33. Zoey #2
I blinked back tears. Even my own son could see the truth I’d been struggling to accept.
“You’re right, Ro,” I said. “It’s not my fault, and it’s not yours, either. Your dad made his own choices, and we are not responsible for them.”
Ro leaned into my side. I wrapped my arm around him, holding him close.
As we sat there, Sam watching us with a gentle smile, a wave of gratitude washed over me. I might not have all the answers, and the journey ahead would be difficult, but I wasn’t alone. With the love and support of my family, I could face anything that came my way.
After breakfast, I grabbed my purse and headed for the front door. As I opened the door, Ro came running out of the kitchen, his face filled with worry.
“Mom, please don’t go,” he pleaded, clutching my arm. “What if Dad comes and takes you away?”
I knelt down to his level. “Ro, I promise I’ll be careful. I have to go to this appointment, but I won’t let anything happen to me.”
Ro shook his head, his grip on my hand tightening. “It doesn’t matter. Dad’s a bad man. He’ll take you away and hurt you, just like he hurt Noah.”
My throat tightened at the fear in my son’s eyes. I glanced out the window, noticing two men standing near a car parked across the street. For a moment, panic surged through me. Had George sent someone to follow me? The panic receded when I recognized one of them as one of Noah’s shifters.
I waved at him, and he jutted out his chin in return. Turning back to Ro, I pointed out the window. “Look. Noah has some of his shifters watching over us. They’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”
Ro followed my gaze, and some of the tension left his shoulders. “They’ll keep us safe from Dad?”
“They will,” I said. “And the police will be following me, too. I’ll be okay, I promise.”
Ro still looked uncertain, but he let go of my arm. I hugged him tight and kissed the top of his head. “I love you so much,” I said. “I won’t let anything tear our family apart. Not again.”
As I stepped out the door, a mix of emotions swirled within me.
The drive to Elaine’s office felt like it took absolutely forever, the heaviness of the secrets I’d kept buried for so long settling heavily on my chest. As I pulled into the parking lot, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what was to come. This was going to suck.
Elaine greeted me with a warm smile as I entered her office, but the concern in her eyes told me she sensed something was different today. I settled onto the couch, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as I tried to find the right words to begin.
“Zoey, what’s on your mind?” Elaine asked gently, her pen poised over her notepad.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat. I’d grown so accustomed to hiding the truth and protecting George’s image at the cost of my own well-being. But I couldn’t keep living like this, not if I truly wanted to heal.
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” I admitted, staring at the carpet. “About the extent of George’s abuse, the threats he made...”
Elaine leaned forward, her expression one of understanding and encouragement. “It’s okay. This is a safe space. You can share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with.”
Slowly, haltingly, I began to recount the years of torment I’d endured. The bruises I’d hidden beneath long sleeves, the cruel words that had chipped away at my self-esteem. And the promise George had made, the one that still haunted my dreams.
“He said if I ever left him, he’d never let me go. That he’d find me no matter where I went because I belonged to him.” Tears blurred my vision.
Elaine handed me a tissue. “Zoey, what George did to you was not your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“But I brought his wrath to Boldercrest,” I argued, guilt twisting my insides into a knot. “I put everyone in danger, even my own son. Ro is so traumatized by what happened, he didn’t even want me to leave the house today.”
Elaine shook her head. “George’s actions are his own. You are not responsible for the choices he makes or the harm he causes.”
I took a shaky breath. “My sister and Noah both asked me if I thought Ro was responsible for George kidnapping him, for George shooting Noah.” I shook my head, my heart aching at the memory.
“I know Ro isn’t to blame, just like I know deep down that I’m not really at fault.
But George spent the last five years constantly telling me everything that went wrong was because of me.
It’s hard to separate those two versions of myself—the one who believes him, and the one who knows better. ”
Elaine nodded, her expression thoughtful.
“Zoey, what you’re experiencing is a common trauma response.
George created an atmosphere of uncertainty by constantly shifting the blame onto you and keeping you guessing about his reactions.
You never knew if he would lash out, either physically or emotionally, or show kindness.
That unpredictability has left you in a state of hypervigilance, always on edge and quick to blame yourself. ”
She reached out and touched my hand. “It’s not something that will go away overnight, but with time and work, I believe you can overcome this.
Whenever you feel those thoughts creeping in, I want you to repeat these affirmations to yourself: ‘I am worthy of love and compassion. I am not responsible for everything that happens.’”
“I am worthy of love and compassion,” I murmured. “I am not responsible for everything that happens.”
Elaine smiled. “That’s a good start. Remember, healing is a journey, and you’ve already taken the first steps. Be patient with yourself and trust in your own strength. You’ve survived so much already, Zoey. You have the power to reclaim your life and your happiness.”
The drive back to Heather’s house passed in a blur, so much faster than before.
My mind raced from my session with Elaine, a strange mix of excitement and trepidation churning in my gut.
She’d told me nothing I hadn’t already known, that others hadn’t already told me.
Why did hearing a professional say it mean so much?
I parked in the driveway, then simply sat there, hands gripping the steering wheel, my breath coming in measured counts. I could do this. I had to do this.
The sun was warm on my face, and a gentle breeze tousled my hair as I got out of the car.
Each step toward the front door was lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
I’d escaped George physically, but I’d still been his prisoner, the pain and blame he’d ingrained in me for so long keeping me trapped.
As I pushed open the door, the familiar scent of home enveloped me. Heather and Sam sat at the kitchen table, their heads bent together in conversation. They looked up as I entered.
“Hey, Zoey.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay? You seem... different.”
I managed a small smile as I slid into a chair at the table. “Where’s Ro?”
“Upstairs in his room,” Sam replied, still searching my face.
Heather stood and put the kettle on. “I’ll make us some tea.”
As she busied herself with the mugs, I took a deep breath and gathered my courage. “I wanted to… thank you. Both of you. For everything you’ve done to help me get away from George.”
Sam put his hand over mine. “You don’t have to thank us. We’re family. We’ll always be here for you.”
Heather set a steaming mug of tea in front of me, the scent of chamomile wafting up. She sat back down, her green eyes bright with emotion. “I’m just so glad you’re safe now. I was so worried about you, all those years with him...”
I squeezed her hand, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. “I know. And I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner. I just... I couldn’t see a way out. But I do now. And I’m not going to let him control me anymore. I’m ready to start living my life again, on my own terms.”
Heather’s lips curved into a smile, but her gaze remained serious. “Does that mean you’re ready to start taking Noah seriously now?”
I hesitated, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.
“It’s not that I didn’t take him seriously before.
It... I didn’t believe I was entitled to happiness.
But you’re jumping six steps forward, Heather, when I’ve taken two back.
I need to work on the affirmations, on believing in my right to a future. ”
Heather stood abruptly, rounding the table to engulf me in a tight hug. I clung to her, the tears I’d been holding back spilling over. Sam’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood, his strong arms encircling both of us.
“I’m so proud of you, Zoey,” he said. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”
The pounding of feet on the stairs pulled us apart. Ro burst into the kitchen, his face pale, his breathing rapid. His body went rigid with fear when he saw my tear-stained face.
“Is... is Dad back?” he whispered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
I wiped my cheeks, shaking my head vehemently. “No, honey, not at all. I promise he’s not here. These are happy tears.” Sort of. I was ready to move forward, and that did make me happy.
Ro’s shoulders slumped with relief, but the lingering fear in his eyes tugged at my heart. I opened my arms, and Ro flew into them, his small body shaking against mine. I held him close and stroked his hair.
“I’m sorry, Ro,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been stronger for you. But I promise, that’s going to change. We’re going to get through this together, okay? We’re going to build a new life, a better life. And your father... he’s not going to be a part of it. Not anymore.”
Ro pulled back, his green eyes searching my face. They mirrored George’s deep green hue, but where George’s glittered with coldness and malice, Ro’s exuded warmth and an abundance of love. “You promise? You pinkie-promise?”
Smiling through my tears, I cupped his cheek. “I pinkie-promise. From now on, it’s you and me, kid. We’re going to be okay.”