Chapter 21 Lana #2
“You think you can take my son away from me?” My voice is surprising me.
I don’t sound like the calm, organised, nice people pleaser version of myself.
This voice is different, unhinged, borderline insane, as if a laugh was about to come out of my throat.
And I bet that’s what any mother would sound like at the threat of having her child taken away from her.
“Why not? You did it. Took him in the middle of the night and ran. I can do the same.”
“I did what I had to do to protect him. You gave me no choice!” I yell, my tone sharper than a knife.
“To protect him from me?” he spits. “Don’t rewrite history. What did I ever do to him?” He points his finger at me. The air crowds in my lungs, my hands tingling, water starting to blur my vision without a single tear falling.
“YOU STOLE HIS INNOCENCE, YOU IMBECILE!” I shout at the top of my lungs. Ben steps back, as if I had punched him.
“You’re hysterical!” he snarls. “Sorry to break it to you, darling, but you were in it as much as I was. You were the one provoking me. It’s on you too!” he fires back with an accusing index.
“Provoking you? PROVOKING YOU?” I lift my shirt, showing the scar on my ribs.
“Here.” I grab my hair, twist it into a knot to expose my nape, where I know a deep scar is imprinted from the time he hit me with a book.
“HERE!” I shout. “And so many other places. You did this, Ben. It’s time you take responsibility.
” I’ve stepped closer, the distance between us ending up in just a meter.
He looks at me deadpan and laughs. A cold, spine-chilling laugh.
“And what are you going to do? I’ll create false reports from your coworkers.
Say you’re unstable. Unsafe for Noah. I’ll make people believe it.
” His smirk twists into something monstrous, and then, without warning, he lunges.
His hand flies toward my throat, but I react faster.
I duck, pivot, and slam my heel into his shin.
He stumbles. I grab his wrist and twist his pinky and ring finger back with both hands.
Thank God for Carter’s lessons. Ben yelps in shock, eyes wide, jerking back.
“Don’t ever touch me again,” I hiss. He’s completely stunned, holding his fingers with a wince. My heart slams against my ribs. When I speak, I’m composed, ready.
I’m not calming the storm.
I am the storm.
“Listen to me carefully. You can try all you want to threaten me with false accusations and made-up testimony. But the reality is that I am a good mother. I’M A DAMN GOOD MOTHER.
Everybody knows it, EVERYBODY. Noah’s teachers, doctors, parents at school, my own family, the neighbors, and every single person that met us know it.
But you? No one here has ever met you, you’re the ghost of a father who’s already been replaced.
” His jaw flexes at the mention of Carter.
“How dare you threaten me when I’m the one who can put you behind bars?
” His lower lip shakes for a second. “I took several pictures throughout the years. Bruises, cuts. And videos, so many videos of you hitting me in our living room, all of them with your face exposed and recognizable.”
“You’re lying,” he sneers.
“Look for yourself,” I say, pulling out my phone and sending him the video I kept locked away.
“It was Valentine’s Day. How could I forget?
It’s not every day my husband tries to choke me with the scarf I gave him.
” Ben pulls his phone from his back pocket.
His face drains as he sees it, livid, colorless.
“I made copies,” I add. “So don’t bother deleting that one. ”
“You’re not yourself,” he says, shaking his head like denial might save him. Like questioning my sanity could erase the truth. Maybe I’m not sane. I did stay in an abusive marriage because I thought I could fix him.
“I’m not alone anymore. There are people in my corner now, ready to help me.
Ready to protect Noah and me. So I suggest you stick to the schedule and treat me with respect if you want any chance of staying in Noah’s life.
” I’m not shrinking for him. I’m taking up space, holding the room with eyes wide open, unafraid and unforgiving.
“Do you understand?” I shout, one final time.
A few seconds pass. His mouth twists, like he’s choking down whatever venom he wants to spit.
And then, the miracle happens. A slight nod.
Just that. But his silence says more than words ever could.
I nod back, and the last pound of weight lifts off my shoulders, crumbling into dust.
It’s over. I did it. I stood up for myself. And I won. I wasn’t sure about pressing charges, not until today. But he laid hands on me again. That’s it. I won’t say anything now, not in front of the kids. I won’t risk another scene. But I know. I will press charges. Starting today.
There’s a knock on the door.
“You okay, Lana?” says Alec firmly, his gaze locked on Ben.
I nod, realizing I must look flushed and tense, eyes watery.
“Time to go,” he orders Ben, and I’m grateful for it.
Ben straightens, grabbing his coat with stiff fingers.
He doesn’t say a word and storms out. I follow him to the kitchen, where Nancy is cooking while the kids are still coloring at the island.
“Everything alright?” asks Nancy, giving me a worried look, probably from the yelling they must have heard behind the door. I smile at her, wide and genuine, and kiss my son's hair.
“Everything’s right where it needs to be,” I say, nodding at her. She grins back with understanding, her shoulders relaxing.
“Noah, your father’s leaving,” I declare, because there’s no world in which I’m letting this abuser get away with my son after what he just threatened. He’ll have to talk to my lawyer the next time he wants to see any of us.
“Already?” says Noah, his eyes darting between me and his father. Then a smile spreads across his face. “Mom, can I go with Chloe and Ava to the park?” I sigh, relieved he only sees the bright side of it.
“Of course, honey,” I reply, my whole being focused on being a human shield for my boy.
“I—” Ben tries, but I cut him off.
“Goodbye, Ben.” I let Alec walk him out.
Nancy shoots daggers at him while I turn my back on him.
He’ll never get one more second of my attention.
Once he’s gone, my shoulders lower. I was right, something significant happened today.
The vibration in my pocket pulls me out of my thoughts, and I bite my lip at the name appearing on my screen. I take the call in the living room.
“Hey,” I murmur.
“Hey, sweetness,” Carter’s voice answers, warming me up instantly.
“Are you free?” I cross my fingers. It’s Saturday, and unless Mia has an event, he usually is.
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now,” I say, not apologizing for wanting to see him.
“Where are you?” he asks, and I hear the sound of keys in the background, making me smile.
“I’ll be home in three minutes,” I say, excited.
“I’m on my way.” He chuckles, and I grin like a giddy girl. I stood up for myself today, but there’s one more thing I need to overcome.
And it’s about time I take this step.
CARTER
I didn’t expect to hear the voice of an angel today but when I did, I got on my bike faster than I have ever done.
Lana sounded different on the phone. Happier, unapologetically herself.
I wonder what happened for her to have this switch but I’m glad it did.
The door opens and she runs to me as I get off my bike, and removes my helmet, fast enough for her to take my shirt in her fist, get on her tiptoes and kiss me like I'm her oxygen.
I kiss her back, without helping myself to grin a bit ‘cause damn, I missed her even if I saw her yesterday.
“Come in,” she murmurs before kissing me again. She takes my large palm in her little hand and tugs me to her home.
“You seem happy,” I comment, suddenly wondering if there’s something I’m missing.
Should I have brought something? Flowers, maybe.
Chocolates. A gift. Damn it. I should’ve stopped at the flower shop on the way here.
Ash always says women love flowers, why was I in such a hurry to get here that I didn’t even think of it?
I was so focused on seeing her, I just drove straight over like an idiot.
Next time, I won’t forget. Flowers, pastries, whatever she likes. Anything that could make her smile.
She goes straight to the kitchen cupboard to take out mugs on her tiptoes, but I step forward and grab them for her.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
“Coffee?” I nod, studying my girl and enjoying being in her place.
I’ve been avoiding my flat more and more lately.
Feels too empty and grey in there. I’d rather be at the club.
Well, I actually would prefer being here with Lana, but I can’t say that out loud.
Dr. Parks did tell me to calm the fuck down, to not scare her.
I mean, he said to take my time and not initiate commitment without sensing her obvious enthusiasm, his words, not mine.
I remove my cut and put it on the back of the diner chair then stands in the kitchen while she pours coffee in two mugs.
One with a cat licking a chocolate cake and one with “best mom in the world” printed on.
Must be a gift Noah made at school. My mugs at home are all plain grey.
“Couch?” she asks and I follow her as she sits legs folded under her thighs, her little white socks peeking out from under her black jeans. I join her, my left hand instinctively resting on her knee while the other holds the cat mug.
“You’re never dressed in black,” I notice, watching her perfect silhouette under the black turtleneck and jeans. She’s beautiful nonetheless but it’s not really…her. I’m wearing my usual all black shirt outfit with jeans but it’s different, she always sees me wearing this.