Chapter 34
Cassandra
Even a week later, I find my thoughts consumed by that phone call with Mikhail.
With the visit to his mother. I can’t stop thinking about what happened to his family.
He earned his position in such a painful way.
It’s a wonder he has the capacity to open up to others at all after something like that.
I remember the guttural tone of his voice when he told me he’d wanted to kill his father himself.
I couldn’t have him hurt anyone else. The words play in my mind in circles, each loop dancing in a different direction.
It’s still plaguing me when I dial my mother for our weekly phone call. The same sinking anticipation of hearing my stepfather in the background mixes with something new.
Is that what I’m doing? Giving Joe the opportunity to hurt someone else?
“Hey, Cassy! How was your week, sweetie?” My mom’s warm voice soothes my worry like honey on a sore throat. I relax into the chair and try to forget all about Joe, enjoying my limited time with Mom.
“It was good! Just a lot of late nights studying. How was your week, Mom?”
“Oh, you know.”
I don’t like the way her voice wobbles a bit around the words.
“What’s been going on, Mom?”
“It’s nothing, love. Joe is just having a stressful week, that’s all. Money has been tight, but we’re gonna be fine.”
“Did he hurt you?” I ask anxiously.
“Don’t worry, Cass, it’s just a bit of stress. Anyway, tell me more about what’s going on in your life. Only a month more for your classes, right?”
I don’t know what hits me, but as I listen to the woman who raised me force down her own feelings and pain, I feel the overwhelming desire to tell her the plans I’ve had in place since my freshman year.
All of the hard work I’ve done to give her a way out, to strike a match at the end of her tunnel.
“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. I have interviews for a good job already set in place—”
“I know, baby, you told me about your teacher setting those up! I’m so proud of you. I could never excel the way you have.”
“Thanks, Mom. About that, I was hoping that after I have a secure source of revenue, that is, when I’m able to provide for both of us,” I ramble nervously. “…that you might come live with me.”
The silence stretches like a tight rubber band, tension increasing until the snap finally cracks through the air.
“What? What are you talking about, Cassandra?”
“I want you to leave Joe and let me take care of you instead.” I feel like a pathetic little girl once more, asking my mommy to spend more time with me.
“Honey, I can’t just leave Joe. He’s my husband.” Her tone makes me feel even more infantile, chiding me like a petulant kid.
“Joe abuses you, Mom. He hurts you in the same way he hurt me. I could take care of you ten times better and you know it!”
“Cassy, I’m proud of you for leaving, really, I am. But I can’t leave him. He’s all I have. All I know.”
You have me, too, I want to scream, but something about her steadfast tone stops me.
Her defense of him isn’t all that surprising. I’ve gotten used to her excuses for his behavior over the years. What does surprise me is the way she passively bats at the escape route I’ve been building her the past four years, like it’s little more than a bothersome fly.
I had assumed she stayed because she was logistically trapped, but…my throat constricts.
I guess I just thought she would choose me.
“I don’t want to talk about this again, okay? I’m not leaving my husband, and you need to focus on taking care of yourself. I’m not like you, Cass. I’m not brave. I don’t like change. I don’t even really like to leave my house, I—”
The sickening yell of my stepfather suddenly cuts off her voice to get off the phone, and I listen in horror as her breaths shake in fear.
“I’ve got to go. Bye, Cassy.”
When the call cuts out, I release a vicious shout into the air, filled with dueling parts of anger and pain.
Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve meticulously planned over the past four years, has depended on the belief that my mom would choose me over him if I freed her from her financial cuffs. I never imagined she’d let his grasp engrave so deeply into her being.
Crumpling down onto the floor, I’m filled with this lost, hopeless feeling that seeps into every single one of my aspirations. Everything, my entire degree and all of those job opportunities, it’s all so fucking useless if my mom can’t grow a pair and actually leave the guy.
I hate Joe.
I hate my mom for choosing him over me.
And most of all, I hate myself for leaving my mother with him all those years ago.
I had thought, foolishly, that going away for college could get me a head start.
That I could make something of myself, have something to offer her.
It was how I rationalized leaving her in that violent house in the first place.
I feel so weak, so fucking useless.
I claw my fingers into my sweater, rocking myself back and forth.
Curled in a fetal position, I recall Mikhail’s words all over again. I couldn’t have him hurt anyone else.
I want to be as strong as he is.
I want to be in control.
And that’s the thought that guides me out to my car. Door slamming shut, I rev the engine and pull onto the street.