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It's not my home. Not my family. But for the moment, I'll pretend, for Damien. Still clutching my purse, we stroll side by side up to the front door.
My daddy reaches his arm out. “Thanks for finding my girl and bringing her home.” He smiles, but it looks like a sneer.
Damien stalls, his hand tightening on my hip. The smile on his face wavers. “Kalena lives with me on Oahu. I promised I would ask her if she wanted to come visit you.”
“Right, of course. I . . .” He stammers, shoving his outstretched hand in his pocket. “Please, come in.” He steps out of the way.
The inside looks the same as it did three years ago. Mismatched, plaid furniture with yellowing walls. It should comfort me. Instead, more shivers run up my spine.
“Kalena,” Mamãe gushes, rushing up to me with her arms spread out wide.
Her voice.
That same voice.
The one I hear on a constant loop inside my head. It doesn't matter what she says. I don't hear any of it. All I hear are the same two words.
Dirty whore.
I back up, brushing out of Damien's grasp, back out the door.
“I-I can't do this.” I don't stop and keep running straight toward the rental car.
“Kalena,” Mamãe calls, following after me, “please, come back home.”
I grip my purse to my chest, crossing my arms so she won't see how much I'm shaking. “This is not my home.” I spit out the words, holding my chin up and biting back my tears. “You made that perfectly clear when you kicked me out.”
“Please.” She holds her arms out. Tiny bruises on her wrists peek out from beneath her cardigan.
Seeing where my eyes are focused, she jerks her arms back and pulls her sleeves down. “Please. You have to stay.” Her eyes focus on the ground as she tucks her hair behind her ear. A large greenish bruise mars her neck. An even fainter outline bleeds through the heavy foundation on her cheek.
“Mamãe . . .” My voice breaks.
“He . . . He blames me for you leaving. You have to stay.”
I blink back fresh tears. Before I can answer, his voice bellows out the door.
“Give you my permission? This is my baby girl we are talking about.”
“With all due respect, she's not a baby anymore.” Damien's voice remains calm, despite my daddy's temper.“Kalena is a grown woman. I give you my word, I will always–”
“You don't know anything about her. She belongs here. Not with some two-bit drug dealer. That's right,” he pushes him in the chest, “I know all about you, Mr. Aolani.” He punctuated his name like the mere sound makes him want to throw up.
My breath catches. A few more tears fall as my lower lip falters.
“I should have never brought her here,” Damien grits through clenched teeth. He growls something else, but it's too low for me to hear. Even from the road, I can see his clenched fists and set jaw.
“Please, stay here,” Mamãe pleads with me, but all I hear is her voice on repeat.
I turn away from her just as Damien storms toward us.Without saying a word, he climbs in the driver's seat.
I sigh, telling myself it's not my fault. I can't even convince myself. I destroy everything. We should’ve never come here.
“Leave him,” I tell her, turning back toward the one person who betrayed me when I needed her most.
“You know we can never leave him. He will always find us.”
I clench my purse tighter at her words but refuse to answer. Instead, I open the passenger door and climb inside the car, leaving her standing in the driveway alone.
