Page 34 of Whispers of My Skin

And I believe him.

I go home, still in a haze of tears, and lock myself in my room to wait for him, praying for a miracle to get us out of this nightmare. My mother, as always, isn’t around, so I’m all by myself—not that she’d provide any comfort anyway.

But it’s hard being alone with my thoughts, my anguish.

Night falls, cloaking the house in a deafening silence. With each passing minute, my gnawing anxiety grows.

Where is Joel? What’s happening? He and my father can’t possibly still be talking, so what the hell is going on? What if my father started beating him again after I left? What if he needs me? Please God, let him be okay.

I whisper my mantra over and over.

Let him come for me. Please, let him come for me.

Joel promised he’d come. I know my father is wrong. Joel isn’t using me, he isn’t a gold digger.

Joel loves me, he wouldn’t let me down, he wouldn’t abandon me.

He promised.

Yet as the hours pass, my hope slowly fades, along with the faith he asked me to have in him.

Finally, I cry myself into an exhausted sleep.

The next day, when there’s still no sign of Joel, I have to face up to the terrible truth.

Joel isn’t coming for me.

He’s broken his promise.

He doesn’t come back and I never see him again.

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