Page 59 of My Vows Are Sealed

I smiled, then sighed and went to sit down on the edge of my bed. Brendan came to sit beside me, then kicked off his shoes and got all the way on the bed, leaning back against the wall.

“Come here, baby,” he said, holding his arms open.

Slowly, since I still had my torso wrapped from my broken rib, I crawled into bed and went to sit next to him, curling into his side. His arms folded around me and he dropped a kiss on my head as he trailed his fingers up and down my back. We just sat there like that for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly. “What happened tonight?”

“I don’t even know,” I sniffled. “That’s the worst part. He was so angry when we got back, and he almost ran you over with his car and didn’t even care. But he didn’t say a single word to me the entire ride back, and when we got home, he just told me to get to bed because he wanted me at the early service tomorrow. It’s just…I don’t know if he was mad at me or if his mood was because of something else, and I don’t know if he’s going to fly off the handle in the morning or if this is going to be the time when he doesn’t do anything. It’s the not knowing. Like, I was genuinely terrified of him when he dislocated my shoulder and broke my rib. Anyone would have been. But this is just as scary, just in a different way. If that makes any sense.”

“It does. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells around him all the time.”

“Or waiting for a ticking time bomb, but I have no idea how much time is left on it. I never know what’s going to set him off. And what doesn’t set him off one week earns me the belt the next week. It’s like I don’t know the rules because they’re constantly changing and he doesn’t let me in on it when he decides to change them. Or like sometimes he’s just looking for an excuse to punish me.”

“Maybe he is,” he sighed as he absently played with my hair. “Abusers do that. If you don’t give them an excuse to hurt you, they’ll invent one if they have to. Can I ask you something, baby? I’m not trying to judge you. I just want to understand.”

“Yeah, of course. Now that you know about my dad, I don’t have any secrets from you,” I told him.

Instead of saying anything right away, he pulled back just enough that he could put his hand under my chin and tilt my face up for a kiss. And for a minute, the rest of the world just disappeared as I lost myself in the absolute rightness of the way it felt to connect with him like this.

I knew that temptation came in all forms, and that sometimes giving in to it felt good, but I’d given in to temptation that felt good in the moment before, like eating a donut in youth group when my dad had told me I wasn’t allowed to. This wasn’t like that. It felt like the most beautiful and pure thing in the world. It was like he’d said that day in the carpentry room. This wasn’t lust. It was love. Real, honest, true love. And love wasn’t wrong. God meant for us to love and be loved.

“I love you,” he whispered when he came up for air.

“I love you too,” I sighed contentedly as I laid my head back on his shoulder. “You realize you don’t have to ask if you can kiss me, right? The answer’s always going to be yes.”

He chuckled. “That wasn’t what I wanted to ask. I’ve just been wanting to do that all night and I couldn’t while we were around other people.”

“I hate hiding,” I admitted. “I hate acting like I’m ashamed of you, because I’m not.”

“I know. I do too, but if it keeps you safe, it’s worth it. There’snothingI wouldn’t do to keep you safe. Andthatdoes tie in with what I wanted to ask you. Like I said, I’m not judging or trying to pressure you into anything here. I’m just trying to understand. I know you’re scared, but why don’t you tell someone about what’s going on? Peter and Marie, or your guidance counselor at school?”

I sighed. I knew this would come up at some point, and I knew it wasn’t fair to him for me not to tell him everything. But part of the reason why I wouldn’t talk to anyone was something that would affect his day-to-day life, and I wasn’t sure how he was going to take it. It wasn’t fair for me to ask him not to tell anyone, but I also couldn’t risk him saying something, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me something,” I finally said.

“What?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“You can’t do anything about it, and you can’t tell anyone. No matter how upset you are about it.”

“I promise. I haven’t said a word to anyone about anything you’re dealing with.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “I tried to tell people. Remember Sister Martha and Sister Agatha at St. Bishop’s?”

“Yeah. They were like a hundred years old,” he chuckled weakly. “You told them?”

I nodded. “I tried to. And they talked to my dad about it, but he just told them that I was acting out and that I was a pathological liar who made stories up for attention. He literally managed to convince them that they couldn’t believe a single word that came out of my mouth. Because he’s a man of God, so of course he couldn’t actually be hurting his own daughter, right? And then I got the belt when I got home because my punishments are a private family matter, and I’m not permitted to speak of them to anyone. Ever.”

Brendan took a deep breath, like he was trying to control his anger, and then kissed my forehead. “He’s going to be in for a rude awakening when he gets to the Pearly Gates. So I guess that’s why you don’t feel safe talking to Peter and Marie either. You’re worried that he’ll try to pull the same thing with them.”

“Basically,” I admitted. “It’s not just that, though. I think Marie would believe me, even if Peter didn’t. But the one teacher at St. Bishop’s who believed me, Sister Paula, called CPS. They came to talk to me at school, and then they talked to my dad and helostit when I got home. It hurt to sit down for a week by the time he was done whipping me with his belt. I don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not, but he said that in case I’m thinking of trying anything like that again, he filed paperwork with CPS that says they can’t talk to me without a parent present. He told them I have emotional problems and it would be too traumatic for me.”

“Damn it,” he muttered. “He’s got you caught between a rock and a hard place. Even if you did tell someone and they believed you and tried to get you help, he’s running interference and trying to keep CPS from doing their jobs too.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “And there’s more. This is the part you’re not going to like.”

“You realize I hate everything you’ve already said, right?” he chuckled humorlessly.

I snorted quietly. “I know, but this is different. I asked your mom for help a couple of years ago. I figured that because she was my mom’s best friend, maybe she’d help me. Or at least help my mom, because he doesn’t hit her – at least not that I ever see – but he treats her like the dirt on the bottom of his shoe.”

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