Epilogue
Quinn
Three Months Later
“Babe,” Lucas drawls as he rounds the front of the truck and takes my outstretched hand. “You really don’t have to do this with me. I don’t want to upset you.”
I glance up at the gravestones and turn back to him with a smile. “It’s not upsetting me, Lucas. I’m here for you. Always.”
“But after everything he put you through…” His voice trails off as his gaze flicks to Clay’s grave. “I don’t expect you to come with me.”
Rolling my eyes, I grab the bouquet of flowers from the seat and close the door to the truck before turning toward the grave with his hand in mine. It won’t do me any good to continue arguing with him - something I’ve learned countless times over the past three months. He’s so careful not to say or do anything that might trigger memories in me that I have to show him that I really am okay before he will actually believe it.
“Let’s go,” I urge, stretching my arm out in front of us and he sighs. As we walks across the grass with the early morning dew still clinging to its blades, my mind drifts back to Clay’s funeral. It was another instance where Lucas tried to keep me from going in an effort to protect me but I refused. Part of loving this man is standing by his side even when it’s uncomfortable for me. Not that I didn’t get anything from the service. As I listened to Lucas and Iris tell stories from Clay’s childhood, something happened inside me - almost like he became two different people. The first, Lucas’s little brother - a sweet, funny, charismatic boy who had been hurt more than any person ever should and the second, the man who was being eaten alive by that pain until he had no other choice but to lash out to free himself from some of it.
If I learned anything that night in the boxcar, it was that what Clay did to me was never about power or malice. It wasn’t even all that sexual. He was just someone in a tremendous amount of pain and when he couldn’t take it any more, he tried to find some comfort in something other than the drugs he had relied on for years but because of the drugs, he did something he never would have done sober. As the man I love said good-bye to his brother, I was able to forgive him - not only for myself but for Clay, too. I sincerely hope that Lucas was right. I hope Clay is free and finally at peace now somewhere beyond the clouds with their mother by his side.
Besides, in a weird turn of events, I suppose I’m even thankful for what he did.
Yes, it was horrific and the single worst thing I’ve ever experienced but through that night, I gained Brooklyn and no matter how she was conceived, she’s been one of the biggest blessings in my life. Glancing over at the other biggest blessing I’ve found, I squeeze his hand and smile. I went through hell when Clay raped me but it led me here - to the family that I’ve always wanted and I couldn’t be happier.