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“I knew it’s not normal. I don’t mean it like that. It’s just I understand that she did it to keep Patrick safe.”
“It is not all right to keep one child safe at the expense of your other child. What that is . . . what they did to you is child abuse.”
“Oh no.” She shook her head. “It’s really not. They never hit me.”
“Gwen, you’re smart. So incredibly smart and I know that when something is close to you . . . when it is someone who is meant to love and protect you that does something atrocious, that it’s difficult to comprehend it. But just think about this . . . if you read that story in the news, what would you think? If you heard a story of a mother locking up her ill daughter, only going in to check on her when she fed her, what would you think?”
She cleared her throat. “She didn’t.”
“What?”
“Um, she didn’t check on me. She just knocked and left the food outside and unlocked the door. But she stood well away and locked it again once I took the food. But she didn’t ask me how I was or anything.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. What if you’d grown sicker. Got pneumonia, became dizzy and fallen and hit your head?”
“I . . . I . . .”
Was he right?
If she’d read that story, her first thought would have been . . . to get that little girl away from her abusive parents.
Shit. Fuck.
“I didn’t s-see it like that.”
“I know, baby. I know.” He held her tight, rocking her back and forth. “Did it get any better?”
“I don’t . . . I mean, I . . .” She let out a deep breath. “Not really. After he died, they seemed to forget I existed unless I did something they didn’t agree with. Like got bad grades or dated a guy they didn’t like. Got into trouble.”
“You got bad grades or into trouble?”
“Not very often. But I tried to be so good at everything to get them to notice me. However, they only paid attention to the bad. That’s why I don’t like the word brat. Because that’s what they’d call me whenever I did something they didn’t like.”
“My sweet baby. I’m so sorry.”
“I became a lawyer because my dad was one.”
“Yeah?”
“They didn’t even come to my graduation ceremony.”
“Fuck, baby. Fuck.” His voice was filled with raw pain and she wrapped her arms around him, wanting to soothe him.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not, Gwen. And you never have to pretend that it is, understand me?”
She blinked up at him and thought about that. Had she always brushed aside what they’d done? Telling herself it was all right? That it wasn’t abuse?
Maybe she had.
She blew out a breath.
“I want you to say that it’s not acceptable. Tell me,” he commanded.
“It’s not acceptable.”
“Do you have anything to do with them now?”
“I, uh, I try to call them once a month. They’re going to be disappointed in me for getting fired.”
“Fuck. Them.”
Whoa. He didn’t swear often. Or get angry.
But he was both right now. For her.
She snuggled in tight, wrapping her arms around his middle as the tears came.
“That’s it, darling girl. Let them out. Let it all out.” He rocked her back and forth. She didn’t know how long he just held her as she cried, but when the tears dried, she felt lighter.
And exhausted.
“Good girl,” he whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”
“For getting your shirt all soaked with my tears?”
“For letting all of that out. I know it had to have been building up. And you can get my shirt wet anytime. I don’t care about that.”
She glanced up at him, sniffing.
“Let’s clean you up.”
Oh God. She stiffened and tried to jump off his lap. She had to look like a complete fright. But he held her against him.
“Uh-uh. I didn’t say you could move. I’m going to clean you up.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can do it. Crap.”
He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, setting her down on the counter. She tried to turn and catch sight of herself in the mirror, but he grasped her chin.
“No.”
“Dominic,” she said with a low whine. “I look terrible.”
“You could never look terrible. And you’re not looking in the mirror. Face forward.” He grabbed a cloth and ran it under warm water. Then grasping hold of her chin, he gently wiped her face clean.
Lord. That felt so good.
“Good girl, Shortcake.”
“You still haven’t told me about that nickname,” she grumbled as he reached for a tissue.
“Hmm. No, I know. I’m still waiting.” He held the tissue to her nose. “Blow.”
“Nooo,” she groaned.
“Blow.”
“It’s so unattractive.”
“Gwen, this won’t be the last time you cry in front of me. And it won’t be the last time I clean you up. If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t. Now, blow.”
