Page 69 of Tough Love

The storm wins, his eyes turning as black as my heart when the truth hits home.

Life has spun full circle.

I lost the baby my rapist gave me, only to gain the care of the child he created with the person he stole from me.

Yeah.

Amelia Harris … this is your life….

TWENTY-THREE

Eight years ago

Fat tears roll over my cheeks as I look down at my shoes on the floor, my shoes that are too far away to reach comfortably. I was told when the discharge forms were drawn up that cramping and pain in my abdomen were to be expected, but shit, they didn’t say it would be all the time.

I’m so sick of it. The reminder of what he did, the reminder of who I am now, the reminder of how it’s always going to be.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dad coos as he steps into my room. “Let me help.”

I break, sobbing uncontrollably as my father, the man with so much hurt in his eyes, stoops and helps me slip my running shoes on as though I’m a child all over again.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble through hiccups, swiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Don’t.” He props my foot on his knee, tying the laces. “You have nothing to apologise for, Amelia.”

He’s mad, angry that a man he let into his house did this to his daughter. But what burns the most is he also believes the lies. He thinks I did this to myself. That it was some fucked up cry for help with how depressed I’ve been since Evan left. He thinks the fact I chose to try and get home on my own instead of calling for help means I was trying to cover my tracks.

Why, if I were going to do this to myself, would I have done it at Tristan’s? Why, if I’d done it to myself and I wasn’t in any immediate danger, would I have tried to get as far away from that place as I could while I literally bled out? Why would I even inflict this much damage to my body?

Granted, I didn’t want the baby. It was tainted, created out of hate and fear, but I also hadn’t made the hard decision yet on my own terms. I wanted to come to that conclusion in my own time, when I was ready to face the fallout.

“I didn’t do it, Dad,” I whisper, hoping that if I say it just one more time he might believe me.

He lifts his face to mine, his lips a firm line as he sighs. “Come on. You need to get out of the house, and it looks as though it’s going to rain soon.”

He thinks a walk in the park will help ease my aches and pains, that a glimpse of nature will wash away all the hurt and regret.

It just reminds me how ugly I am in comparison.

How foolish and stupid I was.

How many mistakes I made.

How life can chew you up and spit you back out without remorse.

And how everything you love can be stolen from you in the blink of an eye.

TWENTY-FOUR

“Are you ready to go?” I test Briar’s seatbelt again and give him a warm smile.

We’re car shopping today, searching for the one thing I’m going to need most now that it’s not only me I have to think about.

“You need to get a blue one,” he states, with such seriousness in his expression I can’t help but giggle.

“Okay. We’ll see if we can find a blue one.” In all honesty, I don’t care what colour it is. So if he wants blue to make him feel involved, then I could try for blue.

Evan opens the passenger door of his Jeep for me, having waited patiently while I buckled Briar in. He’s been reserved since I dropped the bomb about who Briar’s father is on him a week ago. I mean, the connection’s still there. He visits on his way home from work at night, we kiss, and then make out some more, but he’s holding something back, and I want to know what.

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