Page 103 of Mommy

Maybe she fell asleep.

“Why did you cry?”

I’m surprised when she actually draws breath to answer. I honestly thought she’d be asleep, and I just asked to get the question off my chest.

“Because I’m hurting for all the dogs we didn’t find.”

“I know. Those aren’t the tears I’m talking about.”

I know where those tears came from, what I don’t understand is why she cried before that. Sure, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at her, but the sheer panic, her inability to even defend herself… it doesn’t feel right. She didn’t feel like herself at that moment. And my mind can’t let go of that bit.

“I told you,” she mumbles, her words muffled by Posie’s fur. “it wasn’t your fault.”

That’s a lie.

But I won’t tell her that, because… it’s not what I’m after. I know damn fucking well that I should not have yelled like that.

When I apologized to her, she deflected. She was about to tell me I wasn’t in the wrong and that inherently is wrong. The fact that she thinks it’s okay for me to speak to her like that? Not right. It’s something I’ll need to fix, but not today. Today, I need to find out why this was her initial reaction.

Who yelled at her?

And I don’t mean what stranger yelled at her, I mean what piece of human scum that Ivory let into her life and into her heart had the audacity to yell at her.

“Did your mother yell at you when you were a child?”

“No.” she whispers.

Her answer doesn’t surprise me. I saw the woman and I would’ve been surprised if she had ever gotten loud. In as many ways as Malena might have failed her daughter, I doubt she ever raised her voice. She surely wasn’t a great mother, but her being loud and present? I don’t think that was the problem between Ivory and her mom.

“Then who did?”

I have a suspicion, but I need to hear her say it.

“My first boyfriend, he… got angry easily.”

I breathe through the rising anger. I swallow every last bit of burning hatred that tries to crawl up my throat so that it can’t reshape the words on my tongue.

“Did he ever do anything else? Anything more than yelling?”

The way Ivory flinched when I reached out to hug her? That already sent my stomach dropping.

“He didn’t hit me.”

“Then what?” It takes everything in me to keep my voice low and soft, but I know Ivory doesn’t deserve my anger.

My restraint gets rewarded. She finally lets go of Posie and sits up, even turning to face me.

“He… just… it was nothing.” The shame that floods her face is all consuming.

If he assaulted her, I will castrate the man and make him eat his balls.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know … its—” She stops mid sentence, looking at me a little lost.

Okay, I won’t make her say it.

We both know what this is about.