“Ok,” I rasp.
He turns around and leaves the same way he came. I don’t know how I don’t punch him. The words ‘thank you’ get stuck in my throat.
I stumble into my room and just completely fall apart.
The Elliot sisters chat room
Eden: Hey guys.
Eden: Remember that story I told you on our group call, about the boy I met in the woods six years ago? The one who saved me and then I destroyed him, you know, as a thank you? The one who then turned into Issy Woo?
Manuela: Remember? As if I’ve been able to think about anything else all week, girl.
Faith: ‘Remember that story?’ she asks casually, as if she didn’t blow our entire worlds when she told us.
Eden: Ok, fine, you remember, I got it.
Eden: Turns out, I still have feelings for him.
Faith: Big shock. Never saw that coming.
Faith: *sarcasm*
Manuela: We get it, Fee.
Eden: I think I’m in love with him.
Faith: Still? After everything that happened?
Eden: After everything we did to him, you mean?
Manuela: You didn’t do anything, En. I never want to hear you say that. Not ever, you hear? Your kidnapper did these horrible things. You were his victim.
Faith: Ugh. Ugly words filter.
Manuela: Sorry, sorry. I know the therapist said not to use these two words again, but I really needed to.
Eden: Sometimes it’s therapeutic for me too. To use these words, I mean. To remember what happened to me. That I was taken. And that I was the victim. That he was not my ‘dad’, as I still call him sometimes (habit), but something completely different. But with Isaiah… I wasn’t a victim. I wasn’t someone who had been stolen from my family, my sisters and my real dad. Isaiah didn’t know any of that. I was just a girl.
Manuela: A girl he fell in love with.
Faith: Manu, if you’re crying right now, I swear to—
Manuela: Yeah, so I’m crying, what are you going to do about it?
Faith: Nothing. I think I’m crying too.
Eden: Hello? Having a crisis over here!
Manuela: Sorry, hun. You say you’re still in love with him, right?
Eden: No.
Faith: You’re not still in love with him?
Eden: I’m in love with him for the first time. Back then, I was a child. I was in love, or I thought I was, but I wasn’t me. He… I was in my teens, but mentally, I think I was a child, or worse. I was not feeling things properly, it was all a mess. Anyway, brushing past the ugly stuff, I—
Faith: You’re not supposed to do that, brush past the trauma, according to the therapist.