Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
PRESENT
Grant and I spent almost every second of our time together since our trip. We created a beautiful friendship before we became intimate, so our relationship blossomed naturally. We never went through a phase of awkwardness compared to other couples.
After our trip, we made our relationship and mental health a priority.
We avoided heated arguments by communicating disagreements with true transparency.
We were there for each other through panic attacks, nightmares, fears, and anxieties, and we continued to persevere.
He became my true safe space during a time when I was ready to give up on the idea of love.
He has been super supportive of my decision to cut off my relationship with my mom.
I knew my soul would feel freer when I’m no longer forced to relive my trauma.
She couldn’t respect my boundaries regarding Andrés’s presence in my life, so I’ve kept my distance since my birthday.
I hadn’t even called her around the holidays.
I had delayed the conversation I needed to have with her for long enough. It was time. I wanted to move on to the next stage of my life with Grant.
“What are you doing awake already?” Grant asked as he woke up next to me. He always rushed to turn his alarm off so he wouldn’t wake me up.
“Just overthinking as per usual.” He pulled me into his arms, spooning me.
“I think I can help with that,” he whispered into my ear, nibbling on my neck. I arched into him.
“Don’t you need to get ready for work?” I rubbed my ass against him.
“We can try and be quick.” He slid his hands up and down my body.
“Mm,” I responded. He took my moan of approval as an invitation, releasing himself from his boxer briefs. He slid my panties to the side to expose my entrance. He began with a finger, arching inside of me just the way I liked. I lightly moaned, feeling my arousal grow.
“That’s my good girl, getting wet enough for me. Ready for more?” We never had sex before he went to work because he woke up insanely early, and he didn’t want to disturb my sleep.
“Yes, please,” I said, arching farther into him. He moaned into my ear as he slowly slipped himself into me.
“You feel heavenly in the morning,” he said, moving steadily while I circled my ass with his movements.
He reached one hand around to massage my clit.
The added pressure radiated through my body.
I moved in tandem with him, chasing my release.
“How close are you, pretty girl? I’m so close, what do you need? ”
I leaned back into him, exposing my neck to him. “Can you please bite my neck?” He immediately did so, and a few more thrusts from him, and we were both coming undone. Our bodies shook against each other before going limp in each other’s arms.
“Good morning, my love,” he said, giving me small kisses all over my face. “I really should go get ready now, huh?”
“Probably. I should get up, too. I told my mom to get here early today.” We separated from each other, each getting out of bed from our side.
“Are you sure you don’t want me here when you talk to her?”
“I’m sure. I need to stand on my own this time. I need to prove to myself I’m strong enough to let her go.” He walked over to me and brought me in for an embrace.
“Look at the camera before you open the door in case she tries to bring Andrés. You call me immediately if that happens, okay? You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known, so I know you got this. Some moms can’t be moms, and sometimes you’re just better off—I was.”
“Thank you for being my best friend and my everything. I’m still healing, but you continue to stand by my side.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. I will stand by your side forever, okay? Even past forever.”
“I believe you.” I smiled at him.
He went off to shower and got ready for work while I prepared a charcuterie board for me and Mom to snack on during our last conversation for a while—or ever.
I practiced in my head repeatedly what to say to her.
I needed to be vulnerable and honest, so she took me seriously.
She had the habit of brushing things under the rug that weren’t directly related to her.
But I was sure I made the right decision after what she pulled at my birthday party.
I’ve spent weeks in therapy talking to Darla about all the positives and negatives that would arise because of my decision.
There were way more positives than negatives. I knew I was ready.
“I’m heading out now, my love.” He kissed me on my forehead and nose, and then finally my lips, like he did every morning before he left for work. He shows me love in the best ways. “I love you most.”
“And I still love you more. Be safe.” I watched as he walked out the door.
I invited my mom over early so I wouldn’t perseverate on it all day and end up chickening out. She happened to be visiting a friend in town, so I took the opportunity to invite her over to talk since I kept backing out as soon as I got in the car to drive toward her place.
I played an audiobook while I busied myself cleaning. I had the house to myself since Emma had gone home with someone she met at a bar last night. She was officially in her hookup era after finally breaking up with her ex, Vanessa, for good.
The doorbell rang, indicating my mother was there.
I took one more look at the house to ensure it was in condition to her liking.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to find her dressed so elegantly.
She wore a sleek, long, black dress with a matching cardigan and knee-length heel boots.
Her makeup and hair looked professionally done as well. “Hi, Mom, come on in.”
“Hi, mija.” She gave me a small kiss on the cheek. “I can’t believe I’ve never been to your place. How long have you been living here now?”
“A little over six years.” I guided her to the kitchen, where I had the charcuterie board and apple cider.
“Such a cute little place for you. You’re still with the man from your birthday, right?
Have you thought about living together?” I hadn’t really thought about it, even though we were practically always at each other’s houses.
I guess it wouldn’t be the worst idea, even if we’ve only been dating for a couple of months. He already felt like my forever.
“We haven’t actually talked about it,” I said, sitting across from her, adding cheese and crackers to my plate.
“You'd better tie him down soon, guys like him don’t come around very often. Is this champagne?” she asked, picking up the bottle to pour herself a glass.
“No, it’s just apple cider. Grant and I don’t drink.” She poured us both a glass. We ate and drank silently for a few beats. “I invited you over to have an important conversation with you.”
“What is it, honey?” She almost sounded sincere.
“I want to sell the house,” I started, “and I don’t want the credit card anymore.” I grabbed my wallet, took the card out, and slid it across the table to her.
“What do you mean?” She scrunched her eyebrows, head shifting back.
“I need a break from you, so I need to cut our financial ties.” I paused, giving her room to say something.
When she didn’t, I continued. “I told you how Andrés abused me beginning at age twelve and didn’t stop until I went to college.
You swept my truth under the rug like an old newspaper.
My therapist diagnosed me with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Do you know what that means?”
She stared at me, speechless. “It’s when you experience a chronic trauma over a prolonged period of time rather than one singular event compared to regular PTSD.
” She looked away from me. “I thought you could at least respect my boundaries by keeping him away from me, but then you brought him to my birthday dinner. I sat there in overwhelming panic, and you didn’t even notice.
I can’t continue to hope that you’ll be accountable for the piece you played in my trauma.
I’m thirty-one years old, and I’m finally done. ”
She had the audacity to scoff. “Where would you even live, or how would you pay your bills? I doubt you have enough funds saved up working at that little bookshop. Be serious, Serenity, you need me.” The fire inside of me lit, ready to explode.
I may not have paid the mortgage, but I’ve supported myself without ever using the credit card she gave me. Emma and I have lived frugally, so I had enough saved to put a down payment on a new house if I wanted to.
I let her make me believe I needed her all these years, even though I have been taking care of myself for as long as I could remember. Her money may have helped, but I didn’t need it or her anymore.
I needed peace.
I needed love.
I needed safety.
I needed happiness.
She can’t give me any of that. I was done begging her to choose me because I’m choosing myself.
“If you knew me at all, you’d know I’ll figure it out.
I’m a survivor!” I said sternly. “I survived navigating a childhood by myself while you travelled. I survived living with a different man every other month. I survived when one of those men put his hands on my twelve-year-old body, my fourteen-year-old body, and my fifteen-year-old body.” I stood up tall with my hands balled into fists at my side.
She wouldn’t even look at me. “I survived when you didn’t believe me.
I survived when you married the man who abused me.
I don’t have room for anyone who believes abuse is okay.
It was never and will never be okay.” I blew out a frustrated breath.
“This relationship with you is killing me, and I’m ready to really live for the first time in my life. ”
She shot daggers in my direction. “You act like I was such a terrible mother. You don’t know what it’s like to balance a career and motherhood.
You’ll never know what that’s like since you don’t even have kids and probably won’t be able to.
But it was hard!” she yelled, standing up.
“Don’t worry, I understand. I know when I’m not wanted or appreciated.
I won’t bother you anymore.” She slammed the door on her way out.
I took three deep breaths, cleaned the kitchen, and then went back to lie in bed.
I did what I said I was going to do, but her throwing my fertility issues in my face broke my heart.
If I ever became a mother, I would never make my children feel the way she has made me feel.
No child deserves the abuse and manipulation she put me through.