I looked ahead at the fabulous people applauding me. “Wow. Thank you.” I took a moment to breathe then looked at the camera. “I’ve been called undecided, a failure, a disappointment, selfish and unworthy by the closest people to me. Yet today, here I stand.”
The audience applauded while my fingers tightened around the golden statuette.
“This is a shout out to all of the abused. To those who carry the scar on their faces or their bodies or their souls for the rest of their lives. You may think you’ll never heal. You may think you’ll never be happy again, even at the greatest moments of your lives. But I’m gonna tell you what my father told me the other day. Allow yourself to be happy because you deserve it.”
I waited the applause out. “It took me a long time to understand that, but I can assure you that I am happy now, and I’ll stay that way because I won’t let anything change that. The monster still visits, but I’m strong enough now to conquer it away. If I can do it, then so can you. It all starts with the word ‘believe’.”
Another round of applause erupted. “I’d like to thank my friends who believed in me right from the start, Raoul Garcia and Amanda Baker, and the friends who had faith in me even in my darkest hours, Don Robello and Jim Cassidy. And above them all, the idiot crying next to me.”
The audience burst into laughter as I glanced at Mike. “Seriously, stop it or I’m gonna cry, too.”
He was crying and laughing at the same time, his hand on his chest, shaking his head.
“Okay. My time’s up. Thank you.” I raised my award for the picture. Then Mike’s arm escorted me off the stage.
“I’m sorry about that. I just couldn’t help myself.” He wiped the last of his tears. “Where should I take you? Back to your boyfriend?”
My lips twitched on a smile. “No. To the press room. I wanna return before Best Actor.”
I could feel his eyes on me as we walked, even hear the unsaid words troubling his chest. He finally managed to ask one question. “Is it true?”
“What is true?”
“That you’re happy now?”
I smiled at him. “Yes.”
“Good. Great.”
“How have you been doing?”
“All right. I finally took your advice and went to therapy. Been going nine months now.”
I smiled again. “That’s great news.”
Scene 92
Maggie
When I entered the press room, there was a smattering of applause.
The room had gray and wood-paneled walls, gray carpet with pink patterns, a buffet table of sandwiches and cheese cubes, and a small stage with two oversized statuettes. There were seven long tables with placards for news outlets. Reporters with tiny microphones and headsets packed the area.
“How are you feeling right now?” one of them asked.
“Very good, actually. Thank you. It’s a great Hollywood tradition, and I love being a part of it.”
“Did you anticipate this win?”
“No. I didn’t even think I’d be nominated after last year. Luckily, Hollywood considers mental, suicidal fuck-ups like me to be worthy artists. Shit. I shouldn’t say fuck-ups. Man, I shouldn’t say shit either. Maybe I’ll just swear in Italian from now.” I giggled with the random bursts of laughter.
“That was an inspiring speech you gave, Ms. Dawson. How did you manage to overcome your crisis as a victim of emotional abuse and come out a winner?”
“Through several steps. The first one is understanding your condition, being aware of it, putting a name to it, which helps you identify the problem; you have been in a toxic relationship. In my case, I had a narcissistic sociopath for a mother. Those kinds of relationships can destroy lives.
“The second thing is that you need to realize that forgiving your abuser could be liberating. You do it not because the abuser deserves your forgiveness, but because you deserve peace. I have to say all that can’t happen unless you get the support you need, not just through therapy—it never works alone—but through good, understanding people who are there for you when you need them.”
“Why was Mike Gennaro in so many tears when you won?”
