Lola
My knees ached. I’dbeen crouched on the laundry room floor too long.
The glass door of the washing machine hung open. The pink sheets had been stripped off my bed and stuffed inside, but one pillowcase stayed balled in my fist. I couldn’t bring myself to toss it in and snap the door shut.
Stop being so stupid.Forget him.
My heart twisted. I couldn’t. Not completely. A trace of Aiden’s cologne lingered in the pink fabric, barely more than a whisper, but it was my only proof of the night we shared. The hollow place inside me clung to that memory. I didn’t want to let it go.
Sighing, I rose to my feet, flicked the washing machine door closed, and pressed “Go.” A chirp, and the cycle started. My thoughts swirled faster than the water tumbling with the sheets inside.
Maybe Aiden wasn’t really what I struggled to let go of. Maybe it was losing thehopeof him. I was fine alone, butjustfine. Was it selfish to want more?
My parents had a beautiful marriage. My sister was a train wreck, but her marriage was strong, too. I was nothing like my sister. I was cobbled together from the bits of junk left over after my parents created something wonderful the first time around. Broken Lola only chose broken men. Aiden. Chris. All the boyfriends before them who’d put me last, even though I’d only ever begged them to love me.
My relationships were just like all the dolls and stuffed bears I’d owned as a little girl. I’d tended to them so tenderly, healing all their imaginary booboos, but never received a kiss or a whispered thank you. I’d known my future—to love but never be loved back.
Sweet, simple,stupidLola.
With the pillowcase still scrunched in my fist, I wandered through the back door and inside the cottage, not quite sure what to do next. I found myself in front of my wardrobe, staring at the battered suitcase on the top shelf.
I almost laughed. I’d been so naive. I’d thought my days of hiding secrets were over. Not yet. I had one more.
I dragged the suitcase down, dropped it on the bed, unzipped it, and after taking a deep breath, flipped it open. I lifted the binder of my personal papers and pushed away old photographs and mementos. The faded pink pillowcase was still tucked underneath. My fingertips traced the worn fabric. No money from my escape fund was left, but the bump of the engagement ring with its teardrop diamond was still hidden inside. Carefully, I slipped Aiden’s pillowcase on top. What a strange pair they made. Old hopes—failures—mixed with new.
“No more,” I said out loud.
If no one was going to put me first, I needed to putmyselffirst. The change had to start with me.Insideme.
I’d proven to myself that I could be brave. I’d risked everything for a chance to be something more than Chris’s disappointment and my parents’otherdaughter when I’d moved to Richmond. I’d quietly quit my job and disappeared.
But I was done hiding.
My gaze shifted to the nightstand. A new book waited for me—The Scars That Don’t Show: Rebuilding Your Life After Domestic Violence. I’d start reading it later. More self-help books were on the way. An appointment with an online therapist was booked, too.
My phone blinked on the nightstand. I bent over. A new message from my mother.
Mum
No more of this nonsense. Come stay with us. We miss you.
My father had sent one too.
Dad
What do you call a deer with no eyes?
My lips twitched. My parents tried. Despite my bitterness, I knew they loved me in their own way, but taking the next step in my life was up to me.
I reached for my phone and tapped messages to both of them. The first were for Mum.
Lola
I’m getting stronger every day, Mum. My friend even asked me to join a dance class with her.
Love you.
The fact that I hadn’t agreed to the dance class made no difference. Mum would be stoked—dancing and a friend. Finally, I wouldn’t be the social outcast she’d always feared. But there would be no more false promises to call. My boundaries were just as important as her happiness.
