Page 4 of Saving You

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Thanks, Lil, love you.”

“Love you too. See you soon.”

I hang up and pour myself a cup of much-needed caffeine. I want to spend the weekend with my girl, but I don’t want her to see me like this. Hopefully, after a couple of days, it will all look better. Taking my coffee into the living room, I settle on the couch and turn on one of my shows.

Twenty minutes later, the front door opens and Lily walks in. She stops at the entrance to the living room. I hear her sharp intake of breath all the way across the room, and it breaks me. A sob leaves me, and Lily is beside me in an instant, holding me and softly brushing her hand through my hair. I lean into her, absorbing her strength.

After I catch my breath, I tell Lily about what happened with Derek. I can’t look her in the face as I recount the story. I fidget with my fingers in my lap. When I finish, she pulls me into her again and I rest my head on her shoulder.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” Lily’s words turn my stomach. How can she say that? I’m the one who brought Derek into my life and, in turn, Charlie’s life. I’m the one who didn’t just listen to him yesterday and talk to him like he wanted. If I had given in, maybe it would have turned out differently.

“Bailey, get out of your head. This was not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of someone else.”

I nod, but her words don’t fully seep in.

“Aunt Lily!” Charlie yells from the top of the stairs. She rushes down and throws herself onto Lily’s lap, wrapping her arms around her neck.

“Hi, sweet pea. What do you think about spending the weekend with Aunt Lily? We can go get pancakes for breakfast!”

“Yay!” Charlie screams.

“Why don’t you go get dressed and pack a bag and then we can head out?” That’s all it takes for Charlie to scramble off Lily’s lap and run right back upstairs.

“Thanks, Lil,” I say.

“Anytime, you know that, hun.” She leans down and places a quick kiss on my forehead before she joins Charlie to help her pack.

As I’m plating my breakfast, I hear them come down the stairs, and the next thing I know, Charlie is wrapping herself around my legs. I remove myself from her grip and crouch down to her height, wrapping her in my arms.

“I love you, Baby Girl,” I whisper in her ear before releasing her.

“Are you okay, Mommy?”

“Of course, Baby Girl. Now go have fun with Aunt Lily. Be good for her.” With a quick kiss on her cheek, I send her off.

I spend my weekend doing a lot of nothing. I relax in the bath and on the couch, reading or watching TV. By Sunday evening, my face isn’t as swollen and my cuts don’t look as bad. The bruises can be covered with makeup, so I decide to still go to work tomorrow. Lily has agreed to keep Charlie for the night and drop her off at school in the morning on her way to work.

Monday morning, I gently apply makeup to my face,covering my bruises as much as possible. Thankfully, I make it through my workday without anyone asking questions. I’m so happy to pick up my Baby Girl. When she sees me outside her school, she runs to me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck, and I chuckle. She’s stronger than you’d think.

“I missed you, Mommy!”

“I missed you, too, Baby Girl.”

I give her a quick squeeze before pulling back and placing a kiss on her forehead. I get her settled in the car and we make our way home. My girl brightens my day. She is sitting in the back of the car singing along to the music, just enjoying her life. After we make our way inside, I get her settled at the kitchen table doing her homework and fix her a snack.

I’m folding laundry on the couch when she comes and sits beside me.

“What’s up, Baby Girl?”

“Mommy, can we bring Caleb cookies? Today at school we talked about Thanksgiving and what we are thankful for. I want to say thank you to Caleb.”

Something catches in my throat. My sweet girl has spent her day wanting to thank the man who came and saved us from her father. I remember the feeling of safety that washed over me looking into his steel-grey eyes. His large frame towered over my five-foot-three body, but I didn’t feel a need to cower. His blond hair was cut short on the sides but had length on top. I wanted to run my fingers through it and feel how soft it is.

I shake my head. I’m not in my right mind. He saved us from a scary experience, and I’m projecting feelings onto him because of it.

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