The Break In

"I'll take care of it," Paul swallowed.

"Keep it short, and vague: no details. Use it to plead to the community for help, etc."

"Got it. Well, we have an appointment with a therapist soon. Please let us know if you find anything else." Paul said, and Tildy nodded.

"Of course!" They all stood up at the same time. Tildy gave him a big hug and gave him a peck on the cheek. Her eyes were starting to leak again. "Thanks for everything." her cracked voice added. Paul gave him a hearty handshake, his own eyes were watery.

6.

They arrived downtown and walked into a medical building. According to the sign, the doctor they were booked with was on the third floor. After a short elevator ride, they walked into a small foyer. The receptionist asked for their names, and checked a list and let them know she would be just a few more minutes.

"Tildy? Paul?" called a voice.

"Here," Paul answered.

The foyer had three doors; left, middle, and right. A silver haired lady was standing at the left door. They were in her office in just a few steps. Her desk sat facing the window, her office chair was turned to face the couch that faced the window. They took their seats, as she checked her notes.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Joyce, but you can just call me Joyce. Let me begin by saying there is very little chance anything you could have done would change the outcome. Any guilt or shame you are feeling is totally normal. I'm here to try to help you come to terms with this so it doesn't consume your life."

Tildy mustered the courage to speak, "Excuse me doctor, but if I am the victim of rape, shouldn't I be alone with you?"

Joyce nodded with an understanding look. "Allow me to explain; I am a marriage counselor by trade, but I donate my time to help with the Rape Crisis Center." She looked at her notes, "I understand you were assaulted, but your husband was forced to watch?"

"Yes," Tildy's voice cracked.

"So, I believe you were both victims of this crime. While your violation was so much worse, I'm sure your husband is also struggling emotionally with this. Men tend to bottle up their emotions, and it's important to come to terms with what both of you are feeling. If you like, I can counsel you separately. But my advice is since both of you are affected by this, it might help if counseling was provided 'eodem tempore'. At the same time." she finished.

Paul looked at Tildy, "Whatever you prefer honey."

"Both, I guess" after some thought.

"Trauma like this takes time to recover from. Sadly, you will physically recover faster than your psyche. Let me begin with a short exercise. I want you to write down the worst part of what happened, for you personally." She handed them both a small note pad and pen.

Both wrote a quick couple of sentences, then tore off the page and handed them to Joyce. She read them quickly and underlined words on both papers. She took a deep breath, and sighed.

"Okay, time to get to work. I had you write it down, because people will struggle to say what they are feeling, emotions will rise up and make it very difficult to speak. Now, Tildy, you wrote that 'your husband didn't protect you' earlier on, but then wrote 'he got excited' at the bottom. Paul, you wrote 'she stopped fighting' and later said 'she seemed to enjoy it'. Take a moment before writing and reflect on how that makes you feel, personally, to hear that. Then write why your partner is wrong to think that.

Both of them, after a pause, started writing, and this time they wrote for longer than before, both nearly filled the paper before tearing it off and handing it to her. She read them, circling words again. She looked up at them, looking pleased.

"I'm going to explain something about the human brain. When you breathe, you don't have to think about it. Your brain does it automatically. You can take over your breathing, for yoga or meditation, but your brain continues to automatically control breathing once you're done."

They both nodded.

"The part of your brain that controls that is the medulla oblongata. It also controls any number of automatic responses; such as 'fight or flight'. We sometimes call it the lizard brain in all of us because it goes all the way back to our caveman days. Tildy, Paul; neither of you could stop from becoming aroused because you were not in control- your lizard brain was. Your brain activated a kind of caveman instinct. It is impossible for a human body, male or female, to not become aroused if stimulated. Do you understand or have any questions?"

"Why?" both spoke in unison.

"Our bodies are made to procreate, to have babies. Tildy could not help to be aroused because the body is reacting to physical stimuli. Paul, you could not help being aroused because your body had visual stimuli. Both of your bodies reverted to your caveman brain."

Their eyes grew in understanding.

"One of the biggest challenges for survivors of rape, is the shame and guilt they feel afterwards. Their bodies seemingly betray them feeling the arousal. Our society conditions us with these 'civilized' notions of what is proper, but our bodies very quickly revert to a caveman during a crisis."

"But Paul wasn't raped, I was." Tildy started choking up. Paul reached out to hold her, but quickly realized she didn't want to be held.

"Tildy...please listen to me. You were raped physically, your husband was raped mentally."

There was a long pause after that. Something in the room changed with that comment. Both of them were absorbing what they were hearing. After she felt they were ready to move on, she continued.

"During World War II, the Japanese raped thousands of women at Nanking. Many times, their husband and even their families were made to watch. Survivors who were interviewed reported the same feelings you are both now experiencing."

They both took a breath, trying to control their emotions. When it got to be too much, both of them started crying, tears rolling down their faces. Both instinctively leaned towards each other and held each other. It wasn't long before both of them were sobbing. Joyce got up and fetched a box of tissue, handing it to them, patiently waiting. After several long minutes, they started to get themselves under control.

"In the days to come, and weeks, you will suddenly need to release your emotions. Let them. Am I correct in saying you've been trying to 'stay in control' since the assault?" Joyce asked.

Both nodded from the couch.

"I have some homework for you two. This is just a preliminary meeting. Given the severity of your experience, you will continue to experience run away emotions. That's normal! Feel those emotions, they are a perfectly valid response to what you experienced. Do not try to bury them, that way lies more pain."

They nodded again, somehow feeling a little better already.

'Now turn to each other, and repeat after me; 'I am sorry this happened to you. I am sorry you are suffering. I am here to help you. I am here to love you without judgment."

They repeated what she said, as she said it. By the time they finished both were sobbing again. They leaned forward and held each other for a long time.

"Your homework is to repeat that to each other till we meet again, you choose the time and place. Next, Tildy I want you to repeat this mantra to yourself whenever you feel overwhelmed. 'This happened to me; I will not let it define me. What happened is in the past; I will determine my future."

Tildy nodded while she wiped away the remaining tears.

"Paul, this is your mantra. 'This happened to us; I will not let it define us. What happened is in the past, we will determine our future."

He nodded vigorously.

She rose with open arms, they met her in a giant hug. Crying again, this time on her shoulder. They scheduled the next meeting for the same day and time a week later.

7.

As they drove home, they felt lighter. A pressure they didn't know they were feeling seemed to have been lifted. When they did talk, it was small talk. Neither wanted to bring up what happened. When they got home, they ordered delivery. Paul called a home security company, and ordered one for the house. They said they could upgrade the lock on the side door to match the front and back. They would be by tomorrow. Paul poured them both a glass of wine, and they sat to watch TV. Nothing serious, a comedy show they could laugh at. Food arrived, and they ate it without relish. When it was time to go to bed, Paul suggested Nyquil when he couldn't find a sleep aid. She agreed it would help them sleep. As a precaution, Paul nailed the side door shut. Then he realized how Tildy had reacted to the bedroom when they returned from the hospital.

"We can sleep on the couch, if you want," he said cautiously.

"No, I think I'm better now."

When they got in bed, they faced each other and repeated what Joyce had them say. They were soon asleep, spooning each other. At about 3am, Tildy started tossing and turning, waking Paul. He raised up on his elbow and spoke to her in her sleep.

"You're safe, You're okay. You are home safe and sound."

Her body relaxed, her breathing settled down. Paul got closer, and reached his arm around her, and gave her a hug. Her hand moved to hold his arm. The dawn light started peeking through the windows, hours later. The security company would be coming by later in the day. Paul thought once they had the new system in place, with a new lock he would get her out of the house. Park, Beach, mall? Whatever she wanted. They took a shower together, the hot water helping both wake up and relax. Paul approached her and cupped her bottom. She pulled away, as a reflex...then took a breath and turned and hugged him.

"Not yet," she whispered "but we will. Please wait for me."

He kissed her, "of course."

They got dressed, Paul asked her preference of where she wanted to go, and the beach sounded great. They sat down to breakfast when Paul saw something. Outside, past their lawn was a news van.

"Shit!"

She followed his eyes, and saw it too. "Already? I thought we might have another day before we dealt with that." Her lip trembled.

"I'll take care of it." hugging her.

Paul got an old zip up hoodie out of the closet, and went out to the yard. The back wall had an unused door that opened to the alley behind their property. He stepped out, and walked around till he was approaching his house from the street. He pulled up his hoodie and joined the knot of neighbors about 50 feet from his house. He could hear the reporter talking to the camera man.

"Break in robbery, it seems. We'll get a statement and bounce." the camera man nodded.

Paul, retreated his steps till he was closing the gate in the backyard. He then walked in from the sliding glass door. She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"They don't know," he unzipped his hoodie. "Okay, I got this."

Paul stepped out the front door, the newsman immediately straightening up. He stood in front of the garage door and waited. A minute later, the cameraman and reporter were standing 3 feet in front of him. With a mic pointed at Paul, he asked "Sir, can you tell us what happened here, the night before last?"

"First, camera off," he ordered.

The cameraman lowered it, but didn't fool Paul. The light was still green.

"Camera off, mic off or you talk to my attorney."

Both the reporter, and cameraman complied, and waited.

"Before I give you a statement, you will agree to only show me giving a statement. You can only show the garage door as a background. You do not have my permission to show the house. No address. Furthermore, any statements given by the neighbors must be stricken. If you do not comply with these, your company will be sued by my attorney."

The reporter agreed, and the cameraman raised his camera, the light green again.

Paul gave a short statement, he left the details out and asked the community for their support by giving them their space, and calling the police if they knew something.

"Is it true there was a rape?"

Paul repeated the same statement, and walked in the house.

"Shit, they know!" he growled.

"We can't control that," she said.

They got prepared for the beach, each taking a book to read and lawn chairs. Tildy remembered to grab the beach umbrella and sunscreen. They enjoyed the sun and quiet time, feeling a lot of pressure come off their shoulders. They were slowly getting on with their lives. They arrived just after one, as Det. Roberts was knocking on their door. They let him in, offering him coffee.

"No, thank you. Okay, I got more information. It seems a body has been found, we think it might be one of your assailants. We have identified him as one Carl Wilson, line cook. Looks like an OD. We think they fenced off your belongings in the black market, the local pawn shops were asked to post your list with serial numbers. That was a very good deterrent. Good job getting us that so fast. We think once they got the money, they partied and this one over did it. Carl Wilson's employer confirmed he suffered from halitosis."

Both Tildy and Paul took a big breath and breathed out. They gave each other a quick hug and smiled at the detective.

"Now the bad news. It's been more than 24 hours, while the chances drop noticeably, we still have a 60% chance they screw up and are identified. The APB is still in place. Since we identified Carl Wilson as a cook, that allows us to focus our investigation. All we need in one little break."

They nodded at the investigator. "Newsman was here earlier this morning. I kept it short and sweet. But the son of a bitch asked it was a rape." his knuckles tightening.

"Hmm, hard to keep those kinds of details contained. There's always someone along the line ready to line their pockets. Still, it sounds like you handled it well. Without confirmation, they can't print it."

They both sighed in relief.

8.

When the news story was reported, only the garage door was shown, and Paul's statement. They edited out the reporter's question. The reporter went on to talk about crime in general.

The next day passed without event. Both were getting back to a normal routine. Paul asked Tildy if she would be okay with him returning to work. She thought at least one more day. He agreed. They said their homework to each other at night, and once in a while Tildy had to repeat her mantra. They were pleasantly surprised that their homework and mantra helped dispel the anxiety. They were getting back to normal.

The day came when Paul returned to work. Tildy felt she wasn't strong enough yet, and would return herself after the week was over. She took the opportunity to get a massage and spend the day at the spa for some 'me' time. She got home around lunch time and whipped up an omelet with a few crepes. She was enjoying her breakfasty-lunch, and started a pot of coffee when there was a knock at the door.

She looked through the viewer, and saw Det. Roberts. A smile spread across her lips. She opened the door, and invited him in. He looked like he was in good cheer.

"Welcome, would you like some coffee?" she offered.

"Oh, I just finished a cup. Paul around?" he glanced around.

"Today is his first day back to work. I'll head back starting next week." she smiled.

He leaned forward and hugged her, happy she was doing as well as she was. She could smell that cologne of his again. His hug caught her slightly off guard. Her cheek rubbed against his stubble as they parted, she was blushing.

"Have a seat." he smiled. They both sat on the couch. "I wanted to tell you both, but I'm sure you don't want to wait." She was on pins and needles. He pulled a report from inside his jacket. He opened it up, and...

"The bodies of two individuals were discovered in a trailer, up in the foothills. They seem to have died from knife wounds, due to an altercation. We believe they were fighting over the remains of their drug supply, we believe they bought the drugs from money from the sale of stolen items from your house. Emory Stevens and Jake Wilson were pronounced dead on arrival. The coroner estimates they were dead a day and a half when found."

She was sobbing into her hands, a mix of happiness and rage and release of all the tension from the last several days. She was shaking uncontrollably. He reached over and hugged her across the couch. She climbed into his lap, curled into a fetal position as her sobs seemed to go on and on.

e was gently patting her back, and trying to hug and console her. His deep gravelly voice trying to sooth her.

"There, there, it's over. They're gone. You're safe."

Her sobbing started to abate. She was feeling woozy, the release of emotions combined with his soothing voice, and cologne was doing something to her. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him, the stubble adding to her wooziness.

"No, Tildy...that's not..." he protested.

She kissed him deeper, her hands enjoying the feeling of the stubble.

"Stop Tildy, we can't..."

She started removing her shirt, and since she wasn't wearing a bra, her breasts, perky and aroused, were looking at him, nipples to eyes.

"STOP," he protested.

But it was too late, his member was growing in arousal as well. She could feel it protruding since she was sitting in his lap. She started removing his jacket, and undoing his shirt. "Please...I need this! I need to have you!"

His hands were picking her up as he stood. But she used the opportunity to start working on his pants, her hands and body desperate for a further release.

"Tildy, we can't! I have a duty to fulfill"

"You did, and I'm rewarding you" she pushed him back. She stepped on his pants that were at his knees. She flipped down her sweatpants, fully nude she straddled him on the couch. His baton was up, and pointing at her, and she was going to use it.

"You can't...we shouldn't...think of Paul." he protested as she guided him in.

"It's my choice. And I'm giving myself to you. Take me!"

But she was taking him. Through the whole experience, his deep gravelly voice, his cologne and his manly bearing had been a source of comfort and safety. She owed him so much as far as she was concerned.

As she slid on top of him Det. Roberts realized he was losing this fight. He understood somehow that she was acting from some primitive need, a need that was very powerful. Call it the Sir Galahad complex if you will, the damsel rescued, she gives herself to her champion. She was riding him already, they had already gone past the point of no return. She kept kissing him with her tear soaked face and lips. He cupped her bottom as it bounced on him, her juices all the lubrication they needed. He stood up, carrying her to her marital bed. He hoisted her up high enough that her open legs allowed him to lick her 'le minou' - kitty. When they arrived he placed her down on the bed, and turned her around, piercing her ladyhood with his knightly sword. Her hands fell on the bed as he grabbed her breast from behind, cupping them, then flicking her nipples. His hips crashed in her backside and she moaned and pushed her body back towards him. She was so nice and tight, and it had been so long for him. Any man would have been cumming, but Roberts had a reputation for his dogged pursuit of his goals, and for his stamina.

"Fuck me harder, pull my hair. Punish me for being bad. Hurt me for cheating on Paul."

He was a man true to his word. He started spanking her, and not sexy little slaps. His rough hands were coming down on her backside with a strength she did not expect.

"Yeah, like that, harder... hurt me".

He shoved her on the bed flat, his sword inserting in a downstroke that was rubbing her g-spot mercilessly. His hands under her, massaging her breasts. She turned her head so he could kiss her, both moaning and panting into each other's mouths.