33. Zoey
ZOEY
I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could, but I couldn’t erase the terrible images burned into my mind.
George’s cold smirk as he shoved Ro into the car.
My baby’s terrified face in the rear window as they sped away.
My legs collapsing under me as I sank to the pavement, an anguished scream tearing out of my throat.
Helpless despair consumed me, pressing on my chest as I lay tangled in the bedsheets. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes onto the pillow. I sucked in a shuddering breath and sat up slowly, raking my fingers through my messy black hair.
“It’s not your fault. Noah doesn’t blame you, honey. None of this is on you. Only your dad is responsible for the bad things he does.” Those were the words I’d told Ro when he’d sobbed and raged that George had hurt Noah because of him.
I had meant every word. But convincing my sweet, sensitive boy of that was so much easier than silencing my relentless inner voice, the one that whispered I had brought this upon us. That I had ruined everything by trying to escape my past.
I shook my head hard, digging my nails into my palms. No. I couldn’t let George warp my thoughts again and twist everything until I doubted my own mind.
Bile rose in my throat as a vivid memory forced its way to the surface.
George’s associates leering at me from across the dinner table, their shark-like gazes roving over my body as if I were a piece of meat.
The clammy hand on my knee under the tablecloth, sliding higher as I sat frozen in disbelief.
“I need to powder my nose,” I’d choked out, nearly upending my chair in my haste to escape. I’d locked myself in the bathroom, gulping air as angry tears pricked my lids.
How dare he touch me like that, as if I were his personal plaything to paw at? As if I had no right to object?
Later, after our guests finally left, I steeled myself to confront George. Surely he would be livid that his colleague had groped his wife. When I told him, he exploded.
At me.
The slap rocked my head back, pain blooming across my cheek. I gaped at him, too stunned to react. In five years together, he had never raised a hand to me.
“You stupid, selfish woman,” he seethed, his handsome face twisted with rage. “Thanks to your little stunt, Demarcus stormed out before I could close the deal. Months of negotiation down the drain!”
“But he… he touched me, George,” I whispered. “He had no right?—”
“Oh, grow up, Zoey.” George sneered. “You think a man like that cares about your delicate sensibilities? You should have just smiled and endured it for a few hours. It’s not like you have any other marketable skills to bring to the table.”
Shame burned my skin as I recalled how I had simply stood there, blinking back tears. I’d actually apologized to George that night, begging his forgiveness for my thoughtless behavior and vowing to do better next time.
Next time. Holy fuck, what had been wrong with me? Why had I accepted his mistreatment for so long, contorting myself to try to avoid his volatile moods and cutting words? I should have been enraged by his callous disregard for my boundaries. I should have walked out and never looked back.
But George had spent years eroding my confidence, chipping away at my very sense of self. He had blamed me for everything, from business failures to his mercurial temper. No matter how hard I’d tried, I was never quite enough. Never the perfect, pliant doll he wanted me to be.
I dragged myself out of bed, emotionally and physically exhausted from the onslaught of painful memories. As I dressed, I tried to focus on the present, on the fact that George no longer had any power over me. But his voice still echoed in my head, insidious and relentless.
I tiptoed down the hall to check on Ro, needing to reassure myself that he was safe and sound. As I pushed open his bedroom door, I was relieved to find him still fast asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. He looked so innocent, so untouched by the cruelty of the world.
Yesterday had been hard on him. When Heather and I got back from the hospital, he’d clung to me like a lifeline, his small hand gripping mine with desperate intensity. It’d broken me to see the fear on his face, the uncertainty that clouded his bright eyes.
“Mommy, is Dad going to come back?” he’d asked. “Is he going to hurt us again?”
“Oh, baby.” I pulled him into a tight hug. “I won’t let that happen. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
But even as I said the words, doubt crept in. How could I protect Ro when I couldn’t even protect myself? When I had allowed George to control and belittle me for so long?
As I watched Ro sleep now, I vowed to be stronger, to break free from the toxic patterns of my past. I brushed a gentle kiss across Ro’s forehead, careful not to wake him, and slipped out of the room.
Today was a new day, a chance to start healing and reclaiming the parts of myself I had lost. I just had to find the strength to take the first step.
When I got downstairs, I found Heather on the couch, sipping coffee and scrolling through her phone.
“Morning,” she said, looking up from the screen. “How are you holding up?”
I braced myself for the conversation ahead. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said yesterday, about getting help.”
Heather set her phone down, giving me her full attention. “And?”
“And I think you’re right. I need to deal with the trauma George put me through if I ever want to move forward.” I held her gaze, my resolve strengthening. “I want to set up an emergency therapy session for this afternoon.”
A proud smile spread across Heather’s face. “I’m so glad to hear that. You’re making the right decision.”
After calling Elaine—who was more than willing to fit me in, thankfully—I sat with Heather on the couch, my thoughts drifting to the journey ahead.
Confronting the pain of my past wouldn’t be easy.
Maybe, with the right support and a lot of hard work, I could finally break free from the guilt and self-blame that had held me captive for so long.
Maybe I could learn to trust myself again, to believe that I deserved happiness and love.
Heather pulled me into a quick hug, and I melted into her warm and reassuring embrace. “You’ve got this. I’m so proud of you for taking this step.” She beamed. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
We walked into the kitchen, the scent of fresh waffles filling the air. Sam stood at the stove, expertly flipping another golden waffle onto a growing stack. He glanced up as we entered, a warm smile spreading across his face.
“Good morning,” he said. “I thought I’d pop round and whip up some breakfast while everyone else caught up on their sleep.”
I slid onto a stool at the kitchen island, my stomach rumbling appreciatively as Heather refilled her coffee. “It smells amazing, Sam. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
He waved off my protest with a spatula. “Nonsense. It’s no trouble at all. Besides, I figured we could all use a little comfort food after everything that’s happened.” As he set a plate piled high with waffles in front of me, Sam’s expression grew more serious. “How are you holding up?”
I poked at the waffles with my fork. Part of me wanted to brush off his concern, to pretend that I was fine. But Sam’s kind, understanding face made me feel safe, like I could be honest without fear of judgment.
“I’m struggling,” I admitted. “But I’m trying to take steps in the right direction. I have an appointment with my therapist this afternoon.”
Sam reached across the kitchen island and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a brave decision. I’m proud of you for taking that step. It’s not easy to face our demons head-on.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “I just... I don’t want to be like this forever, you know? I don’t want George to keep controlling my life, even when he’s not here.”
Sam’s expression grew thoughtful, a hint of old pain flickering in his eyes.
“I understand that feeling all too well. When your mother and I were together, she struggled to let go of her past. She held back parts of herself and always kept me at arm’s length, even when all I wanted was to love and support her.
” He sighed and shook his head. “In the end, she ran from what we had. She couldn’t let herself believe that she deserved happiness and was worthy of love.
I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you. ”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I met Sam’s gaze. “I don’t want that, either, Sam. I want to heal, to move forward. I’m just... God, I’m terrified.”
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with understanding. “It’s okay to be scared. Healing is a journey, and it’s not always an easy one. But you don’t have to walk that path alone. You have people who love you and will be there for you every step of the way.”
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “You’re right, Sam. I’m going to give therapy my all. I want to be better, for myself and for Ro.”
Sam grinned, pride shining in his eyes. “That’s the spirit. Now, eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”
I heard the patter of feet coming down the stairs, and moments later, Ro appeared in the kitchen doorway. His hair was tousled, and he rubbed his eyes as he yawned.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” I smiled at him. “Come join us for some waffles.”
Ro sat in the chair next to me, but his usual morning cheer was absent. He stared at his plate, pushing the waffle around with his fork.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I asked.
“Why is Dad such a bad guy?” he asked. “I don’t understand why he hurt Noah and took me away.”
My heart constricted. I reached out and stroked his hair. “I wish I had all the answers. Sometimes, people do bad things, and it’s not always easy to understand why.”
“But it’s not your fault, Mom.” Ro looked up at me with earnest eyes. “You didn’t make Dad be a bad guy.”