Exit Wounds

19 | big girl

          This isn't a pleasant way to live. It's no way to live, not in a sustainable way, anyway, and every single time I'm attacked by those thoughts, a tidal wave of exhaustion washes over me and I'm reminded about how horrible I've been feeling all along.

          I'm giving Adam, the damage he's caused, and my trauma far more power than I'm comfortable with, but there are times when both those things are stronger than I can be when those strong emotions hit. I don't want them to win, and I know this is the right moment to speak up, but the consequences can be disastrous, especially to me. I can't afford losing everything I've fought so hard for.

          "I've never been more terrified in my life," I confess, picking at my rice bowl and pushing a soft boiled egg around. My hands are shaking at an embarrassing level, and the clacking sound of my cutlery hitting the porcelain bowl is getting on my nerves. "It's even worse than it was back then. There's so much more at stake now, so much more I have to lose. I don't want to go back to the state I used to be in."

          "There's a lot to lose, but there's even more you can gain from it," Michelle points out, curled under a blanket. "You've already won by coming this far. That's something he can't take away from you. He can't take your life away. Not again."

⊹˚. ♡

          My father insists on driving me and Sadie to the airport the following day. Our flight is at the end of the day, just as the afternoon sun sets and dusk breaks, and I regret having spent my entire morning locked in offices, filling up paperwork. I'll miss the sun, though New York is set to receive a warm summer regardless, but, deep down, I know nothing will ever compare to LA. Not even the harsh, painful memories can erase that.

          It's done. It's over. 

          I'm still not sure how in the world I found the courage to speak out, to be honest, to put myself in Rebecca Kane's shoes, but I still did it. Even when all the odds were stacked up against me, I still knew I wasn't alone, and, this time, I have a shot at actually getting some justice—not just for myself, but for any other girls who Adam might have gotten to and threatened. I've never even considered the possibility of not having been the only one, a clear indicator of how self-absorbed I've always been, but it only served as an incentive to keep going. I felt the horror of laying myself bare to strangers, and kept going anyway. That must count for something.

          I'll have to come back if the investigation moves forward. The prosecutor believes they have a strong foundation to work with, and I use that as fuel to not make up any excuses to not come back. I don't want to come back, truthfully, but I no longer have a choice in the matter. I've made my bed, and it's mine. Adam has no room in it.

          Adam has no room in my life. I want him out, I want him gone—for good.

          I'm as restless as a wildfire as we stop by the security gates, where I'll have to part ways with my father, and Sadie disappears first to grant us some privacy during our final conversation. He's quick to pull me into a bear hug, the first he's enveloped me in since I've been in Los Angeles, and that knowledge isn't lost on me. He's doing it now because he knows I won't come back out of my own free will.

          "You're welcome here whenever you feel ready to come back," he says, and my cheek presses awkwardly against his chest, ear bending and all. I still lean into the hug, feeling his warmth seep deep into my bones. "You know that."

          "Don't count on it."

          He ignores that final snarky comment, though that's not the full extent of its nature, and finally steps back from the hug. This time, he's the one to let go first, though I suspect neither of us are quite ready for my departure. "I'll always miss my little girl. No matter what you do, no matter where you go, I'll always be waiting for you."

          I swallow the lump in my throat like the big girl that I am, even though I spent the whole drive to LAX bawling like an idiot, suddenly hyper aware I'll never stop having to turn my back on him. It feels like I'm betraying him somehow, betraying the part of me that wants to cling to an illusion of a perfect world and a perfect life in perfect Los Angeles, but, deep down, I know that's all there is to it.

          It's fabricated. The real world, the one that I need to run after, is a lot grittier and grayer.

          "Goodbye, Dad."

          I've gotten everything I've ever wanted—my life back (some of it, at least), my control, a good career, a fresh start, some semblance of revenge—and it only cost me my most valuable emotional possession: my father's love for a version of myself that no longer exists. It's probably why I've clung to her for so long, even when I tried to convince everyone around me, including myself, that she was dead and gone and buried, far from anyone's reach, but I understand now why I have to fully let her go in spite of the consequences.

          No matter how much it shatters me, no matter how badly it breaks my heart, I must leave my father behind until he learns I'm also his daughter, and I'm also deserving of the love he was—and is—willing to give Rebecca. As long as he doesn't let her go and accepts I'm all he has, then we'll forever be incompatible and we'll forever have to keep walking away from each other. That wound will always be open until he decides it's time to let it heal instead of picking at the scabs.

          I make my way past the gates. This time, I don't look back. Not even in anger.

⊹˚. ♡

we're gonna be back to new york baby and y'all know what that means. it's nick time

i went ahead and added a few more words to chapters 12 and 13. as one does. they're not important for the plot, but they're important for the narrative itself. so so sorry about how long this was. the next two chapters will be fairly shorter as promised!!