Page 114 of Landon & Shay: Part One

I walked over to her and took her hands into mine, stepping right in front of my father, and blocking his viewpoint from her.

She was hurt, just like Landon. Lost, confused, and so unsure. So, I knew I had to say to her the same truths I had spoken to him. “Mom…you are more than the story that this man wrote for you. You are more than my father. You are smart. You are funny. You are strong.” My eyes watered over as I felt the trembling in her hands. “You are loyal. You are breathtaking. You are beautiful. And this is not the end of your story; it’s only the beginning. But it begins now. With you and me, walking out of that front door. You can do this. You don’t have to walk alone. I got you.”

“Don’t listen to her, Camila. She doesn’t know you like I do,” Dad barked as he stood. His crocodile tears were now gone, and his cold stare returned once more. “I am your home. I am your truth. You can’t leave me.”

Her hands were still shaking, but I didn’t let go. I wouldn’t walk out of that house without her. I wouldn’t leave her side in the middle of a war. I simply held on tighter.

“Mom, it’s okay to leave him. It’s okay for you to turn your back on him. You deserve more, and you won’t be alone. But please, come with me. I’ll be it…” My voice cracked as tears began to fall down my cheeks. “I’ll be your willow tree.”

That was when she fell apart, but I was there to keep holding her up.

“Can we go home now?” I asked her.

“This is her home,” Dad argued, but I knew he wouldn’t understand. Truth was, my father never really had a home in his whole life. Home wasn’t a building; it was a feeling of warmth. Kurt Gable lived in coldness his whole life.

I ignored him. “Mom?”

“Yes,” she finally whispered, the word so small and delicate. “Let’s go home.”

“Do you want to pack some things?” I asked.

“No.” She shook her head and squeezed my hand. “I have everything I need right here.”

We walked out of the house with Dad shouting toward us. “You’re making a huge mistake! You’ll come back to me, Camila! You always come back! I am all you’ll ever have! You need me.”

His words were harsh and filled with lies. He was belittling and mean, but my mom? She kept walking. She kept standing, even though he tried his best to shatter her spirit. She kept going. Each step making her stronger. Each step moving her toward a better tomorrow.

And that tiny corner of my heart reserved for my father? It completely dissolved.

* * *

When we arrivedat my grandmother’s apartment, she opened the door in her nightgown and raised a curious eyebrow. Then, her stare moved to the suitcase and to her daughter.

“It’s okay.” She smiled a sad smile and wrapped her arms around Mom, who finally completely began to crumble and sob into Mima’s arms. Mima parted her lips as she held onto her daughter. Her blood. Her first love. She whispered softly into her hair, “It’s okay.”

Mom and I stayed in Mima’s guest room that night. I showered and got ready for bed first. When Mom came into the room, she smiled my way. Her smile was sad, but at least she still was able to curve her lips up.

Her hair was dripping wet from the shower she’d taken, and she wrapped it in a towel. She moved over to join me on the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “You must think I’m stupid and weak,” she timidly stated.

“Never.”

“I’ve tried to leave before, you know. Millions of times. Yet, somehow, he’d always find a way to pull me back in. He’d beat down my self-esteem so much that I’d be left feeling like I was worthless. I know it sounds stupid to believe the words from someone like your father, but I was so young when I met him. I was young and confused, and he was there during the hardest time of my life. I owe him for the greatest part of me, and he loved to hold that over my head…he loved to remind me that, without him, there wouldn’t have been a you.”

“Just because he’s part of my DNA doesn’t mean that he gets to hold that over you, Mom.”

“No, but you don’t understand…Shay…” She swallowed hard. “I was seventeen years old when I had you. I was a very troubled kid. I ran away from home for a long time and got involved with drugs. That’s how I met your father. That’s how we fell in love.”

“I never knew that.”

She nodded. “Yes. When I found out I was pregnant, I was strung out. I was in no shape to have a child. I was high on the regular, hardly eating, and my mind was so far gone, I didn’t think I could do it…” Tears danced down her cheeks as she gripped the edge of the mattress. “I didn’t think I could get clean. I was just a kid, for goodness’ sake. I didn’t know what I was doing, but your dad was there. He helped me through the withdrawals. He held my hand through the hardest time of my life, which brought me you. So, in a way, I always felt like I’d owed him for that, and it was something he held over my head time and time again.”

“He abused you.”

“No. He never laid a hand on me,” she disagreed.

“Mom.” I shook my head. “He abused you. He hurt you emotionally and mentally. He fed you lies for decades, and that’s not your fault. I would have believed all the things you did if I was fed those lies on a daily basis. You’re not weak because you stayed so long. You’re strong because you did. But know that I’m here now because of you. Because you raised me, not him. You were a mother and father to me whenever he wasn’t around. You’re my hero, and it’s going to be okay.”

She smiled and nudged me in the shoulder. “How did you get so smart?”

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