Page 49 of The Moment You Know

“To my first sale!” Paige said.

After taking a drink of her martini (Jules said martinis were the drink of successful people), Paige gave Jules a look and said, “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“So what if it was?” Jules shrugged. “Someone had to be first and I wanted it to be me. I expect you to sign it, by the way.”

The day her paperback sales reached fifty copies, Paige was a little shocked. It was actually doing better in Kindle Unlimited, but selling actual printed copies seemed like the bigger deal to her because they would actually take up space on someone’s bookshelf.

“Fifty copies!” she whisper-yelled to Sputnik in her apartment, fists in the air. “I know that’s not a lot, but it’s still fifty copies! Strangers are reading what I wrote. That’s so weird and really great! I have an actual following! I might actually be … trending! Can you believe it?”

Sputnik blinked at her, then left the room.

“Where are you going?” she called after him. “Your owner is trending!”

Paige read every single review, touched by the women who told her it was well written, poignant, and inspiring. There were a few that told her she was a whiner, but she ignored them, because what did they know? Nothing, that’s what.

When Paige called to tell Jules of the ‘milestone’, Jules was quick to say they were going out to celebrate. Again.

“You’re buying dinner,” Paige said.

“You’re buying drinks,” Jules countered.

Paige started to agree, then stopped. “Wait. No. I’ll spend more on drinks than you’ll spend on dinner. Let’s switch.”

“Hell no. You’re the one making bank with your book. You can afford it.”

A week later, as Paige held a paperback copy of her book in her hands, she was unable to stop the smile that overtook her face. Even though the book covered a serious topic, her joy at finally setting her voice free made her cry a little.

She had gotten four paperback copies, one for herself and three others to give away.

The first one was for Carter and on the inside cover, she wrote a fairly lengthy message.

Carter:

Note that I’m not addressing you as ‘Uncle’ Carter. In reality, you were never really an uncle.

It haunts me to think how different my life would be if you’d been a regular uncle—and not one who was a filthy, child raping, animal. You violated and defiled me, leaving me feeling unclean, polluted, and contaminated. You did things to me that made me cry and scream. Things that filled me with anger and hatred. Things that made me want to quit living.

You made me into a person I shouldn’t have been. You stole things from me—joy, confidence, innocence, sexuality, and my sense of self. In their place, you left misery, shame, despair, confusion, and a damaged soul.

If I were telling you these things in person, I don’t doubt that you would deny it all, but you know what you did to me … and I know what you did to me. And now that I’ve written and published a book, a lot of other people will, too. A lifetime of secrets are no longer being kept and I am no longer a helpless child, afraid of you.

However, you should be afraid of me. You might not know this, but in our state there is no statute of limitations on prosecuting sexual abuse of a minor—just something for you to tuck away in the back of your mind; it’s certainly something I have tucked in the back of mine.

I spent almost two years in therapy because of you. And while I’m now considered to be ‘healthy’, I’ll probably never be considered ‘healed’, because it’s thought that forgiving your abuser is the only way to fully heal yourself. So I’ll have to live with being healthy, rather than healed, because I’m not forgiving you for shit. Any forgiveness you receive will have to come from God, if He’s so inclined to give it. Now, I know you’re probably not concerned about forgiveness because you’re not a religious man and don’t believe in the existence of God … but what if you’re wrong about that?

Just something else to tuck away in the back of your mind, you sick fuck.

Paige

The second one was for Claire and her message was very brief.

Mother:

This is the truth, even if you choose to bury your head in the fucking sand.

Paige

The third copy was for David and his message actually took the longest to write.

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