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48
IRINA
Ifelt her the moment she walked into the room. Felt the awkward silence descend on the kitchen as she handed Luna off to Don to entertain while we undoubtedly had a conversation that wasn’t safe for little ears.
God.What if Luna had seen?
I hung my head in shame, burying my face in my hands as the thought stole through me. There were some sights a child could never completely come back from. Her mom’s friend bleeding out and broken on the floor after a suicide was one of those things.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice coming out far more weak and broken than I’d intended. Every ounce of self-pity I’d felt since I’d tried to take my life pulsed through me, threatening to drive me right back to the place where I realized how much better off the world would be without me.
I had to believe that they’d all be happier without the burden of watching over me, taking care of me when I couldn’t even take care of myself.
Ivory sat next to me, my head resting on her shoulder with her arm wrapped around me. “I’m so sorry,” I said, leaning into the embrace that could have been horribly awkward. I’d thought she was avoiding me, thought she couldn’t stand looking at me after what I’d done.
“Honey,” she sighed, pulling me tighter. The stool spun in its place, her chin resting on top of my head. “I’m the one who should be sorry. What I almost let happen—”
“It didn’t just happen. I did it. I lied to get you to go away. It’s my fault—not yours.”
“I never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to you. I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said, tucking me tighter into her chest.
Rebel pranced through the room, Smaug clinging to her fur for dear life in a way that was so comical it had to be from a movie. “What the fuck?” Calla asked, echoing the same sentiment that I’d felt as she walked into the room.
The newborn clutched in her arms yawned, stretching his little arm free from the swaddle she’d carefully wrapped him in.
“Oh my God!” I gasped, pulling away from Ivory’s chest to stretch out grabby hands. Calla laughed, smoothly depositing the baby into my arms as she lowered herself onto a stool. “When?”
“Yesterday, actually,” she said, shrugging her shoulders when I looked at her like she was a mad woman. Who in their right mind gave birth and walked around the next day like it was nothing?
“Are you crazy? Shouldn’t you be resting?” I asked, staring down at the bundle cradled in what had been my broken arm.
“You’d be amazed by how quickly the body swings back from a vaginal delivery,” she said, smiling softly. “I’m sure you’ll find out one day.”
Something in Ivory stilled, her body tensing as she fidgeted at my side.
“What?”
“He hasn’t told you,” she sighed, hanging her head and rolling her eyes. “That’s just wonderful.”
“Told me what?” I asked, confusion knotting my brow.
“Scar had a vasectomy years ago, Honey. He doesn’t want to have kids. He should have told you before the two of you got serious,” she said, and I could see the indecision warring on her face. She wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing by telling me, by outing the secret that was his to tell.
In his defense, there hadn’t been much time to tell me. No time where I wasn’t nearly catatonic and trying to cope with what had been done to me.
I smiled, unbothered by the confession. As much as it stung to know that if I had wanted kids, I wouldn’t be able to have them, that had never been in the cards for me. “I don’t want kids anyway,” I said, chuckling through the confession as Royce wrapped his hand around my finger and I grinned down at him.
“You don’t want kids? But you love children,” Sadie said, her brow furrowing. Of all the women, I’d have thought she would understand the most. Sadie was far from anti-child. She adored her nieces and nephews with everything she had.
But she wasn’t ready for her own.
“Okay, so I want children,” I confessed, rocking Royce to the best of my ability while sitting. I still remembered the day she’d picked the name, grinning down at the fruition of all that effort. “I just don’t want biological children.”
“You want to adopt,” Sadie said, letting out a breath as if it all made sense. I supposed given my career of choice and what I saw every day, it did.
“I do,” I said. “There are so many kids who need love. I can’t see myself loving them any less than I would my own. They’ve always been my purpose.”
“Fucking right they have,” Sadie said, nodding as if she approved of the turn of events. “And you need to get back to your purpose.”
“I’m not ready,” I sighed, touching gentle fingers to Royce’s chest. He yawned sleepily, staring up at me with his dark blue eyes that were so like Calla’s. I hoped they stayed that way, outlasting the baby phase, a little bit of his mother in a face that already looked so much like his father.
“I know you’re lost right now, but don’t you think losing your entire mission in life might be contributing to that? As long as I’ve known you, you have always been working for the kids of the city. Giving them a better life,” Sadie said.
“You don’t understand. The things I saw, the sheer number of women and children they hurt every day. What I’ve done is only a drop in the bucket. I’ll never be able to make a difference,” I explained. It was impossible to get up and work every day, to bust my ass for a cause that had always defined me, knowing that it would never be enough.
That I could work myself to the bone, and still never make a difference.
“Tell that to the kids you’ve saved. Tell them they’re just a meaningless number, because you’ll never win the war. Do you think it makes it any less life altering for them?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and staring down at me. “Do you think Calla wouldn’t want someone to do the same for Royce if she was gone? Every life matters, Irina.”
“Sadie, maybe—” Ivory interjected, reaching over to touch her friend’s shoulder.
“She’s right,” I sighed, turning my eyes to the ceiling before handing Royce back to Calla. She looked down at her son, love swimming in her gaze that seemed amplified by the conversation. “They all matter. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel like it’s ever going to be enough. It feels like bashing my head against a wall and expecting not to crack my skull.”
“You keep going, because every life you save from them is a victory. It’s a fuck you—”
“Language,” Ivory reprimanded, her voice distracted as if it was a reflex.
“To the people who hurt you. To the people who want to hurt them. Don’t let them win,” Sadie said, stepping toward me and taking my hands in hers. I didn’t realize I’d been picking at the skin around my nails, my anxiety driving me to make them bleed until she forced me to stop.
“I don’t want them to win,” I whispered, realizing that they nearly had. I’d tried to kill myself, abandoning the kids who depended on me, because of what they’d done.
I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror anymore. She was a broken mess of what had come before. How could I expect the kids to do everything in their power to recover from what had been done to them, if I wasn’t even willing to push through for myself?
“All those women,” I said, shaking my head. Nothing I’d ever done had been for them. I’d always focused on the kids.
“They’re safe,” Ivory interjected. “The guys brought them to the hospital, and Matteo is paying for the counseling and medical treatment they all require.” I nodded my head, knowing that it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Not with those men still out there, taking more women every day. Hurting them.
“Maybe it’s time for your purpose to evolve,” Sadie suggested, raising an eyebrow as if she could sense the track of my thoughts. “I’m turning a portion of my gym into a self-defense program for women. You should help.”
Sadie was the proactive and preventive type, seeking to teach women to stop the abuse at the first sign. I wanted to help the women who were trying to cope with what had already been done to them.
The front door opened, Madison’s bright, songlike voice echoing through the foyer as she called out to Ivory. I was eternally grateful for the fact that they’d given her a place to stay until we found a more permanent home.
I didn’t know that I’d ever be ready to let her go, but I was in no position to be a mother to a teenage girl, when I couldn’t even take care of myself right now.
“I have a better idea,” I said, connecting eyes with Sadie. She read the unspoken part between us, not wanting to diminish Madison’s mood as she came into the kitchen and grinned at seeing me out of bed.
Her chest struck my side, plastering against me as Rebel growled at the intrusion. Sadie’s brow furrowed, but she turned back to me and mouthed a single word that gave me hope.
“Later.” Spoken as if there was no doubt that I would have a later.
For the first time in weeks, I didn’t doubt it.
