Page 111 of Free to Live
I was too tired to protest then. Now, I’m grateful for the tender care they’ve administered while I try to get my emotional strength back to face what I’ve put off for so long—what happened the night of the fire.
I’m sitting on the grass at the back of Phil and Jason’s property. The tulips Phil planted years ago are in full bloom and almost obscure me from view. My hands can feel the silkiness of the delicate petals, an improvement over yesterday and the day before. But they are still much too weak to hold on to weight of my camera.
I’m desperate to look through the viewfinder and get some perspective.
Unconsciously, I begin to flex my fingers gently. The burns aren’t terrible. Both my doctor at the hospital and Jason assure me there will be no permanent nerve damage nor will there be any scars, but I sustained burns likely by touching my metal doorknob and the scalding floor. They’re going to be tender for a while. The best thing I can do for them is to continuously try to work out the stiffness using the discharge therapy exercises and apply the prescription pain-relieving cream. And not to strain them by doing anything more than eating and dressing in the loosest clothing imaginable.
Glancing down at Phil’s oversized University of Charleston sweatshirt and Em’s leggings, I’m actually grateful for the first time I’m not as stacked as Corinna. Ruefully, I think I’d never be able to go without a bra for as long as I have without losing what’s left of my mind.
“Whatever you’re thinking of that put that smirk on your face, you’d better share, baby girl.” Phil’s voice intrudes my thoughts. Turning my face up to his, I see he’s carrying a tray of coffee and something completely unexpected.
My first camera. My heart begins to pound hard in my chest aching to reach for it.
God, I need to gain some semblance of myself.
I’m so twisted up inside, I don’t know what to feel anymore. I don’t even know where to start.
“I hope one of those is for me,” I say softly. My voice is still jagged. Even though I’ve been reassured countless times it will heal, it’s still a painful reminder of everything that happened.
Joe’s brought by cards from Grace every single day since I woke up. In the beginning, I also got cards and packages from him as well, but as time’s passed, his messages to me have become more abrupt. Although they’re still heartfelt, the notes are so brief, I can feel him pulling away.
I should be grateful he’s holding on until I’m healed, but will my heart ever be strong enough for him to say goodbye? Maybe I should have just accepted his love for what it was—understanding he’ll always love Mary more—and take any part of his heart as a gift.
Considering what I never thought I’d have, it’s still more than what I ever thought I’d be blessed with.
I’ve turned away from Phil, so I don’t realize how close he really is. It isn’t until I feel the heat of his chest against my back that I understand my big brother is doing what he always does—shielding me from the world. Remembering Joe’s words the night he proposed, I realize he’s doing what every father does as well—protecting his little girl. Tears prick my eyes.
Stretching his long legs on either side of mine, he wraps an arm around my waist. “Want to share what’s on your mind?”
I start to shake my head, but something stops me. I need to get this poison out of my system once and for all. “Do you love Cass more than the rest of us?”
Phil’s arm tightens so hard around my waist, I can’t breathe. I start coughing uncontrollably. “I can’t breathe, Phil.”
“What the hell, Hols? Where the fuck is this coming from?” Phil’s voice is disturbed. He tries to turn me to face him, but I shrug his hand away. I need anonymity for this.
“You saved her life, Phillip. You met her first. You loved her first.” The words are torn from me. “I don’t begrudge that. None of us would.” It’s nothing but the truth.
Phil’s arms loosen but don’t let me go. Instead, he leans forward and rests his chin on my shoulder for a few moments before his murmured words suck every ounce of air from my body. I’m surprised I don’t need my inhaler—another sign I’m starting to heal. “And you and I have both killed to survive, Hols. We both know we’d do it again in a heartbeat to protect those we love. We’d both bleed out and die to protect everything this family stands for—unconditional love.” He gently kisses my hair as silent tears cascade down my face. “We’ve never talked about it, honey, but we’re survivors of a different kind. We’ve survived the knowledge we’ve taken a life, and we’d do it again.”
“Do you regret it?” I whisper. How much of the course of my life would have changed if I hadn’t stood there watching Maria’s life slip away?
“Do I regret it? Absolutely. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I saved myself. I saved Cass. You didn’t mean to kill your stepmother—more the pity. You meant to hurt yourself which causes me no end of pain to think you didn’t have one of us at your side to protect you.” Sobs rack my body, and Phil just holds me tighter. Lowering his forehead into my shoulder for a few moments, he gathers his own thoughts before speaking.
“So, to answer your question, yes. I will always love Cassidy because we escaped our hell together. I will love her differently because our beginning was different. I will love Emily because she has this huge heart when she thought she was protecting it. The same for Ali for standing up for what is right in the face of any adversity. I will love Cori for her determination and courage. And you, Hols? I will love you because you’re filled with wisdom and vision. You’re the epitome of honor and vitality. You will never know what I went through when we realized you were in that house…” His voice locks and I feel the wetness of his tears against the side of my face. “Just as our love grew differently, I don’t love you because I love all of the rest of our sisters. I love you for you. Each love is separate, and they all blend perfectly. They’re like the flowers in this garden. Each one is damaged. Each one is perfect. Each one is beautiful. Each one is already leaving me.”
Phil’s so close I know he can feel my heart pounding through my back. “I always thought…”
“What? That you were loved because you came with the others?” Phil scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You’re loved because you’re you.”
I’m outright sobbing. “Phil…”
“Ali already told us, sweetheart. The day you think you have secrets in this family is the day I’m dead and buried. Are you ready to talk about it?”
I shake my head, but then I nod. “He still loves her.”
“He always will,” Phil tells me firmly. “But you have to realize his mistake wasn’t about you. His love is entirely for you. His heart is big enough for loving both of you.”
“I…I don’t know how to begin to fix this.”
