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The last thing I need is this woman constantly snooping around the shop. Barging in at any given moment and pestering me or waiting for Devlyn to show.
“What did she ask about me?”
An audible exhale leaves her lips as Elizabeth takes my hands in hers. In that small touch, I feel every ounce of her love and concern. “Please tell me you are safe, Shelly.” Her gaze pierces mine with a fierce level of protectiveness. “If that woman is harassing you…”
“For now, everything is okay.” I nod imperceptibly. “There’s just been some recent events with her and Devlyn.” My eyes fall to our joined hands. “Wish I could share more, but it’s not my place.”
“I know, sweetheart. Just promise me one thing.” I lift my eyes back to hers. “If it gets too bad, if you or Devlyn are in harm’s way, don’t keep this secret.” Her gaze drops to my belly briefly. “It’s not just the two of you anymore.” Her eyes dart between mine. “It’s okay to ask for help. Especially with this.”
“I promise,” I whisper.
Elizabeth’s shoulders visibly relax. “She asked if the young blonde girl still worked here. I didn’t answer. Just deterred her and asked how I could help. The way she left…” She shakes her head. “I don’t think she’ll return.”
I pray she is right. The last thing any of us needs is to be on the receiving end of Karen Templar’s wrath.
“Thank you.” I pull Elizabeth into a hug and hold on tight. She squeezes me until I have to tap out of the embrace. “Sorry I interrupted your lunch.” I point to the table where her sandwich sits. “Take all the time you need.”
Before she rebuts my courtesy, I dart from the room.
The last few hours of the day go by uneventfully. But as I compile online orders and start arrangements for deliveries, the thought of that woman in here, inmyshop, gazing atmymeadow, eats away at my happiness.
She may not have said one word to me, but her presence alone sucked the life from one of my happy places. And I intend to get it back.
I will not let her stomp all over me or Devlyn. Will not let her ruin the love and joy we have found together. And I downright refuse to be bullied and squashed by anyone, especially that wicked woman.
Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
TEN
DEVLYN
Difficult as it is,I try not to spend most days hating my mother. Dr. Prince says I should focus on how to relieve myself of the trauma. Find new ways to dispel the pieces of my past that affect my present and possibly my future. That I should forgive my younger self for not knowing or understanding the influence my parents had on me at such a vulnerable age.
It is okay to forgive past me. It is okay to let go of things I had no control over.
Forgiving and letting go of the past opens up space for the future. Is silent permission to love without fear of repercussion. To hope for the things I want in my life. To experience happiness without apprehension.
In order to move forward, in order to work through all the parts that eat away at my soul, I have to learn to forgive. And forgiving the woman who should have loved me more than anyone, but didn’t, is difficult.
Iwanther love. Iwanther approval.
Knowing I will never have either is the hardest part. But knowing I will never have either also helps.
When I argued with Dr. Prince, told him I didn’t have the energy to forgive my parents, he countered my rebuff. Said forgiveness and release don’t need to be done face-to-face. It’s more about letting go of the piece of them that still takes up residence inside me. It’s about discovering a way to dig up the painful parts, dissect each moment on its own, make peace with the hurt, and then let that piece of the past go.
Weeks ago, he’d said, “Mental and emotional trauma leaves invisible scars. Healing those scars will take time. It’s not something that can be rushed. We all heal at our own pace and in our own way. Grant yourself the time your mind needs. Be open to expelling the past and making room for the future.”
So, one session at a time, one relived memory at a time, I learn how to forgive and let go of my parents.
During an early session, I argued with Dr. Prince that my father was not to blame. He’d never said an unkind word. Never raised his hand in physical threat. Never belittled me in private or public. It had always been my mother who’d done those things. My mother was the villain.
After my counterstatement, Dr. Prince asked how my father acted while my mother behaved in this manner. For minutes, I stared out the window of his office. Watched the birds flutter around the tree branches and chase one another. Got lost in the fluffy white clouds as they floated in the Mayan-blue sky. Drifted away mentally with the breeze, wishing it was easier to escape the disasters of my past.
It was then that I realized what he’d meant when he said my father had also been part of the problem. Because James Templar never did a damn thing. Not to help me, anyway.
He’d coddled my mother. Admonished me for upsetting her. Told me to be on my best behavior. All with a pained look on his face.
To this day, I don’t know if that pained look was because my mother was upset. Or because he suffered her wrath as well.
