Tension drains from my limbs. I cuddle her and she turns her head into my chest. I tuck her head under my chin. Her muscles twitch, her breathing evens out.
I let sleep pull me under, making sure to keep her plastered to me.
The images swamp me. I know I’m dreaming but I can’t stop myself.
"Don’t go, Mom."
My mother grips my arms, " I wanted to stay for you, but I can’t. I can’t do this, Saint. I’m sorry."
"So that's it?" Anger suffuses my chest, " You're leaving?" I take a step forward. At thirteen I already tower over her.
Her lips firm. "I tried, Saint, I really did. But it's too hard. You know what they say about ensuring you have your oxygen mask on before you fit it over your child, during turbulence on a flight—?
"What’s that got to do with anything?"
"This is my version of it, Saint." Her lips twist "I need to breathe. I need to make sure I survive, else I'll be of no use to anyone else."
She turns away, wheels her suitcase along as she heads for the door.
"Jasmine," my father calls after her, "if you leave, you'll never get another penny from me."
She pauses at the door. "You think I married you for your money, William? You are wrong. All I wanted was you, a home for us that I could fill with love. But that wasn’t enough for you. You wanted more power, more money…more everything. It’s why your son was kidnapped, and even then, you didn’t have the time to negotiate for his release."
"I paid up, didn’t I?"
She whirls around. "Open your eyes, William. Money doesn’t buy everything."
My father prowls forward. "It bought his freedom," he nods at me.
"At what cost?" She asks.
"He's free, isn't he?" my father huffs.
"Is he?" Her eyebrows knit. "Look around yourself, William, you've created a space which suffocates me."
"And whose fault is that?" My father prowls forward. "You couldn't cope with the fallout of his kidnapping. You couldn't be strong enough for him. Don’t push your shortcomings on me, woman."
"Oh, so you want to talk about my shortcomings, do you?" The skin around my mother's lips whitens. "And you think you're perfect, you—"
"Stop!" I bunch my fists at my side, "Both of you, shut up."
Silence, a beat. My mother flips her hair over her shoulder. "This is why I need to leave." She waves a hand in the air. "If I stay, it's only going to get worse, and that's not helping any of us."
Her fingers tighten on her suitcase. "I’m sorry, Killian. I truly am. But you are strong, you’ll get through this."
I won't.
I love you, Ma. Please, don't leave me, is what I want to say. Instead I press my lips together, force myself to swallow the scream that bubbles up inside. My throat hurts, my head feels like it's going to burst. What's wrong with me? Couples divorced all the time, and it happens to be my turn to face the shitstorm. Big fucking deal.
So why the hell do I want to bawl my eyes out right now?
"Let her go." My father prowls forward.
I glare at him, "You could at least pretend to care."
"It's no use." He drags his fingers through his hair. "People fall out of love, Saint."
The band around my chest tightens. "That's a bloody lousy excuse and you know that."
My ma wipes the tear that's rolled down my cheek. "You're hurting, Saint, but this too shall pass."
"What-fucking-ever," I growl.
She frowns at me. Sure, rebuke me for my bad language. Like you actually care. If she did, she’d stay, wouldn't she? I fold my arms over my chest.
She scrutinizes my features.
"What gets broken without being held?" she asks.
What's the answer? What is it? I cast around in my mind...come up blank.
"Well?" She tilts her head.
My heart begins to race. "I... I don't know." I force the words out. Sweat beads my palm.
"A promise." Her lips twist. "Imagine you are in a dark room. How do you get out?" Her chin wobbles.
I swallow, my fingers tremble and I shove them into the pockets of my pants, "I…I don’t know the answer to that either."
"Stop imagining.” She draws in a breath, “You get to imagine your life anyway you want it to be, so stop imagining what you don't want. Get out of the dark room. Face your fears. You, and only you, have the power to save yourself. Remember that, Saint."
She grimaces, then pulls off her ring, hands it over to me.
I stare at it. The fuck am I going to do with that?
She grabs my hand, pries open my fingers and closes them around her ring. "This is for you, Saint."
She brushes past me, down the steps.
My father draws abreast. He places his hand on my shoulder; I shake it off.
"She knew what she was getting into when she married me." His voice is hard, "She knew my business would always come first. She wanted more, and that wasn't part of our bargain."
He meets my gaze, unflinching. His blue eyes, so like mine, are cold. Calculating. A shiver runs down my spine.
"So this was all a...transaction?"
"You could call it that." His jaw hardens.
"And what about me?" My heart begins to thud.
His expressions forms into a mask. "You were a mistake."
"A mistake; it's all a mistake." I snap open my eyes. It’s that same familiar nightmare that has haunted me for so long. Why has it surfaced now? I glance around the room; it's empty.
30
Victoria
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
I hunch into the corner of the shower stall. What did I do? Why did I do it? I’d taunted
