Page 132 of This Side of Beautiful

My throat burned, but I pressed on. “Three years ago, I tried to end my life because I had no one.” I held out my wrists. “These tattoos cover the scars from the razors I dragged across my skin. How twisted is that? I had to cause more pain just to stop the pain of believing I was alone. That no one in this world loved me. Especially you.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to stop. “I haven’t spoken to you in four years, and yet, I still pay every bill in this house. Because despite everything, I love you.” My voice cracked, raw and open. “And you’ve never even had the decency to say thank you. And after all that, after everything, you had the nerve to show up at the most important concert of my career with the man who abused me.”

A broken sob tore through my chest, years of agony rising from the depths of me like a storm. “That man had been grabbing my breasts and my ass since the day you brought him into our lives. I did everything I could to avoid him. I wore baggy clothes, stayed out of the house whenever he was around. I sacrificed my own peace just so you could be happy, just so you could finally have a boyfriend.”

I sucked in a sharp breath and let the words spill from the place I had buried them. “And then, that day… he almost raped me.” I locked my gaze onto hers, daring her to look away. “He cornered me in my room, covered my mouth. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t fight him off. He was too strong. And then I heard your keys in the door, and I thought… finally, she will see. Finally, she will know the truth.

“But you didn’t protect me.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “You beat me. Like I had stolen your child-molesting boyfriend from you.”

I took a slow step forward. She took one back. Her eyes shimmered, but I had long since stopped hoping for tears that meant anything.

“What happened to you to make you this way?” My voice was quieter now, but no less fierce. “Did someone hurt you? Did Grandma treat you like this? What did I do to deserve this, Mama?” I hit my chest, the ache unbearable. “I used to be so proud to be your daughter. I used to perform every single show like you were watching, even though you never came to one. Not one.”

I swallowed hard. “And the only time you did show up, you came to destroy me.”

I let the silence stretch between us, let the weight of my words settle into the cracks of a foundation that had been broken for as long as I could remember. Then, finally, I breathed.

“But not anymore.” My voice steadied. “I am worthy of so much more than how you treated me. I am worthy of love. Real love. From a good man. From a real family.”

I exhaled long and deep, stepping back. “This is the last time I will ever speak to you, and I am at peace with that.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand, as if physically clearing away the years of grief. “This house? It’s in Rashad’s name now. Whether he keeps it or sells it, that’s his decision. But I won’t let you come between us anymore. I want to know my nieces and nephew. I want to be the aunt they deserve.”

And just like that, the weight lifted.

I threw my hands in the air, my chest rising with a feeling I had never known before… freedom. I jumped once, then again, letting out a shout so full, so uninhibited, I could have sworn I felt the presence of something greater than myself. This. This was what it meant to be free.

Mama stood frozen like a statue, as if she were unable to say anything.

“Bye, Mama.” I didn’t wait for a response and strode out of the house with my head held high.

When I stopped at my brother’s open window, our mother wordlessly watched us.

Rashad glanced between me and her. “Are you okay?”

“I will be fine.” The residual hurt of not having a good relationship with my mother would still be there. I would just have to focus on those who loved me, like my brother.

“Did she answer your questions?”

“I never expected her to.”

Rashad shook his head and started his car. I walked to mine, and soon we left the home while she stared after us.

Los Angeles

August 19

Loneliness loomed whenever I thought too hard about what I’d given up. Then there were days when I wasn’t sure Ihadgiven up. Landon had seemed so certain he wasn’t the man for me and couldn’t handle my big career. It made fighting for him seem futile. Some days, I raged at him. Other days, I only wanted to crawl into bed with him. My meds were keeping the edge off and allowing me to sleep. Or maybe because my emotions were entwined with relief from confronting my mother and joy at being the aunt I’d always wanted to be, initially, I didn’t feel the doom and gloom of losing Landon, the wounded ache of a breakup with a man with whom I could see forever.

When August rolled around, I started falling apart after no contact from him. I had been sure he would call and check on me as a friend or as my life jacket. I had crying spells and negative thoughts about my ability to have a lasting relationship. I didn’t crave drugs, only Landon. Del or my brother called me every day to check in. I told Del I needed until September to move forward. He argued that the sooner I returned to work, the sooner I could function again. I had to continue striking while the iron was hot. Del tried to goad me by telling me that Landon had rejoined The Hollow Bones and was preparing to promote their new album, and that I needed to show him I was good, too. All that did was remind me of being with him and what we’d lost.

I was in bed watching episodes ofInsecurefor the twentieth time, empathizing with Issa’s longing for Lawrence, when someone knocked on my door. Fear coursed through my veins, and I could hear Landon’s voice admonishing me for not hiring security, since, somehow, people knew where I lived.

I checked the camera on my bedside table and released a sigh of relief. Frankie.

Rising out of bed, I threw a silk robe over my pajamas and opened the door without speaking, then dropped down on my sofa and patted the space beside me. Frankie shook her head and held her arms out. “I hug when I haven’t seen friends in a long time.”

Joy loosened some of the persistent tightness in my chest as I eagerly rose to hug her tight. “I wanted to reach out and apologize a trillion times. I just didn’t know how. Never had girlfriends before.”

“Picking up the phone works wonders.” Frankie pulled back from the embrace and studied me. “This hair is a mess, and you look like crap. One friend to another.”

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