I take the eggs from the carton and begin making them when I hear the sound of my bedroom door closing softly. If she wants to leave so bad, then there is nothing I can do to stop her. She isn’t my responsibility, even if I think she is stupid for wanting to go back to that asshole.It’s her choice. Her life. And I’ve got enough to deal with today without trying to save someone who doesnt want to be saved.Today is the anniversary of mydaughter’s death and I’m trying really hard not to let that effect my judgement.
The thought slams into me like a truck, like it always does. A tightness grips my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Six years.
Six years without her laugh. Without her little hands gripping mine. Without the sound of her tiny feet running through the house.
I clench my jaw and focus on the eggs.Keep moving. Keep busy. Don’t let it pull you under.
The last thing I want is for Blake and Charlie to see me like this. To see what this day does to me.
Because today, I am weak.
And I don’t have the strength to pretend otherwise.
I toss the empty shells into the trash and plate the eggs and some toast. Blake and Charlie come around the corner with their bags on their backs, fully dressed. A pang forms in my chest. I don’t want them to go. “Don’t you want to eat first?” I motion toward the food.
Charlie nods and drops her bag in the hall before climbing onto the island stool. “Thanks, Mr. Hunter. We are going back to Daddy today, did you hear?” How can she want to go back to that hellhole? I just don’t understand. She sounds excited.Excited?It makes my stomach churn. I just don’t get it. Back to a man who hurts them both. I know abuse warps people, makes them think they don’t have a choice, but… she’s just a kid. She doesn’t know any better.
And Blake—Blake does know better.
She’s choosing to go back anyway. I give her a small smile. “I heard, sweetheart.” I look over her head at Blake and motion forher to follow me out back while Charlie eats. One last chance to talk some sense into her.
She does so begrudgingly.
I hold out my pack of cigs to her, and she shakes her head. “No, thank you.”
That doesn’t stop me from grabbing one and lighting it up, though. I take a long drag and blow it in her face.
She scrunches her nose and raises her brow. “Was that necessary?”
I smirk and do it again.
She swats the smoke away this time before huffing and taking a seat. “Why do you want me out here?”
Right to the point. Only problem is, I don’t really know what the point is. To keep her here longer than she wants? Maybe to try and talk some sense into her before she leaves the house. To relish in her presence since it seems to keep the dark thoughts away. I take another drag and clear my throat. “I think you are making a mistake.”
She scoffs and folds her arms across her chest in a defensive manner. “What I do is none of your business. You are ready to get rid of me anyway.”
I stare at her for a moment.What?I want nothing more than for them to stay with me. To keep them all to myself. “Is that why you are going back? Because you think I don’t want you here?”
She quickly shakes her head.
“Listen, I am a forty-two-year-old man, and I don’t fucking have time for games. If I didn’t want you here, then I would’ve asked you to leave or never brought you here in the first place. Don’t go back to your abusive husband because I didn’t beg you to stay when you said you wanted to leave.” I let out a heavy sigh and run my hand down my beard. “What I am trying to say is, I don’t own you, Blake. You are free to do as you wish when you wish. You are an adult. If you want to go back to your shitty life, then so be it. But don’t put your blame on me for the reason you want to leave.”
I just need to get some space. As I head toward the house, I can feel myself getting angrier by the minute, and she doesn’t deserve it. The weight of today and the fact that I just can’t stand the childish way she would choose to go back to that life because I didn’t beg her to fucking stay.
I am almost to the back door when she speaks.
“Wait.”
I slowly turn back toward her and wait for her to say what she needs to say.
She gets up from the chair and closes the distance between us until she is standing a few feet away.
Too close. Not close enough.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve me being a brat for no good reason. I didn’t mean to throw it in your face like that. I just couldn’t help myself.” She fiddles with her fingernails. “I just… when you didn’t tell me what to do, it confused me. I’m so used to being controlled that when you said I could go, it made me feel like you didn’t want me around.”
