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“Theo Wentworth.” Even after being up since the crack of dawn, he’s graceful as he moves to stand at my side, placing his hand possessively at the back of my neck while offering my mother the other. “Prue’s boyfriend, nice to meet you.”
He didn’t introduce himself as Dr. Theodore Wentworth as most physicians would. Nope. Here, with me and the only family I know of, he’s Theo. My boyfriend.
“Salina West, nice to meet you too,” she says, and it’s obvious she means it. She’s happy we’re here. Relieved.
“Come inside.” She moves to the side, beckoning us to enter. “I’ll explain everything.”
I’m thankful for her offer. It’s about a hundred degrees out here, and we’ve been driving for hours. Theo had.
We follow her into the small living room and sit on the floral loveseat. The place is pretty empty. There’s one coffee table, three lamps strewn around, and two armchairs on either side of the loveseat.
No wind comes through the worn-out white curtains. The fan in the ceiling might be old and creaking, but it works, breathing some air into the stuffy room.
The only thing that bothers me is my silly decision to wear these stifling jeans instead of a dress.
“Anything to drink? Eat? You must be hungry.”
Another wave of tears well behind my eyes at the way she dotes on us. Where was she when I needed her?
Salina and Theo must notice the pain twisting at my expression.
“Water will be fine,” he interjects, and she scurries off to the small kitchen.
While she drops ice cubes into glasses and fills them with tap water, Theo’s palm snakes around my waist. He draws me to him, both of us sweating, and neither of us cares.
“How you holding up?” he whispers into my hair.
“Curious. And sad.” I cling to his navy blue polo shirt.
“That’s okay.” Even when he talks in hushed tones, his dominance overflows from him, soothing me. “You’re entitled to your feelings. Remember?”
“Yes.” My lips seek the warmth of his scruffy neck, and I press them there. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Whatever you feel is fine, Prue,” he reassures me.
Before I have the chance to answer, we hear Mom’s slippers on the linoleum floor. We straighten our spines. Theo doesn’t let me go, his arm remaining firm around me.
Mom eyes him closely, smiling while she arranges the water glasses on the table.
“So, your dad found you?” She takes a seat next to us, her brows kneading together.
A cold shiver shoots up my spine. Surprisingly, not due to any guilt I might’ve harbored for the past forty-eight hours.
She could be onto us. She might see through me. I am her blood, after all.
I stare at her, trying to figure out what she might think she knows.
Theo doesn’t like me to be stressed. The press of his fingers calls me to look at him, at the love in his eyes, the vehement reassurance that he won’t let anything happen to me.
“Yes.” I don’t stutter, leaning into Theo’s strength, tapping into the power I have inside me. “And he attacked me.”
“I’m so sorry, Prue.” She reaches out to me, clasping her hand on mine. “I watched it on the news and hated myself for putting you through what I had to go through because of a stupid drunken moment.”
“What?” My face blanches, and my raging heart stills to a full halt. “He never mentioned it. Did he hit you?”
“He did, in high school. Once we…” Her blue eyes skate to Theo, and her cheeks redden. “Once we started dating, his true face began to show. He was a violent man, a cruel one. He knew I had no one to turn to for help, and he used it. My parents—your grandparents—were strict people. I wasn’t supposed to have a boyfriend in the first place, so to come to them with this? I couldn’t do it. So, he punched me in the stomach or welted my behind with his belt whenever he could. He would also…”
She sighs, biting her bottom lip. Her silence, the gloom surrounding her. She doesn’t have to elaborate on what he did to her.
