Maybe I’m just so overcome with grief and on the edge of being completely distraught that there is a little girl deep down inside me that does need her mother—even if that means looking into the face of disappointment—even if it means I have to deal with my father as well.
I swore I’d never need them again. I’m was so damn comfortable on my own two feet.
Now I don’t even have the willpower to stand…
My mother arrives at the Marigold Hotel like a mother hen ready to peck the eyes out of anyone who stands between her and her daughter. I’ve never seen this side of her. I expect her to launch into a tirade and tell me how much of a disappointment I am, but all she does is hug me.
Where has this version of her been all my life?
She escorts me to the car and doesn’t say much on the ride home. She comments on the weather, pats my hand a few times, and I feel like I’ve regressed so far I don’t recognize the woman staring back at me from my own reflection in the window.
I was supposed to be strong. Brave. I literally walked into a den of thieves with my head held high to save my brother. Then I stepped out on a stage and took my clothes off for strangers to pay a debt that wasn’t mine.
That doesn’t even seem real right now.
The car comes to a stop in the driveway I used to play in when I was a little girl, and I feel like her again when I step out of the car. My father is on the porch with a stern expression on his face, and it doesn’t look like the rage has left his eyes.
Once again, I expect pure carnage as I’m told how much of a disappointment I am, but instead of that, I get another hug. I can’t remember the last time he hugged me.
“Dad…” I break down in his arms. Not because of Bram. Not because of the wound in my heart.
Where has this version of him been all my life? Have my parents been replaced by aliens? It feels like the Twilight Zone. It’s a hell of a way to sober up quickly.
My parents bring me inside and sit me down at the dinner table. My mom brings a plate of food while my father rights next to me and holds my hand. I’m really not hungry, but I pick at my food because it’s easier than telling them I don’t want to eat.
It takes a little time before my emotions catch up with what is going on around me, then every bite I’ve managed to get down sours in my stomach.
The look on their faces. The way they’re treating me. They think I’m a victim—they think Bram has done awful things to me. They still see me as a little girl instead of a woman.
That’s the mentality I ran from. They never stopped treating me like a child who disappointed them at every turn. They’re treating me the exact same way, except they have someone else to put the blame on—Bram is the one shouldering all of their disappointment and scorn on.
He doesn’t deserve that. They have no idea what he actually did.
“I need to go lie down.” I put down my fork and stand from the dinner table.
“If you need anything, we’re here for you.” My father squeezes my hand before I pull it away.
“Thank you…” I mutter a response.
I feel worse than I did at the hotel. I’m existing in the middle of a lie. If my parents knew the truth, my mother would’ve probably left me in that hotel room to rot. I climbed into Bram’s bed. He didn’t take advantage of me. He allowed me to explore fantasies, dig into the deepest part of my mind, and he literally saved me.
I wasn’t a toy he was using for his amusement.
Once I’m in bed, I stare at my phone. I haven’t gotten a single call since my mother came to get me. Am I not even worth a text message?
Then I feel my emotions shift to actual concern.
What if my father really hurt him? What if he’s in the hospital somewhere, and I’m the one who is abandoning him?
“I brought you some tea. It should help you get some rest.” My mother walks into my room unexpectedly. “Unless you plan to stare at your phone all night.”
“No…” I put it down and take the tea.
I don’t deserve the kindness I’m being shown. If they would have just looked at me like I was a disappointment or abandoned me, I would’ve gotten the reaction I expected. This feels strange. It’s not right. I should’ve run to Bram instead of running away from him. I should’ve shielded him from my father.
“Drink, sweetheart.” My mother sits beside me and taps the cup of tea.
I take a few sips of tea on command, and it does a particularly good job of relaxing me—too good. I’ve had a few of my mom’s relaxing blends before, and they never made me sleepy from the first sip.
“Is there something in this?” I look down at the cup.
“You’ll be fine. Go ahead and stretch your legs out.” She moves away from the bed.
I feel my hand tremble, and my mother takes the teacup before I can drop it. There’s definitely something in it, but I’m getting too hazy to care. I know she has good intentions, but it isn’t how I wanted to relax…
I wanted to face my own despair instead of the darkness.
She’s taken that choice out of my hands.
Chapter Twenty
Bram
Watching the repair technician tinker with my phone is frustrating. It’s broken. No amount of tinkering is going to resurrect it.
“Maybe if we replace the screen…” He fiddles with the front cover.
“Look, I don’t care
