Page 12 of Bossy Hero

And stronger—physically and emotionally.

If I’m honest with myself, that’s why I came here. All the way to Georgia from Maine. I needed to feel safe. I haven’t in so long.

With all three kids out of the house, the beatings have gotten worse, not better as Travis promised. He always said it was the stress of parenting that made him drink so much. The burden of being the sole provider. The irony of saying that while refusing to let me work was never lost on me.

It doesn’t matter now.

I’m not taking him back. I’m done with his bullshit lies and empty promises.

Sadly, he won’t accept my decision. He’ll fight me tooth and nail. He’ll never let me leave him.

I fear he’ll kill me one day if I stay with him. He almost has so many times.

Moisture pricks my eyes, and my sinuses start to sting. Tears flow anew.

“Ma, are you okay?”

“Yes, son. I’m fine.” I sniffle as quietly as I can, attempting to hide my tears from him.

“You’re crying. I can tell.”

Oh goodie. I failed again.

“No, I’m not,” I bluff.

“Liar,” he teases, bringing a minuscule grin to my face.

“Fine. You caught me.” I flop onto the bed. “I’m just... I don’t know, Leo. I’m scared. No, I’m utterly terrified.”

Saying the words—out loud—unleashes a flurry of confusing emotions inside me. There’s a freeing sensation that comes with the honesty of the confession, as if I’m sharing the load. But that relief is tainted by the black streaks of shame.

I’m the parent. I shouldn’t need my son’s comfort and protection like this. It’s unfair of me to put this on him.

But I don’t want to die.

“Mom, I know you are. I’m scared for you too.”

His admission makes my chest quiver. “You are?”

“Always have been. I only wish I could have stopped him a long time ago. But I promise you that he won’t hurt you anymore. If they approve my leave, we’ll get you out and safe. I’ll talk to him. Man to man. Put an end to this shit. Once and for all.”

My pulse thrashes wildly in my neck, making me twitch all over. The idea of him having to clean up my mess is too much for me to bear. I’ve already sucked him into this more than I should have. All I want is for him to look after me while I search for a new place to live in a new town. Far from Travis. And then I’ll need him to accompany me for the move so I can pack without being accosted. That’s it. I just need Leo to watch over me while I handle it myself.

I can do this.

But I know my limits. Physically, I’m no match for his father.

“No, son. You can’t do that. I need to handle this. It’s my problem to solve. I just need your protection. Nothing more.”

Like always, we go back and forth for a while before I fake a headache to get off the phone. We’re not accomplishing anything. He’s determined to solve this for me, and I’m too stubborn to let him get involved that deep.

After I hang up, I stare at the painting on the wall. One of those tacky prints in brash colors that simultaneously match and clash with the comforter.

I sit there a long time. Eyes fixed on the framed image, unsure what I’m looking at. It’s just lines, shapes, and colors. At least, that’s how it looks to me. A mess. Thrown together in a way that passes as art. Although no one could tell what it’s supposed to be—not with any certainty.

That’s me.

A mess of bruises and scars. No rhyme or reason to their placement. Just a mangled bunch of shapes and lines dotting my flesh. Inside, it’s far worse. It leaves me barely discernible. Hardly a woman anymore. Barely a human.

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