Page 78 of Until Forever

Collided

Chapter One

I was only six the night it happened.

I remember him being big, not tall enough to play basketball, but broad enough to be a wide receiver. A giant to me back then. He was my hero, my best friend. One of my mom’s favorite people. Until he wasn’t. And it all changed in one night.

I was in my favorite hiding place, in the coat closet across from their room, the moment it started. The shouting, the clashing, curse words, ones that a six-year-old little girl should never hear, especially from her parents. I listened, attempting to understand what was happening, my six-year-old thought process working overtime and struggling to find the cause amongst the bad words. I grabbed phrases, trying to pull them out from the chaos.

Another woman.

Did he love her?

How could he cheat?

Leaving.

I didn’t know what that meant. Being six I couldn’t understand how my dad could cheat if he didn’t go to school or play any games that I knew of. What was wrong with him loving another woman?

He loved my grandma before she went to heaven. If he was leaving, where was he going and could we go too? But my mom was furious so I didn’t know if she’d want to go. Her tiny fists moved so fast while hitting his chest, her hands attempting to hit his face. I wanted to go out and say something, to make it stop, but I knew I shouldn’t. And I was afraid. I had never been afraid of my parents before. They always protected me, but I was terrified then. My parents didn’t yell and never fought, and from what I knew they were happy. He gave her soft sweet kisses that made me and Melissa cringe and snicker but we really loved it. When we watched movies she was always in his arms. They were perfect.

At least I thought they were.

Or maybe my six-year-old mind couldn’t process things as they were. As a child, I couldn’t see the cracks. Maybe I blocked out the hushed arguments. I never counted the times my dad walked in the next morning, after having left right after dinner, saying he wouldn’t be gone long.

When it was all over, I scurried from my hiding place and saw Dad smiling but I could tell he was sad.

“Are you okay?” I asked him with tears in my eyes. He scooped me up in his arms and hugged me. It was warm and tender and I didn’t want to let him go. It was probably woman’s intuition even at that young age…

“Go to bed princess,” he said with a weary smile, and I hesitated until his smile brightened and he gave me his signature wink—one that was familiar and made me believe everything would be okay—but before I closed my bedroom door his feet hit the stairs and headed in the direction of the living room instead of past my room where their bedroom was. I ran out quickly, only to see him leave out the front door.

He left with nothing but the clothes on his back.

The next morning I could hear my mother’s sobs fill the void where the screaming had been. At breakfast my sister Mel asked where Daddy was. My mom’s eyes were usually the light green that Mel’s were, but they weren’t bright anymore—just puffy and dull and void. She took a deep breath and said it would just be us girls from then on. Mel looked at me confused and was about to start her endless stream of questions, which we both did when an answer didn’t make sense to us, but I kicked her knee under the table and shook my head. I knew my mom wouldn’t answer those questions, that she couldn’t, and I hoped Dad would be back to answer them himself.

He didn't come back the next day, or the day after that.

He never came back. Ever.

The mother I knew before that day disappeared, as every day that passed seemed like her heart broke into even smaller pieces than the day before.

He broke her.

I promised myself I’d never let a man break me, make me a shell of myself, taking all the love I had to give with him, leaving barely a drop for his own daughters. The first and only man I’d ever loved became the first person I hated. I hated that I had his sky-blue eyes, and night-black hair. I used to love when people told me how much I looked like him. When he didn’t come back, I wished I had my mom’s light brown hair instead of his. I wish I looked like her instead of him. Sometimes I wondered if looking at me hurt her, reminded her of everything that stole her joy, her peace, all the love she had. My father would be the only person I’d ever allow to break my heart.

—

I wake up and shake the nightmare of the past from my thoughts. Sweat is covering my body, my heart racing just as it did that night. I glance at Ryan. He’s asleep and looks so peaceful. He never has night terrors. I guess that’s because he's never experienced anything world-shattering, like tiny earthquakes that rock your entire existence.

His parents are still blissfully happy together.

He doesn’t know what it was like to look at your front door every day, hoping and praying your father would walk through it. He isn’t paranoid about the person he loves deciding in an instant you’re not important, that you’re worthless. That they don't need you. He doesn’t believe it’s dangerous to love regardless of how many times I’ve told him. He always just squeezes my hand and laughs me off.

I won’t be able to go back to sleep. I never am after this nightmare.

My mind is too restless.

I don't have a choice but to get out of bed. My feet carry me to the kitchen to see if chamomile tea will help. It doesn't.

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