CHAPTER61
She is caring for a fourteen-year-old girl and has just subjected her to the same traumatic sight I saw at ten years of age; a sight which led to my being in a children’s home for almost a year. Child Protective Services invaded our life, taking me from an abusive environment and sending me to one that, in my eyes, was far worse, a children’s home, only to return me when she promised that her life was different. That particular lover was long gone, but we both knew that a new one was around the corner any day. I learned to lie after that, to help cover up who she really was. That year in the home taught me, when it comes to parenting, there are far worse people in the world than my mother.
I stare at my suitcase and can’t stop the crushing weight consuming me.
I’ll have to go back there. I’ll have to go home to Chicago after being away for almost six years.
I want to cry; I want to lay down, open my mind, and let it all pour away. I’m desolate and scared. An internal agony threatens to consume me, vibrating inside my stomach. I never thought I would be in this place ever again. I’m scared, and fear is not something I ever wanted back in my head.
I pick up my cell and call Jake’s number. It’s impulse, something I do without a thought. He always knows how to make me smile, how to make me feel better. Just his voice on the other end will make me calmer. I need to tell him I’ll be gone for a few days. Maybe he’ll let me use the jet instead of commercial airlines to save me the misery of facing people for this two-hour flight. I just need to speak to him so badly I can almost taste it.
“Hey,” he answers after only two rings. He sounds cheerful, and it tugs my heart into chaos even more as I picture his smiling face and beautiful, clear emerald eyes.
“Jake, I need to go home. Back to Chicago.” My voice is shell shocked and small. I can’t pretend right now; I’m too raw to try. I try to control the waiver but I fail, unable to contain my heartbreak at the sound of his deep comforting tone.
“Emma? What’s wrong, carina? Are you crying?” His soft, soothing voice causes a solitary tear to slide from my eye and I wipe it away, defenseless with him in my ear.
Maybe I shouldn’t have called him. He sounds surprised to hear me tearful.
“No,” I lie. “My mom is in the hospital … an accident.” I can’t tell him that she’s let another abusive man nearly destroy her life and has left her half-dead; I can’t open that can of worms and confessions.
“Shit! Do you want me to come with you? I’ll call the airfield and get the jet ready.” He’s concerned, my sweet Jake. I want to run into his arms and let him hug me like he did in the hotel the morning we fought. What wouldn’t I give to have him here right now?
“No, I have to do this alone.” I want him to come with me so badly, but knowing what he would see, the questions he would ask, is unbearable. I don’t want him to know that part of my past. Ever!
“If you’re sure, dolcezza? I’ll call the airfield, and Jefferson will pick you up to take you to the airport. Just pack, okay?” He’s reserved about it and doesn’t push.
“Thank you.” I know I sound strange, even to myself. I wonder how I sound to him. I hope it’s more in control than I feel, but I don’t want him to hang up and leave me with myself.
“You know, I’ll come if you want me to?” His husky statement makes me even more overly emotional and vulnerable, and it hits me in my chest like a thud.
“I know. I just can’t, Jake. There are things …” I stop myself. I was about to say too much, about things he should never know about from my past life. He would never see me the same way again.
“One day, Emma, you’ll want to tell me. I’ll be here when you do.” He sighs with a heaviness, and I’m scared he’ll go. I can’t let him go just yet; my hands have started trembling and the tears build up in my throat, choking me with the ache.
“Jake?” I panic, not sure how else to stop him from going.
“What, bambina?” His voice is breathy and he’s being gentle with me. It’s too much, and the rip slowly tearing across my chest intensifies, a small sharp pain slicing through. I can’t hold it in, and I break down completely, unable to hide my sobs down the line.
“That’s it, Emma! I’m coming over right now,” he states firmly with no hint of backing down in that commanding tone.
I can’t respond. All I can do is try and refuse through tears, but only hysteria comes out.
I hate that she’s brought me back to this place, brought down the walls and broken me open wide to the world, to Jake. All it took was the repeat of a buried memory.
He says something else that I don’t hear over my own tears, and the line goes dead. I can’t even argue anymore. I curl up on the bed and cry my heart out in despair. Once again broken. I don’t have the strength to deal with any of this; it’s all too much, all falling apart after years of holding it all in, and I’m so very tired tonight.
I don’t know how long I lay on the bed blubbering into my pillow, but I finally calm and realize I should call him back to stop him from coming over, but I’m too late; I jump at the knock on the door and my heart lurches. I want him to leave, never to see me like this, but at the same time I need to see him.
I rush to the door and yank it open without hesitation, all self-composure gone, replaced with only the need to have him with me. I’m faced with the only person in the world I want to see right now. He says nothing, just stands there as my strong, safe haven, then steps in and wraps his arms around me tightly in the doorway. I fall to pieces with a tidal wave of pent-up tears breaking free, and I don’t hold back. He holds me, patiently waiting, staying silent, just being my rock, holding me up, arms cradling me, fingers in my hair, keeping me steady.
Finally, he guides me inside, pulls me to the sofa, and sits me down, his face close and arms enveloped around me. I cling onto him as though my life depends on it and let all the tears and heartbreak out with fresh vigor. A million thoughts run through my head, swirling crazily."
