Mom cups my face, her thumb caresses the graze Dad gave me on my temple. Her eyes fill with remorse.
“What happened?” she asks.
“Dad,” I tell her, brimming with hope that maybethistime she’ll believe me.
Her gaze search mine, disbelief lingering in them, as if I’d have the audacity to lie to her.
“Your dad did this to you? Are you serious?” she asks, her thumb touching my cheek where he slapped me. I bet it’s still red and swollen.
“I’m telling you the truth. He did this to me,” I say. My throat bobs with emotions that I try my best to throw down.
Mom stares at me. The wheels turning in her head in thought.
A whole minute passes and she doesn’t speak a word, so I pull my head out of her lap and sit up. Every muscle in my body screams. It hurts everywhere. But strangely it doesn’t matter anymore. In the past few months, pain has become a normal thing for me.
It’s surprising how much a person can change in a small amount of time.
“Hope…” Mom reaches for me but I grab her hand and put it on her lap.
“It’s fine if you don’t believe me.”
“That’s not true. I believe you… I just… your dad would never…he never hit you.” Her voice breaks as she speaks. A second later, her sniffle eats away the uncomfortable silence in the room.
I turn my head and catch the sight of her crying.
“Alex would never do it to you. He promised me. He told me.” A sob breaks out of her. “I begged him to never go near you. I asked him so many times.He told me.”
Her tears fall like raindrops as they hit the floor and create a puddle of pure despair and heartbreak. Her body shakes as she sits kneeling next to me and completely breaks down.
My hand itches to reach for hers and hold it to provide comfort, but the past few months flash through my mind. All those moments when I tried to reach her in hope that maybe she’ll do something, and when I did she broke my trust. When she rejected me, she shattered something deep inside me. Making me believe that no one would believe me if I told them.
Mom cries while I listen to her. Until I can’t.
Against my absolute resolve, I reach for her, because at the end of the day I love her. Ever since I was a kid she’s the only one who’s been there for me. With no friends or siblings, she’s stuck by my side and we used to do everything together. She loved me, cared for me, andprotectedme. Despite the distance that has come between us in the past couple of months, what she’s done for me over the years is not something that I can ever pay back.
“I’m sorry for letting this happen to you,” she whispers.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is. I should have believed you when you told me. I just never imagined that Alex would hurt you.”
Yeah. Me too.
“Dad has changed a lot. He’s not the same person anymore.” Not that he was good before. He used to abuse Mom. I watched things that I shouldn’t have. Everything he did changed my perspective on love and relationships.
Love starts off as a bright shade of red, but with time it turns maroon and then black. Darkness encapsulates it and it morphs into something that only brings pain and emptiness.
That’s the definition of love for me.
The kind of love I’ve watched my whole life.
One that I don’t want for myself or anyone.
“He feels the same to me,” she murmurs, touching her wedding band with a tenderness that reflects her deep love for him. “When he walked through the door that morning, my heart started beating the same way it did when he first set his eyes onme. There was something about him that pulled me to him and in one month I fell in love with him.”
Mom smiles sardonically. “I had promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved with a guy until I had completed my studies and was working, but all my plans went down the drain when I met your dad. His bad reputation attracted me. He was the complete opposite of me yet we fit together so well. I knew I was with the wrong guy but he felt right in all the right ways. I was a different person with him. So I didn’t hesitate when he suggested that we get eloped. I was in my last semester of med school and I had a lot going on, but the idea of spending the rest of my life with him was more appealing than getting a job and achieving my dreams.”
My heart was in my throat. This is the first time Mom has ever told me their story. I’ve known parts here and there, but never the whole thing.
