Chapter 8 Sera #2
“White trash.” She spits. “I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn who your real father is.
A disgusting, vulgar man who makes his living beating people.
” Her chin shakes with outrage. “The police might not be able to prove you were behind the assault on my son, even though it was obvious. But blood will out, won’t it? Solve your problems with violence.”
“That’s your son’s MO, not mine.” The words are out before I can stop them. “Your precious son is a monster, and you can’t admit it even to yourself. He did this.” I yank my hair back and gesture at the scars on my face.
“Because I wouldn’t give him what he wanted. So, if you want to throw accusations about parenting around, maybe you should look at your own.”
Joelle’s eyes dilate, the only sign my words have found a target. Her gaze narrows as she takes me in, and I instantly regret my outburst.
“Look at you.” She shakes her head in disgust. “You’ve been in another fight… are you going to blame that on my son, too?”
I grit my teeth.
“You’ve done something to him, or you’ve made him too afraid to come home.” Her voice breaks, and part of the icy shield around my heart does, too.
“All I get are emails… He hasn’t called me in over a year.
Do you know what that does to a mother? I’ve begged him to come back, but he only writes, ‘I can’t.
’ It’s you.” Her voice rises again. “He can’t come home because he’s afraid you’ll accuse him of something.
Or that your degenerate brother will hurt him. ”
I stay silent. She’s not wrong. Aaron is never coming home.
I don’t know the details of what Brady and Vincent did.
I didn’t ask, and they wouldn’t have told me anyway, but I know they’ve been behind the ruse of making Aaron’s family believe he’s still alive and traveling the globe.
Maybe it’s cruel, but they did it to protect me the same way this woman lied to cover for her son after he threw acid in my face.
Emotion rises in my throat. “I can’t give you what you want. I don’t know where he is.”
That’s the truth.
“You took him from me.”
“And he took something from me!” The words come out so clear I’m momentarily stunned.
I stand taller. “For months before our relationship ended. Piece by piece. And then the months he terrorized me, while you covered for him, before ultimately throwing that acid. You understand he meant to kill me, right? It was sheer luck I didn’t take the acid straight to my face. ”
I shiver thinking about the conversation I overheard when Brady and the doctor thought that I was sleeping. The doctor had explained to my brother how fortunate I was.
If the acid had struck me as Aaron intended it would have gone in my mouth or up my nose causing damage to the tissue and making it swell. I would have suffocated. The exact words the surgeon used are seared into my brain: “gruesome death.”
I force myself back to the present. “But that’s over.” I harden my expression. “I’m done letting your son and your family take from me. Stay away. Don’t call, don’t email and never… ever touch me again. Or maybe I will ask my degenerate brother to help me.”
Joelle’s eyes flick to the raised phones around us recording the confrontation. Her breath shudders, and her eyes gloss. She blinks hard but then resets her jaw.
“You wanted him, and when he didn’t want you anymore, you made up stories and ruined his life.” She swallows. The line of her throat works as her fingers whiten on the purse strap. “You’ll get what’s coming.”
My lungs pull in the crisp air as I watch her stalk away, and for the first time in a long time I feel like… me.
I don’t say a word the entire ride to my therapist’s office, where we hold the group sessions, but I can feel Hannah’s gaze return over and over to my profile.
The second Dr. Swan asks if anyone feels like sharing, for the very first time, I tell my story. The entire story.
I describe how the beginning of our relationship was magical. Aaron was everything I thought I wanted. He was sweet and funny and accomplished, with a respectable executive position at his family’s commercial construction firm.
In hindsight, I recognize the love bombing, the too-fast I love you, the discussion of babies and marriage. But the picture he painted was so seductive to a girl like me. The girl no one had ever chosen first.
My mom had been a teenager when she got pregnant with Brady.
Ray had been even younger and on the cusp of his professional boxing career.
Someone decided… probably a manager… It would be best if my mom and Brady were kept a secret so the press wouldn’t bother them.
My mother worshipped Ray, would have done and promised anything, just for the rare times he came to visit.
I was conceived on one of those occasions.
Twelve years older, Brady wove a lovely fairytale for me when I was little about my less than auspicious beginnings.
He told me that our dad was so excited when he found out our mom was pregnant with me, he actually stayed the entire summer.
I realize now the timeline also corresponds with when Ray realized Brady shared his athletic talent.
He didn’t stay for me.
Ray bounced in and out of our lives over the next decades.
He provided for us more and more financially, as we got older and he became famous, but he was never a parent.
Never claimed us. My heart broke whenever I saw an interview where he was asked about settling down and he would laugh and say, “Never.”
I hated that it bothered me.
If he didn’t want my mom, that’s one thing.
But what about his kids? I was a girl, and he didn’t know what to do with me.
I tried to be tough, be more like Brady when he was around, but Ray would always just awkwardly pat me on the head and tell me to go back in the house while he trained Brady in the gym he’d built in the garage for Brady.
My mother loved me in her way, but Ray was her priority until the day she died. I know Brady loves me, but it’s not the same. He had to. Someone had to take care of me, and he was the only one left.
My heart aches as I admit to the wide-eyed faces that I’d confided all of this to Aaron, only to have him use it to hurt me. I’d handed him the weapons to destroy my self-worth and later, he used my insecurities to cut me down.
I didn’t even realize what was happening at first. I might not have recognized what was happening, but Brady did. He noticed I’d become quiet, more subdued. Smaller. Despite that, I didn’t associate it with Aaron. I didn’t want to admit my Prince Charming wasn’t as shiny as I’d bragged.
It wasn’t until Aaron began getting more aggressive.
Suddenly, if I disagreed with him, I was picking a fight.
If we spent time with his family and I laughed, he accused me of flirting with his brother…
But I put up with it. Dr. Swan says it’s because I have no idea what a normal relationship looks like.
It’s practically in my DNA to allow a man to take what he wants from me. It’s what I’ve learned from my mother.
And then there was the night that changed everything.
“We missed the reservation,” I say the second Aaron lets himself into my condo. I’m ticked. I wouldn’t normally care about something like a reservation, but I’d left work early because Aaron had made such a big deal about this restaurant where he’d gotten us a table.
“Don’t start.” Aaron drops his keys on the counter harder than necessary, the metallic clatter sharp.
“Why didn’t you call?” I persist because this shit has been happening too often lately.
“I was busy.”
“Too busy to even text? I left work early for this.”
He stares at me wordlessly, before heading to the refrigerator to pull out a beer. “My job is a little more important than trying to get pictures of cheating husbands, Sera.”
“That’s not what I do, and you know it.”
He scoffs. “Sure. Groundbreaking investigative work. Got it.”
My stomach knots. What happened to us? “You could have texted. That’s all I’m saying.”
His jaw tightens. “You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.
There are expectations I have to meet you can’t possibly understand.
Do you have any idea how much money I deal with every day?
My family has a legacy in this city. I will not be the one who lets them down when my girlfriend is having a temper tantrum because I’m home late for dinner. ”
There it is.
His family. Their money. Their name.
He tilts his head, eyes sharp. “I know you don’t get it. I mean… how could you? You don’t even have a family. It’s just you and your brother.” His lip curls. “And he’s not exactly a pillar of society, is he? An ex-cop, pretending to be Jason Bourne.” He chuckles, taking a swig of his beer.
The words dig deep, straight into old wounds, but it’s his words about Brady that make something hot flare in my chest.
“Right,” I say lightly. “Guess I should just be thankful you bothered to show up at all.”
His expression hardens, and he lifts a finger away from the bottle to point at me. “Don’t be a bitch, Sera. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m not being a bitch,” I shoot back, my temper igniting. “You’re being an asshole.”
His face changes, from something familiar to a stranger.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he sneers, “to talk to me like that?”
My pulse spikes. “Someone who expects the bare minimum from her boyfriend.”
“Bare minimum. Are you joking? After everything I’ve done for you. You were nothing until I found you.”
My stomach drops, a cold hollow opening beneath my ribs.
“I don’t complain when you talk about your little job in front of my family or our friends even though I see the looks on their faces,” he continues, stepping closer, face contorted. “The least you can do is show me the respect I’m owed.”
I bark out a humorless laugh.
What the fuck is actually happening right now?