It was something one of the waitresses at the restaurant taught me after a shift where one of the regulars got too handsy with us when we were walking to our cars.
They go out like a light,she had told me.
And so did Trevor.
“He was out before he hit the floor.”
“Atta girl,” Jack praises, but I shake my head.
“It was a lucky shot.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, baby. You did what you had to do.” The words warm my whole body, bringing me back to myself a little more. I’ve told myself that it was the night I had enough, that I mustered the strength to leave because of Evee—and while that’s true, I think I also found strength inside myself that night.
“Without a second thought,” I say, remembering how I didn’t even hesitate to leave—how I knew it was my only option the moment Trevor fell to the ground. I couldn’t even let myself take a moment to feel the relief that I was okay, that he didn’t kill me, that he wasn’t going to get back up and try again. “I grabbed my keys off the hook by the front door, and with nothing but my nightgown, took off.”
“That’s incredible,” Jack breathes, the adoration in the words making my skin warm. “You’re incredible,” he adds. “I just wish you didn’t have to do it all alone. I wish—” He stops again, shaking his head before looking at Evee, the words on his lips forgotten as she turns over her little shoulder to look at us, a playful squeal escaping her lips.
I reach for her, pulling her away from her sensory books, snacks, and strands of grass she tore from the ground and on to my lap. She looks up at me from under her sunhat, and I can see her blue, curious eyes through her sunglasses gleaming in the sun.
I chose to have Evee and give her the life that wasn’t meant for me but was meant forher. The thought of her life being in the hands of a monster before she was even born gave me power I didn’t even realize I was capable of. That’s how I did it. That’s how I broke the cycle.
And not a day goes by that I don’t thank my lucky stars that I was able to when so many others aren’t as fortunate.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Rumi.” I turn to look at him, his arm coming behind me, giving me the perfect space to lean back against him, my head falling into the crook of his neck.
“I’m proud of myself,” I whisper, letting myself bask in both his words and mine, feeling pride wash over me as I hold my daughter close to me, her sticky fingers grabbing on to my arms as she wiggles in my hold.
“Is he—” he pauses, his face hardening. “Is he the reason you lost your kidney? You didn’t fall did you?”
I exhale, the memory of when Trevor pushed me down the stairs at my college dorm. We were fighting, and at the time, he really did convince me it was an accident, that I tripped and fell, and he couldn’t reach me in time.
But rose-tinted glasses only work for so long.
I nod.
Jack shakes his head, rolling his lips together. I can feel the anger radiating off him, but he manages to hide it well. Clearing his throat, he says, “Thank you for telling me your story.” I open my arms, letting Evee crawl back over to her half-eaten lunch and her toys. “I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
Feeling lighter than I have in years, I look up at him, aching to get lost in the forest of his eyes. “Thank you for listening.”
We both sit in comfortable silence, watching Evee as his head rests on top of mine.
“Where is Trevor now?” Jack asks after a moment.
I shrug my shoulders, leaning more into him, loving the warmth of his body.
“You haven’t heard from him?”
I shake my head, blowing out a breath. “Nope,” I say, popping the “p”. “And I probably never will.”
“He hasn’t tried to contact you since you left?” His voice becomes more hard, his tone rising in tension. “Not even to ask where you are? To see if Evee was born, that she’s okay?”
“He doesn’t even know Evee’s name,” I say, letting out an exhale. I sit up, crossing my legs and looking over my shoulder to meet his gaze. “I didn’t put his name on her birth certificate.”
“He shouldn’t be able to just get away with what he did to you.”
I can tell Jack is trying to keep his anger tamped down, but the way his jaw tics gives him away.
“Most abusers never get arrested because survivors don’t report it, not with the possibility of retaliation or lack of support. I didn’t report the abuse because I didn’t think anyone would believe me. Even when abuse is reported, the legal system can fail.” Whether from a lack of sufficient evidence or failing to take any action, it was too much of a risk for me—and for so many others.
