Chapter 33
It’s the morning of Thanksgiving and after I, reluctantly, left the warm embrace of Charlie’s arms, I drove to my house to find something to wear to his family’s dinner later. Charlie tried to entice me to stay in bed and I was tempted, but I also realized I didn’t bring any “nice” clothes over because I figured I wouldn’t need them.
So, with a promise of doing whatever he wants later, he let me leave. The most surprising thing to me was that his behavior didn’t make me feel suffocated or anything I normally would. I liked it. I felt wanted and I didn’t want to part from him either, which is really the kicker.
Plus, there’s the whole sex situation last night after the game.
I’ve never had sex like that. And if I’m really being honest with myself, it wasn’t just sex. That was making love. Because I’m falling in L word with him. And I think he might be too.
Or I’m already there. Fuck if I know how it feels, but I’m happy. Borderline giddy when I had to fight Charlie’s hold one more time before leaving because he lured me in with a kiss and then tried to keep it going.
I vow to get in and out of my house quickly and stepping inside again really has me thinking more about selling and moving into something else. Even though I bought this as an investment, I know I’ll take a massive loss due to the electrical issues, but at this point I kind of don’t care.
It’s a weird feeling being so detached to somewhere I’ve lived for so long and have mostly positive memories in. But nothing has me wanting to hang on either.
Upstairs, I survey my closet to find something nice and appropriate to wear, I pull out a couple dress options, laying them on my bed and debating. I don’t feel like trying different things on because it’s fucking freezing in here and I want to leave.
I settle on a maroon sweater dress, some black tights, and black ankle boots. As I’m bringing my selection downstairs there’s a knock at the door. I stop in my tracks because I’m definitely not expecting anyone here.
A chill runs down my spine and it doesn’t have anything to do with the temperature in here.
Another knock.
I approach the door slowly, trying not to make a noise they could possibly hear, and when I look through the peephole and see who it is, the eerie feeling I have makes complete sense.
“Audrey, I know you’re home,” her shrill voice rings out and I step back from the door, like the distance helps. “Honestly, child, just open the door.”
I steel my spine, hearing her call me “child” again is what does me in. I toss the clothes in my hand onto the couch and open the door. My grandma is standing there, high and mighty as always with her hands clasped behind her back like they always were. Until she needed them for a punishment.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap.
She sighs her disappointment, “Honestly, Audrey, your language is foul.”
“I don’t give a shit. Why are you here?”
“I have tried to come by a few times, but you are never home.”
I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms across my chest. “Yeah, you know I’m pretty busy doing whatever and whoever the fuck I want. Can’t always be home.”
“Your language is deplorable, child. Which is why I’m here. You haven’t responded to my letters, and I just knew you are down the wrong path and need help.”
“No, I’m good. I’ve been good. I’ve been great. I don’t need you and never have. Leave.”
Ignoring my command, “Since you haven’t been responding to my letters, I’ve come to invite you to Thanksgiving. We are having several members of the church there. I think it would be beneficial for you to come. Maybe spend at least one holiday with your family.”
I bark out a loud laugh. “Family? You don’t know what it’s like to be a family. I’ve made my own and it doesn’t include you or anyone from church. So, I’ll pass, I hope you fall and break a hip, bye.”
As I try to shut the door, her hand shoots out, stopping it. I’ve always hated that my grandma isn’t some frail old lady. No, she had my dad young and then he was young when I was born so she’s in her early sixties and fairly fit. Probably from all the young souls she steals.
“You can still ask for forgiveness. I know you’ve been sinning since leaving my home. Frankly, you’ve been sinning your entire life, but God will forgive you, all you have to do is repent and ask for Him to forgive. You can still be saved, child.”
“Oh? That’s it?” I slap my hands together like I’m praying and look up toward the ceiling, “I’m so sorry, Daddy, I’ve been a bad girl and I need to be punished.”
“You are such a sorry excuse of a girl. Have you no decency? I know you’re out here whoring around as you always have, but I’m trying to help you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do for you.”
“Oh, was that not right? Maybe I should ask him from my knees? All men like a woman on their knees for them.”
“You are horrid, child. You’ve always been a slut, even the day you came to my home. Acting all innocent, but you asked for what happened to you. You tempted it. Just like you always have.”
My jaw drops. “I asked to be abused? You think I wanted what happened to me?”
“Of course. I raised your father, and I know your whore of a mother took the goodness out of him. Drained him of every value I taught him, then you came along and tempted him too much because that’s just who you are and who you’ll always be. A whore.”
I ball my fists. I’m not a violent person, but I’m about to be.
“Get the fuck out. Don’t ever contact me again. Don’t try to talk to me again. Don’t even fucking think about me again.”
“You’re overreacting, this isn’t something new to you.”
“Get the fuck out! I’m going to call the cops unless you leave my property right this fucking second, you bitch!”
Her hand flies to her chest with her gasp and I take the opportunity to slam the door in her face with so much force the wall shakes. I instantly turn the deadbolt and turn around, leaning against the door. I can hear her spewing more hate, but I tune it all out just like I used to. I close my eyes as the memories assault me, and I do every single coping skill I’ve learned over the years to push them away.
Eventually, my heart rate slows and my breathing evens out. I’m numb to what happened, and I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, but I know I need to get back to Charlie. The last thing I want to do is be around his family and pretend that I’m okay when I’m not.
But on the other hand, the one thing I do want right now is to be with him.
So, with that, I grab the clothes I threw onto the couch, check to make sure the wicked witch of Denver is gone, before leaving to get into my car.
I walk into the condo feeling like a zombie but trying my best to hide it. Charlie greets me, and the way he looks at me lets me know that I’m not doing a great job at it.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, approaching me.
“Nothing,” I lie and fake a smile.
He furrows his eyebrows, clearly still not believing me.
“I’m going to get ready, when did you want to leave?” I ask.
“We can leave whenever you want, if you still want to go because we really don’t have to,” I can hear the concern in his voice.
I press a chaste kiss on his lips to try and convince us both that I’m okay. “I want to go; I should be ready in about an hour.”
“Okay,” he replied, skeptically.
I try one more time to convince him with a smile before going into my bathroom. Once I’m inside I drop the fa?ade and look at myself in the mirror to see what I used to see when I was stuck in the house of horrors. A broken-down little girl.
Turning on the shower, I wait until it starts before I finally let the tears start to fall. I recite affirmations to myself in the mirror through the tears.
I am enough.
I am not my past.
I am strong.
I am not a victim, I”m a survivor.