I let the words roll off my tongue, I pluck tissue after tissue out of the box on the table beside me, I allow the tears to fall and my mouth to expel all the nastiness inside.
I talk and talk and talk.
Ava doesn’t say a word. She just sits there, writing the occasional note on the pad of paper in front of her.
It’s like I’ve opened up a faucet that I can’t shut off.
I feel dirty as I recall the bath tub and the handcuffs. I feel unworthy as I recall how I would curl up in a ball and silently beg for my life. I feel stupid that I didn’t go with Cal when he came to try and save me.
I go through the full range of emotions, much like I’ve been doing for days, but instead of masking it like I try to do around Cal and Kim, I let go and don’t hold back.
I need this outlet, because it’s just for me. It’s not about anyone else in this room, and Ava doesn’t need me to try and be strong. This is my place to break down and put myself back together.
When I stop talking, I just sit there and breathe, closing my eyes, enjoying the feeling of letting it all go.
“You know, Lucy,” Ava begins, and I open my eyes, wiping away the last few tears so that she isn’t all blurry. “I’m not meant to have an opinion in here, but I formed one whilst you were speaking.” I suck in a breath and wait to see what she is about to say. Did I go too far? Should I have held back more?
“You are strong, Lucy. Never have I had someone open up to me so quickly, and that speaks volumes. I can see that you want to put this behind you and try to get back to some sort of normalcy. I can see that you want to live and not dwell on the events of the past. Those marks that still mar your body, they’re your battle scars. They will remind you of who you are, of how you survived. Over time the bruises will fade, but you’ll still know that those bruises were there, and you will smile because you fought and won.”
Fought and won.
I never thought of it like that.
Battle scars, not just ugly-ass marks upon my skin.
I’ve been through my own kind of war and I’m still standing.
“But, how do I forgive myself for being weak?” I say, looking to Ava for the answer.
“You’re not weak, Lucy, but that’s what you’re here to figure out. Only you can forgive yourself, and once you do that, you’ll be able to live the life that you want,” Ava says.
Again, it’s all on me.
“What if I never can?” I whisper. I let the people I love the most down, I let myself down, and now I’ve got to try and crawl out of the giant vat of guilt that I’m bathing in all by myself?
“Then you will never move on, and you’ll always be trapped with the man that put his hands on you,” Ava says, and fuck if her words don’t hit me where it hurts.
I can’t be trapped with him forever.
I don’t want to live with him living inside of me.
I need to expel every single part of Michael that ever entered my heart.
I will fight, I will forgive, and I will push myself to be someone that I admire.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Waiting
Cal
Waiting. It’s something I’ve learned to do. I used to be a whirlwind, bouncing from one place to another, never able to sit still as I tried to keep my mind busy, but now, now I’m okay with waiting.
Because it’s for her.
For Lucy.
I would wait for an eternity for her.
