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I did.
“What? I’m supposed to be seen and not heard?” she asked sweetly. “Come on, Daddy. As much as you’ve got that in Mom, you’re not going to get it in me.”
The barb wasn’t intended to hit me, but it drew blood nonetheless. I hated that my daughter saw me that way, wished for things to be different, for me to give my little girl a strong female role model.
But things were not different.
“Yes,” Preston agreed. “Your mother knows how to act with company. And you will learn too.”
Violet narrowed her eyes and pushed up from her chair. “No, Daddy, I will not,” she snapped. “I have a voice, and I intend to use it to call out assholes. Which, if I may, includes you right now.”
I blinked rapidly, and even Preston looked shocked for a moment. Our daughter might have been strong-willed, but she never cursed. Never challenged her father or spoke to him that way.
Preston’s shock didn’t last for long. He took a step toward Violet with a look on his face that I recognized all too well.
I had scrambled out of my chair before he could make it near her. Violet had not retreated. She would not retreat. She had never learned that she had to retreat. She had nothing to be afraid of because her father had never given her reason to be afraid. Until now.
I placed my hand on Preston’s chest, putting myself between them. “Honey,” I murmured, looking up at him. “It’s been a long night. How about we go to bed, and Violet can too? Everything will look better in the morning.”
It was a plea. My heart was thundering in my chest in response to Preston’s harsh, cruel gaze. I was already looking around the room for weapons to use if he decided to snap. The silver candlesticks we got from his parents as a wedding present... They would work.
His temper hung in the air, and I watched it, praying it wouldn’t snap, but also ready to bludgeon him to death if need be. If he tried to lay a hand on my daughter.
But the moment passed. The promise of violence was no longer focused on my daughter. Instead, it landed on me.
“Yes,” he nodded slowly. “Let’s go to bed.”
There was a promise there. One I understood. Punishment for stepping in, for getting in his way.
I sighed in relief.
And the next morning, as I gingerly poured coffee at the breakfast table, nursing bruised ribs, I considered what I would do if Preston did do something to Violet.
I’d kill him.
But it didn’t come to that. Violet stumbled into the kitchen, half clutched by sleep, and gave her father a hug, apologized. He kissed her head and apologized too. And he never looked at Violet that way again.
But the fact remained that he had. The potential lingered. And it kept me awake for months afterward.
I blinked my way back into the present.
“If she finds out the truth about her father, she’ll hate him,” I told Macy. “She’ll hate me a little too… if I’m lucky.”
I considered the look my daughter would give me if I told her that I’d let her father beat me for years.
“She’ll lose whatever respect she has for me,” I choked out the words on a whisper. “For staying with him. She will resent me for my weakness. And for destroying the image she has of her father. She will have to reevaluate everything she’s ever known. Her entire identity, which has been built around the parents she thought she had.” I took another, longer sip of my margarita. Though it was strong, it wasn’t bringing forth the numbness I sought.
My hand shook.
I couldn’t stop it. The magnitude of this decision was a devastating earthquake, splitting apart the very foundation of my life.
“If I don’t tell her, then I-I am lying to m-my only child,” I stuttered. “I’d also be endangering her with her ignorance. Because even though he loves our daughter, his love is warped, twisted and ugly. That there is a chance he could harm her. Even use her to get to me. However small that chance is, I will never be able to live with myself if she is hurt because of me.”
I stared at Macy, looking for judgment where there wasn’t any. There was only empathy, kindness, unwavering support.
The very act of being able to say this out loud was somehow therapeutic, so it no longer ran in circles around my mind. I hadn’t said any of this to Swiss. I knew if he heard the turmoil this was causing me, he’d kill Preston. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself, despite all the promises he’d made. He wouldn’t be able to watch me suffer this way.
“Granted I’m a little newer to the role, but being a mother is an identity that I thought I was ready for, thought I was born for,” Macy finally said after waiting to make sure I had nothing else to say. “But nothing prepares you for the reality of it. Even though every fucking person tries to tell you how hard it is. I never got it. Because it isn’t hard. No, that’s not the right word. It changes your very existence. Your purpose. The whole goal you have in life is to protect these humans who you love more than you realize you ever could.” She smiled, her eyes filling with happy tears. With love.
