CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

Amber

When Zach parked his Hummer in the driveway of my old home, my stomach coiled with nerves. The last time I’d been here, I’d been a different person. So much had changed in the last couple of months, and yet I was terrified that I would somehow revert to my old self once I set foot into the house where I’d hidden myself away for three years. Zach squeezed my hand. Brian didn’t wait for us. He slipped out of the backseat and opened the trunk to unload our luggage and Pumpkin’s carrier. “You look nervous,” Zach said. “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous? After all your father’s going to roast me for dating you.”

“He promised to go easy on you.”

“Well, that’s a consolation.” Zach kissed my cheek. “Now come. We don’t want to make your dad wait. He’s already watching us.”

My head whirled around. And indeed Dad was standing on the porch, his eyes focused on us. I opened the car door and got out. Zach grabbed our bag before he came to my side and took my hand. Together we walked toward Dad who was staring at me like I was an apparition. His eyes kept darting to my hand, which was linked with Zach’s. We stopped in front of him and Zach let go of me to shake hands with my father who didn’t say anything. I didn’t think he was doing it to intimidate Zach; he looked too stunned for words. When Zach stepped back, I moved toward Dad and wrapped my arms around him. He froze, but then he hugged me back lightly. His hands barely touched my back as if he was scared of breaking me. I still didn’t exactly feel comfortable with physical contact most of the time, but this brought back only good memories. Memories of a time when everything was still as it was supposed to be. When I drew back after a moment, Dad’s eyes were filled with tears. He still didn’t say anything. I could see how hard he was fighting for composure. Heat pressed against my eyeballs but I didn’t want to cry today.

Dad squeezed the bridge of his nose, drew in a deep breath, then he nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go in. It’s too cold to stand on the porch all day.”

The moment I stepped inside, my throat tightened. I wasn’t sure why. It was ridiculous to be scared of a place. This wasn’t even where I’d been attacked. But it was the place where I’d tried to kill myself twice, where I’d learned to hate life and myself, where I’d spent hours resenting my father for saving me, and my brother for leaving my father alone with me. Three years of darkness and despair, of fear and frustration – that’s what the house meant for me. The memories of those three years covered up every good memory I’d made in the sixteen years before the incident. What if the darkness and despair harbored in these walls were strong enough to cover up every good memory I’d made since I’d moved out? I still remembered the day I’d tried to kill myself for the second time. I’d taken one of the razorblades Dad kept hidden in his sock drawer and I’d sat down on the bathroom floor because I didn’t want to ruin the carpet in the other rooms and then I’d drawn the blade across my skin. It had hurt like hell and I didn’t get a deep cut on the first try, so I had to do it again with more pressure. My palms were slick with blood and sweat, but I wasn’t crying. I was calm, my hands steady. I watched the blood trickling out of my wound for a long time until eventually I had to lie back and lost consciousness. Today, I couldn’t imagine doing something like that again, not only because I didn’t want to hurt those around me, but also because I wanted to live. And yet I could remember the despair of that day as if I was actually feeling it right this second.

Dad was talking but I didn’t hear him. Oh God, not a panic attack. Please. I didn’t want to lose it in front of dad who actually looked happy for once, or Brian who had been looking forward to Thanksgiving, or Zach whom I’d almost convinced that I could be a normal girl. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to go through life without fear and anxiety and panic attacks.

Zach cupped my cheeks and his face filled my vision, his eyes intent on mine. I focused on their blue color until there was no room for anything else. I breathed in and out, tried to calm the pounding of my pulse, tried to forget the past. Zach didn’t say anything, but even without words he anchored me in the present, built an invisible barrier between the hurtful past and me. I swallowed, then released a long breath. “Okay?” Zach whispered.

I nodded. He dropped his hands. Brian and Dad were watching us, and I couldn’t help but feel ashamed for freaking out like that.

 

Zach

Amber disappeared in the bathroom to splash her face with water. The moment the door closed behind her, her dad turned toward me. “Let’s go into the living room and talk.”

Brian, the traitor, didn’t join us. He went up to his room. I was surprised he didn’t want to be present when his dad roasted me. I sank down on the brown sofa and Amber’s dad took a seat in an armchair across from me. “Call me Joseph,” he said, then he eyed me closely. “You’ve been dating Amber for a while now.”

“Six weeks,” I said. I decided not to mention that I’d never been in a serious relationship before. Fathers usually didn’t like that.

“Brian told me a lot about you.”

Of course, he had. “Okay,” I said slowly.

“I don’t care about that. Well, I did before I saw you and Amber together, but now…” He trailed off. “Today I saw glimpses of the daughter I lost three years ago. I thought she was gone completely.” I could tell that he was struggling for composure. He clenched his hands at his side and his gaze flitted to a frame at the wall. In it was a photo of his entire family: Amber, Brian, Joseph and his wife. It was the first photo I’d seen of Amber’s mother. She had Amber’s nose and eyes. Amber didn’t have family photos in her room. She didn’t have any photos of herself or her life before the rape anywhere. “But Amber has gone through a lot. First her mother’s death. She and Brian had to see their mother waste away slowly, and then the attack. That leaves scars. I’m not sure what would happen if things between you and her ended badly. A little over two years ago, I came home early from work because of a migraine, and Amber didn’t answer when I called her name. I ran upstairs and found her on the bathroom floor in a pool of her own blood, barely breathing. If I had returned home later, she would have been dead. I don’t ever want to experience that again. Don’t break her heart. I’ve lost my wife, I won’t lose my daughter too.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that. I nodded, feeling as if a heavy weight had been dumped on my chest.

 

Amber

I froze in front of the living room, shocked. I couldn’t believe Dad had made it sound as if Zach could be responsible for another suicide attempt if he left me. It would hurt horribly if things between Zach and me didn’t work out, but I’d come too far to kill myself over something like that. I wanted to live with or without Zach.

I made sure to let them hear my footsteps as I entered the living room. Dad got up at once, smiling. He still looked at me in wonder. “I need to call your aunt.”

I waited until he was gone before I sat down beside Zach. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

He smiled, but it wasn’t as bright as usually. “Your dad is an intimidating guy,” he joked.

I snorted. “No, he isn’t.” Zach didn’t say anything else about the conversation and I didn’t want to bring it up. I wanted to enjoy Thanksgiving.

My aunt and uncle were as surprised about the changes in me as my dad had been. It was wonderful to sit around a table with everyone without having worried glances thrown my way. In the last few years everyone had always waited for me to have a nervous breakdown, but today Zach was the center of attention. Everyone loved them, especially my little cousins. Zach carried them around on his shoulders and told them about his fights. Even Brian laughed like he hadn’t laughed in years. Life was good.