Page 80 of Unraveling with You

My shrill tone echoes throughout the living room, but no one can answer my question.

I shake as I choke out harder tears. “If you realized you shouldn’t hurt her, where was my mercy? Why was I different?”

Dad just stands there. I can’t bear to look at him another second, repulsed by his empty guilt. It didn’t stop him from bruising my wrist mere months ago.

Mom’s voice comes out creaky. “Lilibeth, has he hit you? Answer your mother.”

Dad still hasn’t moved. I’m afraid if he does, he’ll keel over. Mom’s answer is right there, in his shame. She just has to finally notice what’s in front of her.

I turn to Mom, afraid to face the growing ache in my chest as I look into her eyes. But as she genuinely searches me for the truth, my heart breaks.

“Would it even change your answer?” I whisper.

Mom’s gaping jaw wavers as she stares me in the eyes. I know the truth is written on my face now, and it’s not that Dad was the only one who hurt me.

“Sorry,” Dad rasps.

My focus zips to his hanging head. Did I imagine he said something?

No, I didn’t. Dad chokes out a soft sob. “I’m so sorry, Lily.”

Remington’s breath has been steadily heightening, but with Dad’s apology, he grips my hand hard, forcing me to blink. I realize it's because I’ve been clinging to him for life until my hand was nearly numb.

But now I know exactly what to do. Even in this terrifying, gut-wrenching confrontation, I’m safe. I’m not alone anymore.

I give Remington’s hand a soft squeeze, releasing him to stand stronger.

“I don't believe your apology. I can’t,” I say. “Maybe ever.”

After a scathing silence, Dad just nods. Mom dissolves into true weeping, clinging to her chest as she stoops over.

I close my eyes. “I need to go home.”

The second I say the word, Remington’s arm swoops around my side, bolstering my strength. His deep, shaking voice soothes my nerves as he turns to my mother. “Lia, if you change your mind, or he ever comes close to laying a hand on you, we’ll be here to care for you in a heartbeat, no questions asked.”

Mom doesn’t answer. She can’t; all she can do is shake her head in disbelief, her quivering fist clamped over her lips.

Remington gently rubs my side, softening his voice. “Let’s go home, baby girl.”

As I meet his dark, nurturing eyes, his pet name hits harder than it ever has. My chest collapses from the pain. Sobs erupt from my lips as Remington guides me down the hall, keeping me standing - giving me the strength to finally walk down this hallway for the last time. He’s supporting me to set myself free.

Footsteps chase us. But they come to an abrupt stop as Remington whips his head around, his rib cage expanding against my side. A flash of fear tenses his muscles, and I suddenly remember Josh’s final outburst on the first day we met - the way it stiffened Remington into fear along with me. Now I know it’s from Ernesto.

I have to hold my heart to not feel like it’s dissolving in my chest. Before Remington has to speak, I harden my tone. “Stay back, Dad.”

Dad’s eyes are wide, as if I’m about to tear out his lungs. “Lilibeth, you have no idea how sorry I am. It’s not you, I just have anger issues, and things just pile up. This isn't how I expected my life to go.”

I have to cling to Remington’s arm, but with his firm grasp on my side, I find the strength to look Dad straight in the eyes. “This isn't how I expected a father to treat me either.”

A pained exhale escapes Remington’s lips. The sound shatters me, allowing me to voice the heart of my pain as my forehead contorts.

“When Rem saw my wrist, he described it perfectly for that little girl in my heart. She just wanted—” My voice shatters. I hiccup through tears as I continue. “I just wanted— to be protected, not bruised.”

Dad’s sunken expression dissolved into nightmarish guilt and horror.

It’s maddening. Even now, he gets to be the one who feels bad. The one who gets to feel hurt, forcing me to carry his pain for him.

As I stare at his worn frame, I realize nothing he can say to amend this will ever feel satisfying enough. He still hurt me, and I can’t change that.

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