Page 145 of Stay for Me

I’d only gotten a weekend with him, a taste of the dream.

I stared at the tanned concrete of my parent’s driveway, remembering the last time I stood here, in a new pair of heels, feeling brave and strong for the first time in my life. I thought I’d broken the cycle then. I thought I’d proved them wrong, but now, I knew that was a lie. There was always something that would drag me kicking and screaming back into the past I’d escaped from.

Cycles had no ending, after all.

Between my father’s borderline narcissism and immense desire for control and my mother’s god complex and unhealed trauma, I was doomed from the start, the daughter who was never good enough, a record of unmet expectations longer than the list of traumas they’d given me.

As I was lost in my thoughts, Lucas tugged me again, pulling me in to a house I never wanted to step into again, the familiar scent of fresh laundry hitting my nose, the faint smell of lemons hanging in the air, the aftermath of my mom’s obsessive cleaning habits. I looked over to the tanned couch, perfectly stationed in front of the large TV my father liked to watch football on and drink in front of while my mother got lost in her own world, using social media to escape the overbearing weight of this family.

My eyes lifted, landing on the family portrait from when I was only a freshman in high school. I studied the false smile on my lips, wondering how in the world no one could see the pain in my eyes. My mother’s smile was real. The only time she ever truly smiled was for a camera, ready to show the world how perfect she was, how happy she was, how she could do no wrong. My father, on the other hand, wasn’t smiling, the set line of his mouth filled with a cold malice, his eyes demanding perfection and instant gratification.

Once we were all inside, Lucas slammed the door, and my father ushered my mother further into the living room.

“Okay, son, we’re in the house. Now let Diana go,” my father ordered, not looking at me.

I snapped then, the cord I’d been holding for so long breaking in two, releasing me from the burden of his approval.

A huffed laugh left my lips, and all three pairs of eyes landed on me. It only made me chuckle harder.

“Diana, please,” my mother huffed.

Tears were in my eyes, the laughter uncontrollable. “He won’t even look at me,” I laughed, lifting my free hand to my father, the man who was supposed to protect me, to vouch for me, to love me without limitations or standards. “Your daughter is being held hostage by her abuser, and instead of looking at me, you keep referring to him as ‘Son!’”

My father, the coward, dropped his eyes to the floor, his throat bobbing.

I ripped my arm out of Lucas’ hold and he moved, trying to grab me again, but I advanced my father. He was tall, maybe an inch or two shorter than Mags, but that didn’t stop me from getting his face. “One day,” I seethed, “because I will get out of this, so help me God, I will. One day, the universe is going to bless me with daughter.”

My father’s eyes snapped up, wide and shocked.

“And my daughter will never know you.” My eyes sliced to my mother. “Either of you. She won’t even know your names. Her light will never touch you, and that, God,thatwill be my revenge. Knowing she will never have to feel the pain, theanguishyou put me through. I’d rather die than let her feel the things I had to when I was a child.I’d rather die than let her cry the same tears I did.”

“Babe, our kids are going to come over here,” Lucas scoffed, aloof and stupid as always.

I turned, my braid flying over my shoulder. “If you think I will ever let you touch me ever again, then all those drinks, all that alcohol, must’ve really did a number on you,” I snapped.

“Diana,” my mother tried.

I backed away from them. “You don’t deserve to know me,” I whispered. “You never wanted to know me. You wanted tocontrolme.”

Mags words from years ago floated to the surface then, echoing softly in my head, the jagged edges of his voice a comfort.

When you were born, they made a mold for you, and you, being the amazing woman you are, refused to fit into it.

“Bitch,” Lucas barked, snapping his fingers and pointing to the spot beside him. “Get over here.”

My eyes dropped to the gun in his hand and just as I was about to open my mouth, I felt heat at my back. Then, my ears filled with jagged edges and promises of happiness. My knees nearly gave out, a breath of relief leaving me.

He came for me.

“What did I say would happen if you called her that again, Lucas?”

My parents’ eyes lifted to the cowboy standing behind me, both of them frozen.

My ex staggered back, raising the gun, his hand trembling with fear as his voice shook with it. “Y-you...”

Mags chuckled darkly.

The front door was kicked in suddenly, a scream coming from my mother’s throat, a large blond man stormed through. His foot went to the back of Lucas’ leg, taking the piece of shit to the ground. The gun was plucked from Lucas’ hand before I could blink, then his hands were cuffed, the blond man’s knee in the middle of his back, pinning my ex to the carpet.

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