I was alone with my thoughts. She chose my abuser over me, and I couldn’t fathom how a mother could ever make that decision.
THIRTY-SEVEN
PRESENT
Serenity and I returned to her place after her birthday party. I couldn’t believe how many unsupportive people were in her life. Her so-called friends managed to give the most backward ass compliments. Don’t even get me started on her mom. I could tell from Serenity’s demeanor the rest of the night that being around her was tough. Serenity seemed to crave her mom's approval so much.
A sudden bang came from the bathroom where Serenity was taking a shower.
I knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?” I yelled through the door.
She sounded incoherent, so I slowly opened the door. I was surprised to hear her crying. Not just crying but sobbing. Loudly. I approached the curtain quickly. “Can I please help?”
I waited for her muffled approval before I opened the curtain. She kept sobbing, gasping for air between sobs. My heart sank when I saw her. She was sitting on the bathroomfloor, rocking back and forth with her knees hugged to her chest. I didn’t even hesitate before hopping in the shower, sitting behind her, and pulling her close to my chest. I reached over to turn the water to the coldest setting. Darla told me cold showers could ease anxiety, so hopefully it worked for whatever Serenity was experiencing.
“I got you, you’re safe,” I kept repeating into her ear. We stayed in the cold shower until Serenity’s body shakes turned into shivers from the cold, and her crying subsided.
She turned and looked up to me with her sad, storm-cloud eyes. The sad eyes I remembered from that first day I met her. The eyes that made me want to know her story—know her. Her expression quickly changed to one of embarrassment. “I’ve been right where you are, so there is no need to feel embarrassed. I’ll even help you get dressed if you need me to. I will respect your body, but I also want to take care of you. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just let me be there for you.”
She nodded slowly as her tears began to fall again. I reached around her and turned off the shower. I stood up from the tub floor, stripping out of my wet clothes aside from my boxers. I grabbed the yellow towel from the towel rack and wrapped her up in it. I opted to carry her back to her room. She nuzzled her face into my neck and put an arm around my shoulder. I took her to her bed, where she sat with the towel wrapped around her, head hanging low in defeat.
“Can you tell me where your night clothes are or point me in the general direction?” She looked so broken, and it shattered my heart. She pointed to the dresser next to her desk. I opened a few drawers before I found one with nightgowns and pajamas; I picked out a long red T-shirt. I gently put it over her head, delicately removing the towel to pull the shirt down.
“I can get my own underwear,” she said, walking toward the dresser. I stayed close by in case she lost her balance. Once dressed, she got back into her bed.
“Will you be okay if I wash up and change myself? I’ll be quick, promise.”
“Yes, thank you,” she whispered. I gathered my clothes from my bag and went to the bathroom.
I showered in under five minutes. I was so worried about Serenity and wanted to be in her presence.
“How are you feeling?” I climbed into bed next to her.
“I’m better now. I’m sorry about all of that.” She looked away, picking at her cuticles.
“Look at me, please,” I pleaded. “You never have to apologize for feeling your emotions at the deepest level—especially on your birthday. I hate seeing you so sad and wish there was something I could do.”
“You did more than I could ever hope for. I’ve never had someone so willing to take care of me before. And trust me, that wasn’t the first time I had an episode like that.” She looked down. “I hope you don’t think I’m being dramatic.”
“I had a panic attack on our first date, so I’d never think that of you. I’m here for you no matter what. Do you want to talk about it?” I asked hesitantly.
“Tonight was hard,” she admitted. “I was not expecting to feel that way, but trauma has a way of not giving a single fuck about your expectations.”
“I didn’t realize how judgmental your mom would be. Her husband seemed laid back.” Her face paled. “What is it? You can talk to me, but no pressure.”
“Andrés was the reason I was so on edge tonight, not my mom,” she said, cuddling closer to me. “She didn’t help, though.”
I furrowed my brow. Andrés and I talked a good bit during dinner, and he seemed like a decent guy. “What do you mean?”
She remained silent. I didn’t know what I’d do if I found out Andrés hurt her in any way. I already felt so protective of her, and she hasn’t had many people look out for her throughout her life. I’d do everything in my power to ensure she felt cared for and safe.
“I had a bad feeling about him since the day I met him,” she started. “I never quite liked the guys my mom would bring home, especially when I had to live alone with them when she would travel for work. He was constantly in my space.”
“How old were you when you first met him?” She shifted her body to look at me.
“I was eleven,” she replied. “I didn’t feel comfortable being home anymore. He didn't do anythingthatbad until I was twelve.”
I clenched my jaw. She was a child. “What did he do?” I tried my hardest to keep my tone low and controlled. I balled my hands into fists to keep them steady. If anyone had put a hand on Luna when she was a kid, I would have been forced to protect her. I would have done just aboutanythingto protect her.
