Prohibition

Chapter 61

Evelyn managed to wait until they were back in Raymond's car to start sobbing. Huddling against him, she tried in vain to compose herself. A storm of emotions churned inside her, making her almost sick--yet, at the same time, her heart felt strangely numb and hollow. She had known this would probably happen--her father's anger, his venomous words--yet nothing could have prepared her for the awful reality of it. Her father was supposed to protect her, to be her shelter from the storms of life, to comfort her when others said harsh things...when the world called her a slut, he was supposed to tell her they were wrong. How could he be the one tearing her apart, degrading her, disowning her... 

A piece of her identity--a part of herself she had clung to through thick and thin--had been torn from her in that room. Throughout her life, she had always been proud to be her father's daughter. She had loved her mother desperately--worshipped her, even--but, after she had left, her adoration had soured to something disturbingly close to hatred. After that day, she had never wanted to be known as her mother's daughter again. But her father...he was her everything. All that she was came from him. In the aftermath of her mother's abandonment, through being with Charlie, through feeling unloved and unlovable, through the dark days following her miscarriage, she had found solace in her father. She had clung to him, had tried to make herself just like him. She had never tried to emulate a person more than him. And now, now that he had cast her aside, she was nothing. Her entire identity was gone--stripped away in a moment. She felt naked, vulnerable, a husk of herself. Who was she without her father? Could she be anything at all? 

"Evelyn?" Raymond brushed his thumb across her cheek, a futile attempt to wipe away her tears. "What do you want to do now?"

Evelyn sniffed and rubbed her sleeve across her teary eyes. She had to pull herself together, had to think as clearly as she could. She was no longer her father's daughter, but maybe--just maybe--she still had his brain. "We need to go to my--" the realization that it was no longer her home, no longer her house even, almost choked her. "We need to go to Dad's house and get my things." She sniffed. "My clothes and whatnot."

"Alright." Raymond nodded. "Come here." Wrapping his arm around Evelyn's waist, he pulled her onto his lap. "I love you," he whispered, his hand caressing her face, supporting her. "This is worth it. We're worth it." 

"I know." Evelyn's voice was barely audible. "But I just lost my dad..."

"I know." He wrapped his arms around her slight frame as she trembled like a leaf in a hurricane. She rested her head on his shoulder, her wet cheek sticking to his jacket. "I'll always be right beside you," was all he could think to say. But for Evelyn, who leaned over to kiss him tearily, that seemed--at least for the moment--to be enough. 

***

Inside the mansion that was no longer her home, Evelyn pulled rack after rack of clothes from her wardrobe and closet. "I don't need half of these," she said bitterly, looking down at the array of elegant dresses strewn across her bed. Her fingers trailed across a deep cranberry-red silk dress, gold and crystal beads swirling across it. Her father had bought it for her in Paris--the last trip they had taken together...the last trip they would ever take together. Tears clouded her vision once more, and, crushing the material between her fingers, she tossed the dress aside. 

"Hey." Raymond was at her side in an instant. "You can still wear these dresses." Searching through the heap of clothing that was piled on her bed, he held up a shimmering black dress. "Do you remember when you wore this?" 

A small smile flitted across her face. "The first time we kissed," she murmured, taking the dress from him.

"Yes." Raymond stepped closer to her, his hand sliding down to her waist. "Don't leave your dresses," he whispered. "They have memories."