“Don’t swear in front of?—”
“What, like heunderstands?” He shoots Eli a scornful look. “I fucking wish. Then at least he’d be able to string two words together.”
My jaw sets. I want to scream at him that, if he’d been a halfway decent father for even a day, Eli wouldn’t shut down when he’s with him. That he wouldn’t be afraid to say the wrong thing if Brad hadn’t taught him to fear him.
“Don’t talk about my son that way.:
“Yourson,” he spits. “Have you forgotten he’s mine, too? Or did you just fuck your way through too many men to remember, you stupid whore?”
“Don’t call her that!” Eli shouts, slipping from my grasp and throwing himself in front of me. “Stop being mean to Mommy!”
I try to push him back behind me, but he won’t have it. “Eli, don’t,” I whisper, terrified.
“My mom’s not stupid!” he screeches, sticking to the part of Brad’s insult he understands. “You’restupid! You’re always drunk and mean all the time! I liked it better when you were dead!”
Brad’s face turns red with rage. “One more word, young man?—”
“I HATE YOU!” Eli screams. “I don’t want you as a dad anymore! I want Yulian back!”
It happens too fast for me to stop it.
Brad’s palm collides with Eli’s shoulder. It’s just a shove, but Eli’s so small, it sends him sprawling on the carpet on the other side of the room.
Then Brad’s on me.
“Let me go!” I scream, completely unhinged. “You hurt him, you piece of shit! Let me go to him!”
Eli starts crying. It pulls at something primal inside me. Call it mother’s instinct, call it desperation.
I claw at Brad with all my strength?—
“OW, YOU BITCH!”
—and four red gashes open on the left side of his face.
It’s grotesque. Like a lioness took a swipe at him and didn’t miss. I had no idea I was capable of such viciousness, such brutality.
I search for regret, but I don’t find it.
Brad is clutching his face now. I realize there’s caked blood there, bruises I didn’t make. A huge Band-Aid on his nose. When did that happen? Was it at the gala?
Was itYulian?
“You fucking bitch,” he spits, nasally and outraged. “It’s all your fault that he hates me!”
“No,” I whisper. “That’s your own fault.”
“You turned him against me.”
“I didn’t—ugh!”
Brad’s forearm lodges under my chin. My throat feels like it’s about to be crushed, trapped between his arm and the wall at my back. I can’t speak—I can’tbreathe.
“Mommy!” Eli calls, desperate.
“You’ve ruined me,” Brad accuses. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, even now, in the middle of the day. Scotch and rotten wood. “You’ve ruined everything. All I wanted was for us to be a family.”
You wanted us to be yours,I try to croak but can’t.You never wanted us to be a family. You just wanted us.
