Lucy Lahey trusted the man she was dating, and it turned out to be her biggest mistake. Reeling in the aftermath of a rape that stole not only her virginity, but her confidence, her love for MMA, her clarity and more, Lucy now finds herself in Jerse...
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The quiet wakes me up in the middle of the night. I'd fallen asleep before I could put the TV on and at three in the morning, when it's dark, noiseless and haunting, I turn on Gossip Girl reruns.
Not a show I'm all that fond of, but it doesn't matter when its purpose is to lull me to sleep.
In the morning, the TV is off.
Downstairs, mom and Coen are sitting at the breakfast table having waffles while mom paints her nails with a crimson red.
It's strange how it doesn't feel like an hour has passed since I was here last, in this kitchen, with these two people, the smell of homemade breakfast.
But so much has changed and even the familiarity is painted with a brushstroke of distortion.
"Good morning, sweetheart," mom dips her brush in the bottle, smiling. "Breakfast?"
"Did you turn my TV off last night?"
"This morning, at about five," she says. "I went to the bathroom and heard it going."
"Can you not?" I say with more hostility than I intended. "I like to have it going while I sleep."
She pauses her nail painting and looks at me. "No problem. I'll leave it on next time."
"Thanks," I mumble and slide into the seat next to Coen, staring out of the French doors. Morning sun hits the panes of glass, a blinding glow creates warmth throughout the room.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
"Have something to eat, honey."
I look at the waffles and toppings. "Are they made from scratch?"
"Of course," mom says, amused. "Let me guess, dad made everything out of a box?"
Something about her tone rubs me the wrong way and I sit back, folding my arms. "He did his best." Mom doesn't respond and I can see Coen looking between the two of us. "You know, the whole time I was with dad, whenever he talked about you, it was with respect and admiration. He never said an unkind thing."
Her mouth opens like she wants to say something, but I cut her off.
"Whenever you talk about him, you shit all over him."
Mom chews on her lip and bounces her knee, evidence she's attempting to keep her temper under wraps. "Luce, you were very small when dad left, and you have no idea what he put me through up until then. I've earned the right to talk shit about him. He can't talk shit about me, I didn't do a damn thing to deserve it."
She has a point and I inhale a deep breath, filling my lungs before I respond. "Fine," I seethe. "Fair enough. But he apologized, right? He feels bad and he can't take it back but he's doing his best. Don't be so awful all the time. Yesterday actually went well, don't turn around and ruin it."
