I kept my promise to Grady and called him when I was settled in my room last night. The sadness was still there, but less so after I called and spoke with both him and Paige, who I made clear to that this is a work trip. I’m not abandoning all my plans in Stowaway. Though, I wasn’t firm about a return date, either.
The call ended with me reaffirming to them both that I love them. That hasn’t changed. It won’t ever. But my head needs to be right and straight, or I’m no good to either of them. My bed rest yesterday made it clear to me that it’s not.
Sam stopped by, and when I expressed some of my thoughts, he told me I was overthinking it. That I’d just been through another traumatic experience and to give myself a break.
Internally, I know he’s right. If only it was that easy, though, to know the truth and live every day by it.
After my conversation with them, I ordered room service and flipped through channels on the television. I landed onPride & Prejudice,thinking it would be a good, light choice. Except it reminded me of my father’s email that I had been ignoring.
Questions bombarded me. Mostly, how is it so easy for this fictional father to recognize the faults of his wife, love her anyway, but still try to do right by his daughters…when my own father was utterly incapable of such?
Whether or not I want a relationship with him, I want answers. The only way to get those is to email back, as I’m not ready for a phone conversation.
Dad,
I’ll admit, I was surprised by your email. Every day of my life has been spent believing that you loved her more thanyou could ever love me. And that you would always side with her.
I’m sad it took you seeing pictures of me beaten and bruised to see me as a person and not just a punching bag. You want forgiveness, but how do I go about doing that when all I’ve known is you turning a blind eye every time I needed you.
You could have loved her while still protecting me. You could have loved her while still showing me love.
I’ve met someone here where I thought I was hidden and safe. Turns out I wasn’t. Maybe you’ve seen the news about it, but Pierre found me. This time, I fought back. Because this time, there’s a little girl in my life that I’d die for. I’ve only known her a short while, but it’s been long enough to know that I love her more than myself. She’s not my blood, but she’s my heart. She’s mine to protect and I’d lay it all on the line to do so.
Why couldn’t you have done the same?
One day I hope you can give me an answer that helps me understand. Until then, I’ll have to wish you well in life. That’s all I have to give you. I’ll reserve the best of me for the people who try to give me their best in return.
Lou
A feeling of content settled over me after I sent it, and I slept like the dead. This morning, I’m marginally lighter. Micah set up a virtual appointment for me with a psychologist who specializes in domestic abuse survivors. I’ll be speaking with her first thing tomorrow.
My mental checklist of things to do is slowly whittling down as I head to Luke’s studio. The walk is only a handful of blocks.I’m enjoying the bustle, the noise of the city that’s so reminiscent of my time living in New York. Back when everything in life was new and exciting. The colors, the lights, the sounds of a city that never sleeps. It was terrifying, yet invigorating, and pushed me to want to conquer it all.
I lost that part of me in Los Angeles. And then, I found some of it again in Stowaway. If I hold on to it too tight, will I be able to keep it or will it crush into dust? Balance isn’t something I’ve mastered in life. But I’m ready to learn it, now. I need to. Because if I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll lose everything that’s become important to me.
An idea forms on my walk between high-rises and curious stares. Through the voices that carry the whispers.Who is she? What happened? She should leave him. Dumb bitch probably deserved it.Even if I didn’t hear them, I’d know their thoughts. They’re written all over their faces and they’re nothing different than what I’ve been saying to myself forever.
Some of my doubts about myself have shifted from the front to the back of my mind. They became less with every blow I landed back on Pierre. I’m not a violent person, but there was healing in it. I think I’ll refer to the incident as my first therapy session.
Wearing a wry smile on my busted lip, I walk into Luke’s place of business.
“That disgusting motherfucker,” Juliet says as soon as she sees me. “How is he in jail and not in the morgue?”
“Sam’s too levelheaded for that, and Grady has Paige to think about,” I say. “I tried my best.”
“I’d love to see what that asshole looks like,” she says, so I pull out my phone and show her the picture Jerry took for me. “Holy shit, Louisa, you got him good.”
By the time Jerry went to snap the shot of Pierre in the back of the squad car, the bruises were blooming and swelling had set in. He’s sporting a black eye, too. Along with a bloodied nose and dark spots on both his cheek and his neck. He’ll hate that I have this, as he never lets anyone see him not looking his best.
“I wasn’t going to give in,” I say.
“I’m proud of you,” she says. “And Paige, too. What a rock star.”
“She is. I wouldn’t have survived it without her,” I say, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Brenda’s pissed, though. I’m afraid it might screw up his custody chances.”
“Yeah, he’s stressing over how to pay her with only two days left,” she says. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Pay her?”
