45. Zoey
ZOEY
I stared down at my untouched eggs and toast, the clinking of silverware against plates the only sound breaking the awkward silence. Heather shifted uncomfortably in her seat beside me while Mom fiddled with her napkin.
Finally, Mom cleared her throat. “Let’s just get to the reason we’re all here, shall we?” She took a deep breath. “My father abused my mother. He was cruel and controlling. To this day, I remember every time he hit her.”
My grip tightened on my fork. Heather took my hand under the table and squeezed it so hard, my fingers went numb.
“He arranged my marriage to Anthony Lester.” Mom’s green eyes clouded with old pain. “An older man, just as abusive as my father. But back then, you obeyed your father, your husband. A woman had no autonomy.”
“That’s awful,” Heather whispered. “I had no idea.”
Mom gave a bitter laugh. “I was raised to believe that was how a man showed his love. By keeping his woman in line.”
Anger flared in my chest as I remembered how trapped and powerless I’d felt with George. The constant fear, walking on eggshells.
“Anthony gambled away every penny I earned. I worked sixty hours a week just to keep a roof over our heads while he drank and cheated.” Mom shook her head. “His affairs were a relief, honestly. Better than him beating me.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I had no idea what you went through.”
“I wanted to protect you girls from that life. Spare you that pain. But instead...” Mom trailed off and pressed her lips together in a tight line.
“We’re here now,” I said, meeting her gaze. “We’ll get through this together.”
She shuddered. “I came home late from my waitressing shift one night, exhausted to my bones. When I unlocked the front door, I heard muffled crying coming from the living room.” She shook her head.
“My stomach twisted into a knot as I called out for you, Zoey. A whimper answered me. I rushed inside to find you—you were only four years old—cowering in the corner. Anthony was standing over you, his hand raised to strike.” She closed her eyes, twisting the napkin between her fingers.
“I yelled at him, asked him how many times he’d hit you before.
You clung to my leg, sobbing. He said, ‘Only when she deserves it.’” She met my gaze again.
“That’s when he told me he’d do what he damn well pleased.
That he and my daddy already had it all arranged. ”
My heart stopped. “What are you talking about?”
“He said he’d found a good man to take ‘the girl’ off our hands.
Marry you when you turned eighteen. My baby.
You hadn’t even started kindergarten, and they were already selling her off to the highest bidder.
That night, I waited until Anthony passed out.
When he was drunk, his snores made the thin walls rattle, so I knew he wouldn’t wake up soon.
I packed a bag with a change of clothes for both of us and your favorite stuffed bunny.
I didn’t dare take anything else. I had no idea where we were going to go, but I knew we couldn’t stay in that house a minute longer.
Not with Anthony. Not with the future they had planned for you, Zoey.
” She closed her eyes, deep in her memories.
“I made it to a women’s shelter. The next few days passed in a blur of meetings with caseworkers, hushed conversations with other women, and figuring out how to get you to sleep in a strange place.
I was just starting to feel like I could breathe again when Anthony showed up at the shelter, demanding to see me.
I don’t know how he found me, but he did. ”
“What did you do?” Heather whispered.
Mom shook her head. “Refused him, but he kept coming back. At first, he tried to convince me with sweet talk and promises to come back with him. When I kept rejecting him, the threats started. Anthony’s obsession only seemed to grow.
He filled up my voicemail, left notes at the shelter, threatened to take Zoey from her daycare.
I lived in constant fear, jumping at shadows.
” She sucked down a big gulp of her drink.
“Then, he told me if I didn’t come home, he’d kill you. ”
“He threatened to kill me?” I whispered. “His own child?”
She nodded grimly, blinking back tears. “I’m so sorry, honey. You were so little. I prayed you wouldn’t remember any of it. It was a truly harrowing time.”
Shaking my head in disbelief, I grappled with the reality that our lives had taken a similar path in such a tragic way, leaving us both victims of circumstances no woman should face. Survivors, I corrected myself. We’d gotten out. We were survivors.
“I had no idea,” I said. “God, Mom, that’s monstrous. I’m so sorry you went through that.”
She reached out to grip my hand. “Oh, Zoey, honey, it wasn’t your fault. I’d have done anything to protect you. You’re my baby. I wasn’t about to let that bastard lay a finger on you ever again.”
We sat in heavy silence for a long moment, the ghosts of the past swirling around us. I could only hope unburdening this secret would bring us closer, even if the memories stung like salt in an open wound.
“One night, I found Anthony waiting for me at the shelter after I’d finished work.
Not wanting to deal with him, I walked past. Ignoring him was like throwing a lit match at a pool of gasoline.
He erupted and beat me. Badly. One of the women at the shelter, Lisa, came out, and he ran off.
She helped clean me up. I was a mess. My eyes were so swollen, I could barely see out of them.
She told me she could get me something that might help protect us. ”
Heather leaned forward. “What did she give you?”
“A gun,” Mom said, and Heather’s eyes widened in shock. “I know, I know. But I was desperate and terrified. The police weren’t doing anything, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
“The next time Anthony came around, pounding on the shelter doors, screaming my name... I met him outside, hiding the gun behind my back. He laughed in my face when he saw me, called me weak and pathetic.” She stared out the window.
“I pointed the gun right at him. Told him if he ever came near us again, I would kill him. He just laughed harder, told me I didn’t have the guts.
I pulled the trigger. Missed him by an inch, but it was enough.
He stopped laughing real fast. Ran off with his tail between his legs and never bothered us again.
” She scoffed. “Guess even bullies back down when you stand up to them.”
Stunned, I tried to process it all.
“I should’ve seen George for what he was from the start,” she said quietly. “I should’ve tried harder to talk you out of dating him. I thought with all his money, at least you’d be looked after. Even if the marriage was loveless. I had no idea he’d be just as bad as your father.”
I felt the hot sting of tears threatening to spill over as she grabbed my hand.
“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. That I couldn’t spare you that pain. I thought I was doing the right thing, pushing you toward security and stability. But abuse is abuse, no matter how fancy the wrapping. And you deserve so much better than that.”
Heather snorted derisively beside me. “What does abusive even look like? Because from where I’m sitting, seems like you had a real hard time spotting it.”
The silence that followed stretched out between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. I fidgeted with the napkin in my lap, twisting it around my fingers as I searched for the right words.
“You’re right,” my mom finally said. “I didn’t know how to see it for what it was.
Not with Anthony. I was broken when I met Sam.
” She looked at me, and her face softened.
“You were only five years old when I met him, Zoey. I was a single mom struggling to make ends meet. Working myself to the bone just to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I was still sleeping with a loaded pistol under my pillow, too afraid to let my guard down. Even with Sam. I never told him about it. Never wanted him to know just how deep that fear ran.” She sighed.
“I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping it all locked away.
Putting on a brave face for you girls, and for Sam.
But all I did was teach you the wrong lessons.
Teach you to swallow your pain. To settle for less than you deserve.
“I tried my best to be a good partner to your dad, Heather.” Mom looked at my sister.
“But the trauma, the abuse, the cheating... it shattered my trust in men. In relationships. In myself. I was so distant with you girls when you were growing up. Always holding a part of myself back, afraid that I’d teach you the wrong things about love and family.
That I’d pass on my own brokenness.” A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
“And in the end, that’s exactly what I did.
By pushing you away, by not being there when you needed me most..
. I left you vulnerable. I allowed a monster like George to worm his way into your life.
And for that, I’ll never forgive myself.
” She gave a deep sigh. “I thought... I hoped that by leaving, you’d go back to Sam and Heather.
That you’d have the stability and support you needed.
But then you told me you were pregnant, that you felt trapped with George. ”
I shook my head, the regret a palpable ache in my chest.
“I should have been there for you. Should have seen the signs. Should have protected you from making the same mistakes I did. But I was too caught up in my own pain, my own failings as a mother, to be the support you needed.”
I glanced over at Heather, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet throughout our mom’s confessions. Her green eyes were hard, her jaw clenched tight.