“It’s weird, but numb when he hit me and alive after.” Gia lays her head on her knees. “He told me he needed me, just the way I was. I was the only thing that kept him happy. The only one he trusted.” Gia looks up, staring at her mother. “Afterward he always cried, told me how sorry he was.” Gia shakes her head. “But I don’t think he was.”
Marin wonders how much heartbreak one lifetime can contain. Hearing her daughter admit the truth, accepting her own culpability in the situation, is overwhelming. “I wanted you to have the perfect life,” Marin explains quietly, finally understanding how all the pieces came together. “I believed being in complete control would make that happen.”
“I miss him. When I see him, I feel safe,” Gia explains.
“I know.” Marin thinks about her visit to the hospital, her need for her father’s love even after everything he did to her. Her rationalization of his behavior when he had no excuses. All of it because she was sure she needed his love more than he needed her. Because she was sure no one could love her, not even herself. “Can I help you?” Marin dares to ask. “On your terms?”
“I’m scared,” Gia replies, curling up. “I don’t understand why I feel like I do. Why I need him.”
“I don’t either,” Marin admits. “But what if we make a deal to take it one step at a time?”
Marin thinks about the steps she needs to take, her own recovery. It may take her a lifetime, and she may not ever fully heal, but she needs to go on the journey, if for no other reason than to hold out her hand to her daughter and help her along the way. To model the right behavior. “I won’t push you or criticize. I’ll just be right here, beside you, always.” Marin bites her lip, her eyes filling with tears. “And I’ll love you, now and forever, no matter what.” And maybe, somehow, she thinks, she’ll even learn to love herself.
“What about you and Dad?” Gia asks, looking like a young child instead of someone on the brink of womanhood. “What are you going to do?”
“Help you, together.” For now it is all Marin can offer. But it’s enough. Their priority is being there for Gia. Marin finally understands the only way is standing side by side with Raj, creating a wall against any harm that can befall their daughter. In time, things will fall into place. No matter what, Marin will always be grateful to him for giving her the greatest joy of her life—their daughter. “And every single day, tell you how much we need you, and that we will do whatever it takes to help you.”
“OK,” Gia says, holding Marin tightly. Together, they watch through the window as the sun disappears behind the horizon, and the moon rises to take its place in the sky, offering light and guidance to those searching for their way.
TRISHA
I arrive at Eric’s in the evening and know he’s home when I see his car parked outside. He sent me his address after he left, in case I needed anything. I needed him to come home, but I didn’t say that, never went to him to make the request.
He answers on the first ring. Shocked to see me, he stares before seeming to remember his manners and inviting me in. A frozen pizza sits on the counter, cut in half, an open bottle of beer next to it. He’s dressed in torn jeans and a battered T-shirt, an outfit I have seen him in hundreds of times before. I rub my sweaty palms on my thighs, nervous and afraid.
I took almost two hours to get dressed this afternoon. First, I slipped on a dress, then decided it was too much. Afterward, I tried a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. That didn’t work either. I finally settled on a skirt and summer shirt, feeling parts of my femininity return with the outfit. Thinking of Papa, I hesitate to show skin, feel shame in doing so. I started to ask myself if I led him on, encouraged him. Memories washed over me; I obsessed about how much affection I showered him with, how I loved him blindly. I stopped myself. I’d done enough research to understand all of my emotions were normal. Including fearing I was the instigator instead of the victim. I told myself, over and over, that I was never at fault; in time I hope I can believe that.