Page 88 of The Power Play

“I’m going to get ready, when did you want to leave?” I ask.

“We can leave whenever you want, if you still want to go because we really don’t have to,” I can hear the concern in his voice.

I press a chaste kiss on his lips to try and convince us both that I’m okay. “I want to go; I should be ready in about an hour.”

“Okay,” he replied, skeptically.

I try one more time to convince him with a smile before going into my bathroom. Once I’m inside I drop the façade and look at myself in the mirror to see what I used to see when I was stuck in the house of horrors. A broken-down little girl.

Turning on the shower, I wait until it starts before I finally let the tears start to fall. I recite affirmations to myself in the mirror through the tears.

I am enough.

I am not my past.

I am strong.

I am not a victim, I'm a survivor.

34

Something is up with Audrey, and I can’t help but think it has to do with being nervous to meet my family. Maybe it’s too much too soon for her, but she’s continued to tell me she wants to go. Which she reassured me before we left, again in the car on the way, and once more just now when we pulled up and parked.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can go back home and have our own Thanksgiving just the two of us. I don’t want you to feel pressured,” I tell her because I can’t help but think that’s why she’s acting so off right now.

She places her hand on top of the one I have on her thigh and gives me a reassuring smile, “No, I’m okay, I want to spend time with your family.”

I squeeze her thigh before sighing and accepting that she’s not going to tell me what’s bothering her right now and I just have to accept it.

“Okay, let’s go.” I get out of the car and meet her at the passenger side, taking her hand in mine as we approach the door. She doesn’t try to pull away or say anything at the gesture.

I don’t bother knocking on the front door and just walk in, announcing my presence to my parents. My mom comes out to greet us, wearing her apron she only breaks out during the holidays and a wide smile.

“Charlie,” she pulls me into a tight hug before turning to Audrey, who’s hand is still clasped in mine. “Audrey, so nice to see you again, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Mann,” Audrey replies.

“Darling, I told you, please, it’s Martha. Come in you two, get comfortable.” She eyes our linked hands and gives me a subtle look that I know portrays her approval.

We walk into the living room where my dad is already planted in front of the TV with a football game on.

“You know, we are a hockey only house here, Pops,” I greet in jest. My dad looks up and smiles at us, standing when he sees we have company.

“Not my fault you all decide to take the holiday off and football doesn’t. You must be Audrey.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mann,” she greets, while I’m distracted at the fact that she’s still grasping my hand. I feel like a teenager so excited my crush is holding my hand.

“So formal, please it’s Charles, but call me Chuck.”

I see Audrey’s eyes bulge slightly at learning my dad’s name and I bite back a chuckle because I know exactly what she’s thinking.

“Oh, are you, um, Charlie, you never mentioned you and your dad have the same name,” she looks at me accusingly.

“Ah, yeah Charlie justlovesbeing Charles Mann Jr.,” my dad jokes because he knows I’ve always hated it.

“It’s a family name,” I tell Audrey while my dad laughs.

“Come on, son, grab a beer and join me. Audrey, do you like football?” my dad asks.

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