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What remained wasn’t much, but I did have some strength. I bowed my head and placed my hands over my abdomen.
Lacing my fingers together, I told her, “I love you, baby girl. I love you so much.”
If there ever came a day when she asked who her mother was, what she was like, I wanted Grace to be able to tell her that I was brave, that I’d found a way to move on.
Pulling in a shaky breath, I pushed away from the bed, from the gift, from the past, and pointed my feet toward the door. For the second time since I’d become what I had, I did something motivated not out of fear, but out of love.
I wasn’t strong, but my love for my daughter was.
Addy
Restore House was a two-story redbrick building with a welcome mat by the front door and a completely enclosed interior courtyard.
My room was on the second floor, room twenty-four of twenty-seven. It was small ... just a bed, a desk, and a bathroom. But for the first couple of weeks, it felt huge. Probably because it was all my own, and I’d never had a space all my own, even temporary.
For the first seven days, I stayed inside my room. I slept a lot. Meals were delivered to me. No one made me feel bad about not coming downstairs to the common dining room to eat. That first week barely seemed real.
Now, it was week two, and it felt way too real. Leaving my solitude, I now took my meals downstairs.
In a room that was filled with nearly as many racks as Janet’s Design, I was able to outfit myself completely. I needed clothes desperately now since my pregnancy was finally showing in a big way. My waistline seemed to expand by the minute, my breasts too.
I was improving emotionally, and thankfully didn’t cry all the time anymore. Without all the sadness bearing down on me, I could think better and didn’t feel like my brain was trapped in a fog.
Today, I remembered I had a meeting with the woman who ran the nonprofit facility. She would outline a plan for me. I’d been told the week where everyone had left me alone was part of it. I was supposed to rest and learn to feel secure in my new environment.
Knowing only residents were allowed on the alarm-protected property, I did feel safe. Well, as safe as I ever would knowing Martin was out there somewhere. He was different from other abusers. There would never be a chance for me to confront him. He would never be held accountable.
“Addy.” Clara King beckoned to me from the doorway to her office. “You may come in now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I rose from the chair outside and brushed nonexistent lint from my stretchy maternity pants, along with my musings.
“How are you settling in?” she asked after I was seated in a chair in front of her desk.
“Fine. The room is nice.”
It was simple and cheery with butter-yellow walls and eyelet lace curtains. Its homey feel was a relief after the opulence of the Skellins’ mansion and Martin’s penthouse.
“Good.” She nodded and took a seat beside me, rather than moving behind the desk. That was a welcome gesture, helping me to set aside unpleasant memories of Martin and his office.
“Where did you go just now?” Her brow creased as she studied me.
“Just thinking about the past.”
“About your abuser?”
I nodded. “Everyone I’ve met so far talks so freely about the men who hurt them.” I glanced down. “I’m not ready for that.” I clasped my hands together, expecting her displeasure.
“Don’t be hard on yourself.” She leaned toward me, the length of her ponytail swinging forward over her slender shoulder. “You’re doing well,” she said, and I glanced up, warming under her approval. “They’re just further along than you.”
Clara was surprisingly young, just in her twenties, blond with a sunny disposition and a lightly freckled face. Barely older than me, she’d checked me in when I arrived, sharing her age and that she was also a survivor of abuse. She had gone on to get her PhD in psychology.
I sighed. “I feel like I have forever to go.”
“It’s a challenge,” she said firmly. “You must go through the steps like we all have. But you’ll make it. You grew up in Southside. That’s not an easy place to survive.”
I nodded my agreement. That was an understatement.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re settling in.” She sat back in her chair. “The other reason I asked you to stop by is to let you know you’ll meet your therapist today.”
