Last updated on October 17th, 2025 at 07:56 am
“Constance, are you there?” I ask on the phone. I’ve just told her that this call is supposed to be a dialogue, yet she gives no response.
“I’m here. What do you want, Joe?”
“I want us to have a chat,” I say, proud of myself for displaying a level of confidence that I don’t feel.
“Alright,” she answers, demurely. I really need her to be chatty and not timid, like she’s the victim. I groan inwardly.
“Constance, you were chatty a few minutes ago; now you’re acting withdrawn. What’s wrong?” I want to hit my head against the wall for asking her what’s wrong as if I care when I really don’t.
“Well, you snapped at me after I’ve carved out time from my busy schedule to talk to you after you’ve avoided my attempts at reconciliation for over a year. You call and I answer, that’s how it is.”
“Constance…” I was going to apologise, but I’d rather never get closure than apologise to Constance. I can’t believe she thinks that her messages about us getting “back together” are her own attempts at reconciliation. “I didn’t intend to snap. It wasn’t aimed at you.”
“Okay, so what do you want to know?”
“You touched me when I was fourteen,” I state, giving room for nothing contrary.
“I thought you wanted to talk about the messages I’ve been sending you.”
“Umm,” I clear my throat, buying some time to think. “Well, yes. I thought we could start from the beginning, if you get what I mean.”
“Okay. So what do you want me to say?” Constance is clearly testing me and I’m not too far from falling for her test. Thankfully, she isn’t denying it yet.
“Okay, let’s start with the reason. What led to what?”
“I was lonely.” She starts to cry. I briefly contemplate if this would have been better physically rather than over the phone.
“Constance… we don’t have the advantage of doing this physically, we’re both busy. We need to get it together so we can attempt a successful conversation.”
“Alright,” she sniffles. “I was lonely.”
“That’s it? That’s all?” I applaud myself mentally for not screaming.
“Yes,” she answers without adding more. I know she had a rough beginning and all, but still, it doesn’t justify what she did.
“So, why did you have to touch me? Were you ever abused?”
“I was never abused. I- I don’t know, I was naive then and you were always around. It was only you and me.”
“But you were twenty-two at the time and you even attempted more stuff when I was already much grown… do you really think it was still you being naive?” I don’t want to push too much, but I also have to get answers now that the opportunity is here.
“Yes, it started as loneliness. It was always the two of us in the house; my siblings never came to visit and it seemed as if your parents were avoiding us. I thought that it was also because of me. Everybody ran away from me, including my birth mother, even you.”
“Constance, I never ran away from you…not until you started touching me.”
“When you ran away in response to me touching you, it confirmed my belief that people always wanted to run away from me.”
“But what you were doing to me was wrong; I couldn’t have stayed.” I manage to explain without sounding harsh.
“It didn’t feel wrong, Joe.” She answers quietly. A headache sets in and I rub at my head absent-mindedly as I think of the best reply.
“Alright, Constance. Now that we’re both older, can you look back and actually see that it was wrong? I was in your care, supposedly, and you abused me. For me, it was wrong simply by virtue of my not wanting it.”
“I was lonely and naive. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to care for anyone; I had barely received any care all my life. Maybe it was wrong then, but it stopped being wrong when I fell for you.”
“You fell for me?” My head’s pounding heavily and I take some deep breaths to calm myself.
“Yes.”
“When, Constance?”
“As soon as you clocked sixteen.”
“Constance, what makes you think you were in love?”
“I still am.” She answers as a matter of fact. Now this isn’t what I expected.
“What changed at sixteen, Constance?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I never questioned it. It’s why I almost didn’t want to leave the house. It took you turning me down when you were older for me to know that you didn’t want me.”
“I really don’t know what to say… B- Before I was sixteen, you admit that it was wrong. How do you feel about that now?”
“Sometimes, good things start from unplanned events. Listen, I’m sorry for what happened then. But, Joe, I’m not sorry for loving you or falling in love with you.”
“Thank you for this conversation. You don’t know how much it means to me.”
“Yeah. I guess you have nothing to say about me being in love with you.”
“Constance, I- I really can’t process that right now. You know it.”
“Yeah, it’s never going to happen between us.” She says, and I think I hear her sniffle. Lordy Lord, why do I feel like the villain?
