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I spent a few days trying to figure myself out, breaking down my feelings, and seeing if I could understand myself. With the help of Bri, it became clear that a lot of it stems from my father. I grew up being abused. It’s why I do what I do. It’s why I prided myself on seeing the signs with others. I’d been there. When Clint came around, he made it seem like he saved me, only to turn around and do exactly what my father did—just differently. He was able to hide behind his execution so flawlessly. Part of me is optimistic that my guilt isn’t guilt toward Clint’s death. It’s toward myself and not seeing the signs before it was too late.
I’ve shed so many tears over him. It’s time I stop wasting the ones that I have left. He isn’t worthy of them. The only tears I want to cry are tears of joy.
I’m taking back everything he stole.
Sitting on my bed, I look across the room to the mirror on the dresser. I don’t look anything like I did when I first arrived, and I’m thankful. That was when the guilt was the worst. I was constantly yelling at myself, calling myself names, and being nothing but degrading. I wasn’t doing myself any favors.
When Bri and Elvira heard me one day, they put me in my place. I cried so damn hard that night, but I admitted that I felt lighter when I woke up. They knew what to say. They knew how to help me. Having two people in my corner who understand what I’ve gone through is one of the most significant factors in my healing.
With both of them surrounding me, I know I’m not alone.
Not that I really would be. Nate’s been checking in on me every chance he gets, which makes me feel like a real asshole when I think about the first few days. It’s clear to me now that he was trying to support me. He was trying to give me what I needed. But what drove the point home—he was here for me, even as he backed off. Even though backing off was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t push me to give him what he needed. He gave me everything I did and didn’t ask for.
I never thought I would be so grateful for someone giving me space, but I am—more than I’ll ever be able to express. Nate allowing me to heal on my own time has been therapeutic.
“Well, he didn’t allow me, but you know what I mean,” I say. There I go again, talking out loud to no one.
I smile and shake my head. It may seem crazy, but it’s working. It’s helping me.
A soft knock comes on the door, and I don’t think anything of it before I say,“Come in.”
The door opens and closes as quickly as possible, and who I thought was Bri or Elvira is, in fact, a little boy. One that I didn’t want seeing me like this. I quickly looked in the mirror to make sure I’m not just telling myself I look better than before. It doesn’t matter, though. Dillon’s here, and he’s walking up to me.
“Hey, buddy,” he doesn’t say anything,“want to sit?” I pat the bed next to me. He nods his head and climbs into the bed with me. He looks at me momentarily before he cuddles into my side, and I wrap my arm around him.
My midsection is still tender, and I suck in a small breath, but I won’t make him move. I can’t, and something tells me that he needs this. As we sit here, I realize that I maybe need it too.
“Daddy said you’re sick.”
I wasn’t sure what Nate told him, but I didn’t think he would tell Dillon the truth.“Yeah, buddy. I was really sick and wasn’t feeling well for a while.”
“Is that why you have all these ouches on you?”
I sigh. I don’t want to lie to him. In fact, I hate it, but I can’t tell him the truth. I go to talk, but the words are stuck in my throat. I nod my head, and he looks away.
“My mom came home a couple of times with ouches like that.” That makes me pause. Does this mean that he knows I’m hiding something?“She didn’t say she was sick, though. She told me to mind myself and not worry about it.”
“I’m sorry she said that. It’s good to ask to show that you care about someone. I appreciate you asking me. I’m starting to feel better, though. It’s just been a tough time. I’ve never been this sick before.”
“Is that why you don’t want to see me? Why I had to sneak in here?” he looks up at me again, tears in his eyes. This breaks me. I can’t stop the tears from falling from my eyes.
“I di-didn’t want you to get sick, too. It was awful. You and your sister didn’t need to see me like that.”
“I would have helped you get better.”
“I know, buddy,” I pull him closer, kissing the top of his head,“I know you would have. But hey, you’re here now, and I’m already feeling so much better.”
“Will you come out of your room now? We miss you. Sissy misses you.”
I could see how much this meant to him. I didn’t want to go out and allow everyone to see me this way. I was embarrassed about what happened. The biggest embarrassment came from my not seeing the signs. I don’t want them to judge me for anything that’s happened. But I look into Dillon’s eyes and realize that disappointing him would hurt more than any judgment from the guys of the club.
At the end of the day, I know that they won’t hurt me. They will all protect me as fiercely as they can, without question. If I know this, deep down in my soul, why do I think they’d judge me?Fucking trauma. I swear.
“Yeah, buddy. I’ll come to see your sister.”
He squeezes me harder, and I let out a slight noise, indicating I’m in pain. Delighted, he doesn’t notice.
I walk out of the room, and the second I am in the kitchen, everything stops. This awkward silence and all the looks were what I wanted to avoid. But I’m taken out of it almost as soon as it starts when Baby Girl runs up to me screaming.
