Chapter Six #2
“But… I’m not,” I whispered sadly, because it sounded like something I really wanted to be. Part of a family who actually cared. Part of something bigger than me. Bigger than Sean. Something safe and warm. Loving even.
“You’re important to Henley, and he’s a club brother. That’s how it works, babe. Besides, I like you, and I love talking to people I like.”
“How can you like me? I’m not sure I’m even a complete person anymore. I’m… I’m what’s left after he… and besides, I’m not sure H… Nate will want me here very long. I’m in the way. I’m a burden on him.”
Lissa smiled gently, patting my hand.
“He definitely doesn’t see it that way. I hear, the day you called, he dropped everything and ran.
One of his brothers, Rocket, went with him to support.
That’s how this family works. Can you just try for me?
Try to let him learn how to know this version of you, the version that I’m going to call the ‘temporary version’ because you’ll get back the things you lost. It just takes time.
He might mess up, but he means well. And I’ll talk to you as often as you like.
I can come here as often as you like, if you prefer that to video chats.
There’s no shame in accepting help, Glory.
Whatever you’ve been led to believe about yourself, you’re not a burden.
You’re not hard work. You’re not difficult.
You’re a sweet person who deserves to be cared for. Let us care?”
Tears were burning my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back any longer, feeling pathetic and weak for letting them out. Sean hated my tears, unless they happened while he was beating on me. Then he relished them.
“It’s okay, babe. Can I hug you? You can let it all out, I promise.
” I nodded feebly, and she moved closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as I covered my face and sobbed like a baby.
That’s what he called me if I cried. A baby.
Pathetic. Weak. It was no wonder he had to correct my behaviour. I was an embarrassment.
“Whatever things he filled your head with, start telling yourself this. He lied. He was wrong. He didn’t know the real you. Okay? He lied, babe. You’re not anything other than beautiful and strong, I promise.”
Strong? I definitely didn’t feel that way at all, and beautiful? No. He’d been clear on that. He’d done me a favour by marrying me, because nobody else ever would.
“It’s okay, just breathe, babe. Let it out, but breathe. He lied. He was wrong.”
I sensed rather than heard the approach of other people. Nate, and Lissa’s man. I felt so much shame for them seeing me in such a mess. That was what I did. I made a mess.
“He lied, Gloria. Can you say that for me?”
I shook my head. I wanted to, but I didn’t believe it yet. Maybe wouldn’t ever believe it.
“That’s okay. I’ll keep saying it for you. He lied. He was wrong. Let’s add another one. He wasn’t a man. Men don’t treat women the way he treated you.”
“Fucking hell,” I heard Nate murmur, “I just want to fucking hold her too.”
“Remember, your feelings are irrelevant, brother.”
I leaned my head into Lissa’s shoulder and shuddered, trying to breathe as I hiccupped and tears kept falling.
She stroked my hair gently, murmuring to me the whole time.
“It’s okay. This is good. You need to let it out. He lied, babe. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
Ifelt raw after she left, like I’d broken myself open and shown her parts of me that nobody should see. Like I’d shown her the worst parts, the parts I should be ashamed of.
Nate set a mug in front of me, and the scent of hot chocolate reached me, the first thing I’d been able to smell since crying like a baby for about an hour. Lissa and Ice had left about ten minutes ago, with a promise for her to call me tomorrow to chat.
“Are you cold?” When I looked up, Nate was holding a snuggly looking fleece blanket in his arms, so I nodded and he set it beside me on the sofa. I tucked it over my lap and snuggled into the nest of cushions in the corner of the sofa.
He sat down on the other leather sofa, the smaller one that sat at the end of the corner piece of this sofa, cradling a mug of his own.
“Want to watch something?” He pointed at the TV and I shrugged, so he picked up the remote and flicked it on, waiting for the system to wake up.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered while we waited, and he offered me a soft smile.
“Nothing to apologise for. I mean, unless you’re going to veto everything, and we end up watching two seconds of everything.”
Ha. That reminded me of so many TV sessions together, and I felt a flicker of warmth inside at the memory. I liked memories that didn’t make me feel like a failure.
“Remember how many times we watched Empire Records?” I asked quietly, and he laughed.
“His name’s not fucking Warren,” he quoted, flicking to the list of movies, “Oh. They have it. You want to?” Suddenly that’s all I wanted. A familiar movie I haven’t seen in years, and to forget all my worries.
“God, yes.”
He grinned, selecting the movie and groaning as the enforced ad played before it.
“Do you normally sit over here?” I asked, since I had a much better angle for the TV than he did.
“I’m easy.”
“Nate, if you normally sit on this sofa, just do it. I won’t break.”
“I know.” He got up, grabbing his drink and the remote, and sat a seat away from me on the sofa, so I unfolded the blanket I’d layered up on my lap, offering half to him. He grinned and tucked it over his lap, which it barely reached, but maybe he appreciated the gesture.