minute. I thought the beginning was hard, but to come to the point is even harder.

He rubs my arm gently to reassure me. I look at him and through my watery eyes, I can see that his eyes are filled with tears as well.

"He grabbed me from behind and ... he covered my mouth with his hand. He pulled me in an alleyway ... I was lying on the ground and he had a knife. He said he'd kill me if I screamed. Then he began to unbutton my blouse and my jeans …"

Now I really can't go on. Hot tears are running down my cheeks. I know my last words were hardly audible, but I also know he understood them.

"Did he ... ?" he asks. I can see that he is not sure if he should say this, but he has to know.

And I knew he'd ask. He can't even say it out loud, and neither can I.