Page 10 of Sinister Hearts
“That would be perfect. Thank you, Billy, for everything.” My eyes glossed over.
“Glad to have you back, Faye.” Billy gave me a gentle hug.
Later, I walked into Ma’s house with a feeling of relief and confusion. I felt like I had taken twenty steps back into a past I didn’t want to return to, and the feeling of defeat overtook meyet again. I didn’t know which of my past lives were worse. I felt lost—no navigation in life, just pure survival and pure spite.
Ma watched as I picked at my food and attempted to spark conversation, observing I was deep in thought.
“So, how did it go?” she asked. I looked up at her, not realizing I had been gazing at my plate and playing with my food like a child.
“I start tomorrow,” I responded, taking a small bite of my food and forcing it down.
“That’s good news!”
I glanced at her, unsure if it was or not. “Yeah,” I said, as she took a seat by me and put her cup down.
“You don’t seem all that excited?” she asked me, worried. I put my fork down on the plate, frustrated. I was exhausted from dealing with my internal feelings.
“I just can’t help but feel like I’m going backwards.” She grabbed my shoulder in the way she always did when she tried to speak life into me.
“Mija, sometimes you have to take a few steps back in order to propel forwards.” Tears welled in my eyes. I looked at Birdie, so content with her full belly and heartfelt giggles, as she picked at her food over the dinner table.
“I feel like I’m failing her. I don’t know if I can do this.” I sighed nervously.
Ma grabbed my face and said, “The only way you could fail is if you give up. We are Robles’. We aren’t quitters. You can and youwill.” She pushed the plate of food closer to me.
“I can and I will,” I whispered to myself, with anxiety rumbling in my chest. The food tasted bland on my taste buds, but I knew it wasn’t the food, it was my life. And that was a hard thing to digest.
With that, I let those words linger in my wounds as if they would heal them. After putting Birdie to bed, I hopped in the shower, where I felt was the only safe place to crumble. And I did just that. A million times, every night, I sunk to the floor in my shower and let the ache in my bones linger. I gasped for air while I internally screamed until it hurt—a desperation that I let engulf me. But only at night. And only in this shower. While my child slept peacefully. I was in pieces; all my dark thoughts consuming me. I had nothing. I had exactly zero dollars to my name—no thanks to Vadon who froze our accounts, leaving me and Birdie with nothing. If it wasn’t for Ma, I didn’t know how I’d be able toafford the last few months. That thought doomed me into more darkness.
I felt so much guilt for being a burden on my mother. I let that thought hit me like a ton of bricks, one by one.
No home, a broken family, and more so a broken spirit. The anxiety of having to start over felt heavy. It felt unreachable and so far away. Swarming thoughts of wanting to disappear engulfed me as I lay on the tiled shower, letting the water hit me. Giving up was easy. It was getting back up in time of adversity, and taking the hits, that was difficult—rebuilding yourself from nothing. It was the hardest, most painful experience. Giving birth to a new me and killing the old me, who so mercilessly didn’t want to let me go. The pain changed me.
How did I let this man gain so much control of my life right under my nose? He was older, more persuasive, and seemed established. Those should have been the first red flags. I was a kid who was naive and impressionable. Perhaps an easy target for someone like him. The sad thing is, I trusted that he’d never do what he’s done to us. It’s true when they say love makes you blind. But was it love? Or manipulation? I don’t think I ever really knew that man. Not until now. I don’t think I’d ever seen him as crystal clear as I had in the last few months. The fact that he could hurt me? By all means, fine. Eventually I’d mend like I had all my life. But Birdie? That’s what was tearing me apart. It wasn’t just about me. This was about her.
How could someone be so cruel to their own flesh and blood? It wasn’t the fact that he chose another woman over me. I was already at my wits end with the mental torment and the abuse. No, it was the fact that he chose another woman overher. It was the ultimate betrayal. A betrayal that burned the skin and the soul. The anxiety of also losing her drowned me in a despair I couldn’t seem to get out of. What if he won, what if he took herfrom me? All my self doubt taunted me. I was drowning right here in this shower. At least that’s what it felt like anyway.
The lights began to flicker, and in that instant, a voice so clear rang through my head, saying, “Get Up.” I felt a cold presence touch my shoulder. So I did what the voice told me to do and carried my heavy aching body to bed. I didn’t even brush my hair or my teeth. But I had showered today. I had fought another day. I knew that had to count for something. I knew it was enough, just for today. Until another and another, and every day after. I’d do it for Birdie. Aching, bleeding, it didn’t matter. It was all for her.
I woke to Birdie chuckling outside, playing in the garden. The same garden I once played in. I couldn’t help but ponder on how beautiful it must have been to be so wrapped up in the small things. Like a simple petal on a flower. To be a child again and all its wonder.
Mornings were slow in Ma’s house and I think that’s exactly what we all needed.
Coffee beans filled my senses. Every morning it was like a hug embraced me. It was a new day and all I could do was try to make the best of it. Today was my first day of work at The Wild Minx, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous to start my first shift back. Did I even remember how to bartend? Hell, I could make a mixed drink in my sleep. I knew for certain I still had that down. It was the other things that kept haunting my thoughts. But I wouldn’t even go there this morning.Deal now, cry later, Faye.
I spent the day with Birdie, tending to the horses and the chickens, while Ma ran some errands. She got home just in time with groceries and a new pair of black knee-high cowgirl boots. She plopped them on the counter top and said, “Figured I’d get you a new pair for those dancing feet tonight.” She did a little spin and snapped her fingers with jazz hands and I howledlaughing. Life was difficult, but there was one thing constant in my life and that was my ma.
“Thank you.” I hugged her so tight. She looked like she wanted to cry, but she didn’t. The Robles women were notorious for that.
“Go get em’ tiger.” Ma swatted my butt.
I did a simple makeup look, with a dark red lip—the red lips quickly became my signature look. It signified my A, like Scarlet wore inThe Scarlet’s Letter. In a way it felt like my redemption, and I loved it. Becoming this new woman I was growing into. All the shedding and morphing into my new skin was uncomfortable, and more often, even painful. It was in these moments Vadon’s awful words would terrorize me the most. Trying to drag me to hell with them. Some days I hated to admit that they would win, but I was learning to face those demons. To make them afraid of me, like I was of them. The stupid memories, those stupid words. Would they win today, or would I?
Vadon found joy in calling me a whore, a bitch, a cunt. Not in the endearing way that would make me wet in bed, no. In a way that made me feel less than. Like I was nothing. In the type of demeaning way that would crawl into my skin and fracture my spirit.
He wanted to call me a whore? I was going to be the best damn whore he’d ever seen, while I built my throne and he kissed my feet like a peasant. Today, I would win. I wasn’t in pain anymore, no. I was fucking livid. It was my way of expressing my freedom from the mental and emotional shackles that he had on me for years. But not today. Not ever again. I vowed no man would ever get me to the dark place he had sent me to. No man would ever have the luxury of taking anything away from me ever again. Not a home, and especially not my inner peace.
I was on a path of fury, of revenge. But what would come out of it would be success. Resilience. I would make him eat his words and I would be reborn, like a phoenix. I would fly again even if I had to bleed. I was ready to soar and not feel guilt or shame. I was coming home to myself. I knew my spirit was dismantled and it would take time to unravel from the ashes. I was ready to shed each layer that I built to get more familiar with myself again. I wanted to embrace her with open arms, love her, understand her. There is only one way to heal, and that’s feeling. There was no amount of pain that could be inflicted upon me anymore. Not after him. I was ready to bleed, scream, fight, whatever it took to be free from the torment that crippled me.
