Page 222 of Anger

“I’m sorry, Amélie. I never wanted you or Kane to have to know the truth and bear the weight of what happened to me. My abduction,” she chokes on the word. “My rape,” she adds so softly I can barely hear it.

Her voice stronger, she explains, “It’s a parent’s job to protect their children and carry the load on themselves. I was trying to give you a childhood, I just got so scared all the time that I didn’t know how.”

Breathing out, I roll my shoulders and ask the one question that doesn’t make sense in all of this.

“How do Kane and I have the same father? If he’s the man who raped you, did he find you again when Kane was young and do it again? Is that why you always ran? To keep him from finding you?”

It would make so much sense.

It would explain my entire childhood.

Pure sorrow fills her expression, her previous strength gone.

“No. I loved your father. And he loved me. He never raped me. Not once. He was trapped in the same place that I was. And while we wanted to be together, we knew that we never could. He was just as damaged as me.”

The truth hits me like a hammer to the head.

The similarity.

It’s like I believed with Damon…That two damaged people can’t come together without ripping each other apart.

But being with Damon has proved me wrong in that. The sorrow in my mother flows through me to realize that she may have loved someone as much as I do Damon. But they couldn’t find a way for the jagged edges of their puzzle to lock them together and help them heal.

It makes me want to find him for her, to see if it’s possible for them to make it work.

Maybe I’ll mention it to Kane.

Another question comes to mind, and it takes everything I have to ask it.

“Did I do something to hurt you? Kane told me you didn’t start running until I was born. What was so bad about me?”

Mom reaches across the table with both arms, and I grab her hands without hesitation. Her skin is soft and warm, but the bones feel frail beneath it.

“Don’t ever think that. You and Kane both are the best parts of my life. Raising the two of you was the purpose of my life and my biggest success. You’re both so strong and smart and compassionate. Everything I wanted you to be. Don’t you ever think that, Amélie.

Her fingers grip mine harder. It’s like now that she has a hold of me, she’ll never let me go.

“I ran because you were the most beautiful little girl I’d ever seen, and I feared the monsters would find me again and take you away. That’s why I ran. My own fear. Don’t you ever dare believe that you did something wrong. You’ve done everything right, and I’m so damn proud of you.”

Tears are steaming down my face. They drip from my jaw to the table.

The same for Mom.

I never hurt her like I thought. I didn’t cause her to fear the world so that she always felt she needed to run.

Mom ran from her past as much as I’ve tried to since leaving for school, and now I hate myself for treating her so poorly.

“Mom,” I say, my voice stricken with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Amélie.”

She releases our hands and stands from the table. By the time she comes around to my side, I’m already on my feet and my mother pulls me into the first real hug I’ve ever received from her.

It’s exactly like a mother’s hug should be. Warm and strong. Pure and unassuming. Her love pours into me, and I soak it up, finally realizing that this is exactly what I’ve always wanted.

“I love you, Amélie. You’re my beautiful little girl who grew into a strong woman.”

“I love you, Mom.” My arms pull her in tighter.

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