1. Lydia #2
More importantly, I know that if I look at this text, then there’s an almost 100 percent chance that I’ll have to leave before the post-wedding brunch in the morning.
But still… If this is what it takes for me not to have to spend another minute in the presence of Nico D’Ambrosio, then maybe Bella will forgive me.
So, despite a little voice in my head telling me not to do this, I unlock my phone, open the message, and feel my heart drop away the moment I read it.
I need help, baby. Please.
“What about you, Mom?” I asked once we hurried down the stairs with the second step that always creaked whenever anyone stepped on it.
“I’ll be fine, Lyddie.” My mother Bianca spared a nervous glance back into the house, lying. “Don’t worry about me.”
Three years of being Frank’s wife had left her with a permanent sense of paranoia. The copious amounts of drugs that she’d been taking on a regular basis to cope with the abuses ever since their wedding night didn’t help either.
One night after another, I’d come down the stairs to find her trembling on the floor of the bathroom, her lip split open and her hair plastered to the side of her face. I’d kneel over her with a wet washcloth, gather her up against my chest, and hold her while she soaked my shirt with her tears.
The worst were nights when Frank would bring his friends over.
On those nights, I’d find her curled up by the toilet, vomit clinging to her lips as she did her best to sob in silence. Whenever I tried to help her on those nights, she would push me away, like somehow she might dirty me in the process if I touched her.
But tonight, she wasn’t high.
There was a clarity in her eyes I hadn’t seen since the day we found out that Dad died.
“I can’t just leave you here with him!” I turned around once we made it to the door. “I won’t!”
“You have to.” Desperation bled into her voice as she glanced back into the empty house again, lowering her voice like Frank might materialize out of the darkness if she spoke too loudly. “He’s going to hurt you, baby. He’ll hurt you the way he hurt me and I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Mom…” Tears started blurring my vision, and she reached up to wipe them away.
“Be brave, baby.” She sniffled. “Be brave for me, okay? Be brave and leave and never come back.”
“I won’t leave you, Mom.” I pleaded. “You can come with me!”
“I can’t, baby.” She smiled sadly and turned her arm over to show me the slight bump in her wrist where Frank implanted a tracking microchip a year ago. “You know he’ll find me as soon as I leave, baby. And if I go with you, he’ll find you too.”
“But he’s going to hurt you when he finds that I’m gone.”
“That’s alright.” She wrapped me up in a bear hug, and buried her face in the crook of my neck as she planted one fierce kiss after another on my cheek. “I’ll be alright.”
“No, you won’t, Mom.” Tears were running down my face now. “You know you won’t be.”
“Yes I will, Lyddie.” She finally pulled away, her thumbs brushing away my tears as fast as they were falling. “As long as I know that he won’t find you, then I will be alright. Now go. Go before he comes home.”
I remained standing in place, refusing to believe that this was really happening. But Mom continued wiping away my tears, and continued to look at me with pleading eyes. Slowly, I nodded once, and then threw myself in her arms for one last hug, not knowing if I’d ever feel it again.
She squeezed me as hard as she could, and there was a part of me that suspected she was doing the same thing as me: memorizing this moment so that she could replay it in whatever hell Frank was about to inflict on her when he came home.
When we finally broke apart, she was crying too.
“I’ll come back and save you from him, Mom.” I balled my fingers into a fist around the strap of the duffel bag. “I swear it.”
Seven years later, and I’m no closer to saving her than I did as a scared seventeen-year-old running away from a house full of monsters. I blink and stare up at the ceiling as tears fall hot and fast from my eyes, not bothering to reach up and wipe them away.
A soft gentle knock comes at my door, and I sniffle once before I manage to choke out. “Come in.”
The door opens and Bella walks in, looking radiant and beautiful in her wedding dress. Worry lines her face the moment she sees my tears.
“Are you okay?” She sits down next to me and takes my hand.
I force myself to breathe, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t fight back the stinging tears stabbing me in the back of my throat. Stop it! Stop it! You can’t cry on the day of Bella’s wedding. You can’t ruin this day for her!
Finally, I manage to choke out in a quivering voice that cracks with every other word. “I need to go home, Bella.”
“Why?” A protective tenor slithers into her voice and her grip around my hand tightens. “What did Nico say to you?”
I manage to let a small, mirthless laugh tumble out of my lips. “No, it’s got nothing to do with him.”
Even though he’s the reason why I read the text in the first place. But it does nobody any good to say that part out loud.
“Then why do you need to leave? Lydia, please just talk to me.”
I’ve never told Bella the full story of that night when I left, nor have I ever told her about what I escaped. She knew better than to ask over the years, but I think she always kind of had an idea of what happened.
I purse my lips into a line and rack my brains to find the simplest possible explanation that won’t have me dumping out years of trauma on my best friend.
I settle on the simplest possible rendition. “My mom needs my help.”
“Your mom?”
I nod. “That’s why I need to go home. And I know that there’s still the brunch tomorrow morning, and I feel terrible–”
“Don’t.” She cuts me off as she wraps me up in a bear hug, whispering. “Don’t you dare tell me that you feel terrible for skipping brunch tomorrow when your mom needs your help.”
“But I’m the maid of honor,” I whisper into her hair. “I have responsibilities.”
“The only responsibility you have right now, Lydia,” she replies, “is to go home and help your mom. You don’t have to worry about tomorrow. It’s just brunch.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” She pulls back and I see tears shimmering in her eyes. “Hell no, I’m not mad. Lydia, the only thing I want to do is help figure out what you need to do next. Need me to book you a flight? Call a car? Do both?”
“Both would be nice.” My heart swells with immense love for my best friend. “Thanks, Bella.”
“Don’t mention it,” she reaches inside of her dress at the secret pockets that have been sewn into the train, pulls out her phone, and starts tapping. “I can get you on a flight from Nice C?te d'Azur leaving in three hours, and then a first-class ticket out of Charles de Gaulle leaving tonight.”
“You don’t have to get me a first-class ticket, Bella.” I start protesting.
“Nonsense.” She waves her hand. “What’s the point of marrying a billionaire Bratva pakhan if I’m not willing to spend a few thousands getting my best friend home in comfort?”
I can’t help but laugh a little at that. “I guess as long as Slava is paying.”
“Done.” She finally looks up at me. “I’ll go talk to the staff, and get you in a car in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, Bella,” I say. “I’ll find a way to pay you back, I promise.”
“You don’t have to pay anything back,” she says. “Just promise me one thing, Lydia.”
“Anything.”
She steps in and wraps me up in a hug that reminds me of another hug from seven years ago. “Promise me you’ll be safe, okay?”
“You know me,” I reply weakly. “I’d never do anything risky.”
“I mean it, Lydia.” She pulls back and looks at me with sincere worry in her eyes. “You walked out of that house seven years ago and never once looked back until now. Whatever it is that’s making you go back can’t be good, and both me and Slava are going to be an ocean away if you need help.”
“I know.”
“So please.” She reaches up and wipes away the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. “Please stay safe, and if there’s anything I can do before you go, let me know.”
I nod one more time, and then I tell her. “Actually, there is one more thing you can do for me.”
“Name it.”
“Don’t tell Nico.”