Chapter 22
Humility was a motherfucker. Charlie stood on her father’s doorstep, too nervous to ring the doorbell as she replayed her last encounter with him over again in her mind.
“Your key still works, Charlize.”
Her father’s voice oozed through the Ring camera and she looked up at it.
“Can we talk, Daddy?” she asked.
“Yeah, come on in,” he replied.
At least I’m welcome, she thought as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door.
She never thought she would be here. Begging for forgiveness. Her pride was too big, but her desperation was greater. She had nowhere to go. Her old place had been leased to someone else, she had no money, no job, and no plan.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, but her nods quickly transformed to her head moving left to right.
She wasn’t okay. She didn’t know if she would ever be “okay” again.
Charlie ran into her father’s arms. She bawled as he hugged her.
She couldn’t remember the last time he had done this, been her haven, and held her close.
“I miss Mommy,” she wailed. She didn’t know where it had come from. That wasn’t the reason for her tears. Or was it? Was everything she had been through with men a reflection of the love she had lost when her mother had died? Charlie had never been lonelier than she was in this moment.
“I know you do, Charlize.”
“I need a place to stay,” she said. “I won’t make it long. I just need a little help while I figure out what I want to do with my life.”
Charlie felt him pull back and he walked to the sofa and took a seat.
“You’re at a point in your life, Charlize, where you have to figure things out on your own,” he said.
“If I could do that, do you think I’d be here, Daddy? I’m asking you for help because I need it, not because I want to. I need my father. I don’t have any other options.”
Charlie knew it sounded a lot like begging and she hated herself for it.
“I have a family. You can’t just run in and out when I have a wife to look after. It’s disruptive to my marriage. It makes things hard.”
The audacity. The motherfucking audacity. Charlie might as well have been breathing flames.
“And what am I, Daddy?” she asked.
The fact that he disassociated her from his notion of family hurt so badly that Charlie couldn’t stomach it.
She felt sick. Word vomit was coming up and it burned the back of her throat as her eyes prickled.
Rejection from men was one thing, but rejection from the man responsible for her existence made her feel worthless.
No wonder she put up with bullshit from niggas.
How could she hold men up to a standard of care when her father never cared for her at all?
She had no one to measure love up to. No example had been set.
“You’re a grown woman, Charlie,” he answered.
“But what about the little girl? Huh? What about the little girl that came to live with you when her mother died? You’ve treated me like a stepchild ever since!” Charlie screamed.
“My wife...”
“Stole you from my mother!” Charlie interrupted his praise of his precious wife. “She stole my childhood, and you idolize that bitch! If it wasn’t for Stassi, this house would have been miserable! Come on, Daddy! For once! I’m asking you! Choose your child!”
Major cleared the discomfort from his throat. “If it was as bad as you say here, I wouldn’t expect you to ever want to come back,” he said.
At that exact moment, Charlie knew they weren’t alone.
Her stepmother’s Elizabeth Diamond perfume had sickened her for many years and today was no different.
The sound of Stassi and her mom filled the home as they came waltzing through the front door.
Their mother and daughter Sunday ritual.
Shopping. Lunch. Just the two of them. It was a trip that Charlie was always excluded from, even when Stassi begged her mom to include her when they were kids.
Charlie scoffed. She shook her head. “I don’t know why I even came here,” she whispered. Disappointment was oozing from her soul. Nobody would ever have the power to hurt her like this man. “Bye, Daddy.”
She stormed out and Stassi followed her.
“Charlie, wait!” she shouted.
Charlie couldn’t wait. If she stayed there another moment longer, she would lose it.
“What did I ever do to them?!” she shouted. “And you!” Charlie shook her head. “Nobody in this fucking house ever loved me. I’ve always been an outsider.”
“That’s not true, Charlie,” Stassi replied. “What would you have done? Huh? If it were me? How would you have looked me in my eyes and broken my heart?”
Charlie recoiled, stunned like she hadn’t thought of how hard it might be for Lauren to be the one to break it to her.
“You should have told me,” Charlie said, adamantly. “How could you work with her?”
“She’s not a bad person, Charlie,” Stassi said.
“I know you probably want to believe she is, but she isn’t.
It was selfish to not tell you, but I just didn’t know what to do or how to handle it or even if you and Demi would last. If I could go back.
..” Stassi stopped talking. “You need somewhere to stay?”
Charlie hated to need her, but she was in no position to be stubborn. She nodded. “I gave up everything for him.”
“Come on. Let’s go to my place. You can stay in my spare bedroom,” Stassi said.
Charlie nodded. “I’ll pay you back. I’ll get a job and pay my way. I swear.”
“From where I’m standing, I kind of owe you,” Stassi said.
Charlie scoffed. “Yeah, bitch, you do. Your ass should be paying me rent. Emotional fucking rent.”
“Forgive me?” Stassi asked.
Charlie nodded as Stassi pulled her apartment key off her key ring and handed it over. “I’ll be there later. I have to be somewhere but make yourself at home.”
Charlie sat in front of the camera on the floor of Stassi’s guest bedroom.
The solitude was loud. The pain was screaming, and Charlie needed an outlet.
Her YouTube channel was private so it wouldn’t matter if she uploaded her emotions tonight.
She only had a few followers. People she knew. No way would he see it.
She just needed to let this feeling out. She was suffocating and music was oxygen.
She streamed live for two hours, playing, and singing until she felt like she was drained until she had nothing else to feel. She didn’t even say a word, she just clicked off the camera, ending the video for the one viewer who had sat there, listening until the end.
The knock at the door terrified her. She jumped at the unexpected interruption and crawled to her feet as she made her way through the darkened apartment. She flipped on every light in Stassi’s house as she made her way to the door.
She pulled it open and when she saw Demi an invisible hand wrapped around her throat. She took a step back.
Terror replaced shock as she put a little more distance between them. It felt like miles to Demi. The gap. How desperately he wanted to close the space.
“Don’t be scared of me, Bird,” Demi said. He took a step toward her and she took a step back. She was bracing herself. Hands subtly lifting to defend herself.
Like I’ma hit her, Demi thought. He was crushed, destroyed under her presumptions that he would bring her harm.
“Demi, please leave,” Charlie said, her voice unstable, barely making it across the threshold of her lips.
Her reaction to his presence injured him. His eyes took in her trembling hands and her wide eyes and his stomach knotted. He saw the evidence of what he had done. Because he loved her, it was all over her. Subtle scratches. Bruises where he had grabbed her. Manhandled her.
I took this shit too far, he thought.
He had hurt her, and now witnessing the damage, he was remorseful in her debt. He just wanted to pay the debt. All her debts. In whatever ways she made him settle up, he was willing to.
“Leaveeee!” Charlie yelled.
EXCEPT THAT WAY. He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t going to leave. He had watched her sing online for hours. He had practically bribed Stassi’s address out of Day. Leaving was the last thing he would oblige.
She picked up the Aloe plant that sat on the kitchen island and threw it at him.
“Bird,” Demi said. He took a step toward her and she took a step back.
“Demi, please leave,” Charlie said, her voice unstable, barely making it across the threshold of her lips.
Her wounds had physically healed. The bruises were visibly gone. The scratches had disappeared, but he saw evidence of her pain all over her.
“Leaveeee!” Charlie yelled as she reached for the aloe plant that sat on the kitchen island and threw it at him. Demi narrowly dodged the vase, leaving the wall to receive the blow.
“Fuck, Bird!!” Demi’s bark was loud enough to shrink her. She had seen a side of him that was volatile, a side that was menacing, and he could see her anticipating abuse. Would he hit her again? Would he lose control? He had come to her to deliver an apology, but it was going terribly wrong.
“Just get out! I didn’t say anything to the police.
I didn’t press charges; Justin isn’t going to press charges!
Just leave!” Charlie shouted. She was hyperventilating, she was so shaken, and Demi wanted to soothe her.
He wanted to undo everything he had done but hearing Justin’s name on her tongue reignited a blaze in him.
“Fuck you talking bout? You speaking for that nigga now? You still fucking that nigga, Bird?” He didn’t give a fuck about space.
Didn’t give a fuck that she was like a deer in headlights.
He cornered her, digging his finger into her forehead.
“You fucking that nigga? He dropping charges for you now?” He was irrational.
Jealous. His hand was around her throat and she was withering beneath his hold.
He wanted to get control of himself but he couldn’t.
The thought of her with another man drove him mad.