“I told him Mom didn't kill herself because of me.” My voice breaks, and I squeeze Nonie's hand tighter without even realizing it. “I told him she killed herself because of him.”
The silence that follows is deafening.
I stare out at the flowers in Nonie's garden, but I don't really see them anymore. All I see is that kitchen. The broken dishes. The smell of whiskey. My father's face twisting with rage before I even realized what was happening.
“He beat me so badly I thought I was going to die. I just laid there and took it. I didn’t have the strength to do anything about it. Once he was done, he just walked away, sat back down on his recliner, and kept drinking. It was like I didn’t even matter. But eventually I got back up, and I walked to the police station.”
Her face crumples, tearing spilling over her lids.
“I don't even remember the walk. I just remember walking through those doors covered in bruises and blood, and one of the officers taking one look at me before rushing me into the back.” I let out a long breath. “He never laid a hand on me again after that. But he never stopped trying to hurt me.”
The yelling never stopped. The drinking never stopped. The insults never stopped. Every single day I woke up wondering what version of him I'd be coming home to, and every single night I went to bed wishing I could wake up somewhere else.
“Oh, Lynie…” Nonie’s voice cracks so badly it barely sounds like her own. She reaches up and brushes my hair back from my face before cupping my cheek. “I'm so sorry.”
I shake my head. “No…you’re not the one who did it.”
“No,” she whispers, tears streaming freely down her face. “But I should've gotten you out of there.”
Those words hit something deep inside me and I pull away just enough to look at her. “You were all I had left.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Nonie looks like I've shattered her heart. She lowersher eyes to the now empty whiskey glass sitting in her lap, turning it slowly between her hands while she struggles to find the words.
When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. “You're right. I don't have an excuse, baby. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I promise you never have to go back, Madelyn. I promise.”
We both sniff and wipe the tears from our eyes, trying to get back to the here and now. I don’t want to be mad at her forever. I can’t blame her for the shit my dad did. The only person I have to blame is him, and he’s gone now.
“Why don’t you stay here with me from now on? I don’t like the idea of you staying in that dorm when there’s someone out there threatening you. It’s safer here, and we could have so much fun! What do you say?”
I love her for wanting to protect me, I really do, but I’ve gone this long on my own and I can’t pull her into the crossfire. If my father really is the one after me after what I did to him, I can’t risk Nonie getting hurt. It’s why I’ve been trying to push Miles away, but that man won’t budge.
“I can’t. I really appreciate the offer, but it was such a pain in the ass dealing with buses to get here and I can’t imagine doing that every day for classes. Besides, it’s nice being on my own for once.”
She nods her head in understanding and gives me a tight hug. I love her hugs. They remind me so much of my mom and take me back to those sweet memories of her. It’s selfish of me, but when I think of her like this, I always wish she wouldn’t have done it. I wish being my mom and being with me could have been enough to stay.
After cryingover my mom and spending the rest of the afternoon sharing memories of her with Nonie, she drove me back to campus. The ride was mostly quiet, but it wasn't awkward. We'd both cried enough for one day, and somehow the silence between us felt comforting. Every once in a while she'd reach over and squeeze my hand, reminding me without saying a word that I wasn’t alone.
When we pulled up outside my dorm, I leaned over the center console and wrapped my arms around her one last time.
“You know you're always welcome at my house,” she said softly as she rubbed my back. “I don't care if it’s two in the afternoon or two in the morning. If you need me, you call.”
“I know.” I smiled, though it came out much weaker than I intended. “I love you, Nonie.”
“I love you too, Lynie.”
I climbed out of the car and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, watching until her car disappeared around the corner. Part of me wanted to call her back and tell her I’d changed my mind. That I’d pack up my dorm room tonight and move into her guest bedroom where everything smelled like lavender and fresh tea instead of stale carpet and cheap air freshener.
For a little while today, I’d forgotten what it felt like to constantly look over my shoulder.
The second I walk back into my dorm room, that feeling disappears. I lock the door behind me before setting my purse down beside my bed. The room feels exactly the way I left it thismorning, but somehow it seemed different after spending the afternoon at Nonie’s.
I wandered over to the window and pulled the curtain back just enough to look outside. Night had settled over campus while I’d been gone. The sidewalks that had been crowded with students earlier were nearly empty now, leaving only a few people scattered here and there as they hurried back to their dorms. The courtyard sat beneath the glow of the streetlights, quiet enough that it almost looked peaceful.
I wish I knew what that felt like.
Even after spending hours with Nonie, after crying until my head hurt and getting answers I’d spent years searching for, that familiar feeling had already returned. It settled beneath my skin like it always did, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Maybe it’s paranoia or trauma. Or maybe my instincts have spent so many years keeping me alive that they refused to shut off now. Whatever it is, I hate it. I just want to be normal. I want to worry about exams instead of stalkers, spend my weekends at parties with Kaitlin without wondering if I’ll make it home safely. I want to fall for the cute guy that makes my heart race every time he smiles at me without constantly thinking about whether being around me was going to get him hurt.
