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“He was a cruel man, he liked to drink and I hated the way he used to look at me.” I swallow the lump in my throat so I can continue. “It was a bad time, I hated my new school, it was so different to the one your father sent me to. The kids picked on me because I was quiet.” I leave out that the reason I was so withdrawn was because my heart was broken and I felt numb inside.
“Mama was oblivious to how I was feeling, she was so in love with Kevin, and that was helping her forget about Dad. I guess it made her forget about me too.” I shrug.
“I’m sorry that happened.” Raoul’s hand slides past my cheek and into my hair, pulling me onto his lips.
“We should get back, I’m starving for some of Wendy's pancakes.” I force a smile, hoping that will be enough to satisfy him.
“Not yet, you didn’t tell me why you left. You dropped out of high school. That’s a big deal. Especially for a girl as smart as you.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head, doing all I can to hold in the tears.
“Tell me,” he hisses through his teeth, looking both hurt and frustrated at the same time.
“Kevin,” I force the name out of my mouth again. “He used to look at me in this way that I hated. At first, I thought he wanted me out of the way so he could have Mama to himself, but I soon learned that that wasn’t the case.” I drop my head, unable to stand the way I know Raoul will look at me now.
“What did he do to you?” I hear the tension in his voice and feel it in the tightening of his grip.
“He touched me a few times after he came home drunk, he liked to get into my bed and sometimes he’d hold me.”
I startle when Raoul’s fist slams hard into the hood of his car.
“This is why I wanted to avoid this conversation. I’m fucking over it now.”
“Did he…” Raoul lets out a frustrated growl when he’s unable to finish his sentence.
“No, he tried on a few occasions but he was too drunk to… you know.”
He gags, his body actually heaving like he’s about to throw up as he sets me aside and heads for the cliff's edge, resting his hands on his knees.
I give him some space, hanging back and chewing nervously on my thumbnail. I shouldn’t have told him, what kind of reaction was I expecting?
“And you never told your mother? You just ran away?” he comes back at me with newfound energy.
“I told her.” I hold in my tears. “I begged her to leave him. To come back to LA and ask your father to take care of us again. But she didn’t believe me. She thought I’d made the whole thing up for attention. She called me malicious, accused me of being jealous and she chose him over me.” I don’t know why I’m not crying yet. I cry every time I think about it. Maybe it’s because saying it out loud makes me too angry to be upset.
“I’m going to kill him,” Raoul promises, the hurt on his face turning to rage.
“Raoul, that’s not how to deal with the problem. I'm a better person for what happened. I moved here, I learned to take care of myself and I’m happy now,” I assure him, trying to put on a brave face.
“If I’d have known that’s what was happening to you, I would have brought you home myself.”
“You were in Sicily, you couldn’t have done anything.”
“My father would have, he loved your father like a brother, he would have taken care of you. Why didn’t you go to him when you came back to the city?”
“Guess I was too stubborn?” I lie, Raoul’s angry enough, I don’t need to make things any worse for him.
“I want to forget what happened with my mama, and with Kevin. I have a life here now. I have my studio. I love taking pictures. Kendra’s a great friend. Raoul, I’m happy. Please let’s go home and get some breakfast. I have an appointment at the studio later.”
Raoul wipes away the tear that has wept on my cheek before he tugs me close and presses his lips tight into my forehead. I can sense the fury he’s holding back for me, and squeeze him just as hard as he is me.
“Let’s get you home and get you fed.” He finds his calm, guiding me around the car and opening the passenger door for me.
The drive back to his place is silent and when he parks up in front of the house, I decide I have to do something to relieve the tension. If our time together is to be short. I refuse to waste it looming in the past.
“I got some great shots. Thank you for sharing your place with me.” I take his hand in mine.
“I’d share everything with you if I could.” He turns to look at me and the hurt and sincerity in his expression splits my heart in two.
