Page 49 of Waiting for Redemption

My eyes snap back open as I can feel the air getting thinner as the pressure from his weight increases, but no matter how much my heart was aching before, it completely shatters when I see Hendrix out of my peripheral vision.

“Mommy! Mommy!” he screams, making me wish I could somehow break free—that I could turn him around so he doesn’t have to see this, and tell him we’re going to be okay. But, I have no air left to even whisper those words when crocodile tears start pouring down his cheeks. He yells out once more, “Tank, STOP! YOU’RE HURTING HER!” And like that day in the park, he comes running up and kicks Tank in the shin. By some miracle, that pulls Tank back from whatever memory he was facing and he pulls his arm away, taking a few steps back as he does.

I take in a deep breath, coughing once before I try taking in another. Hendrix turns to me, wrapping his arms around my waist as I squeeze him close, rubbing my hand along his back to let him know I’m okay.

He tries to apologize. He tries to come to me. But my defenses are up so high, he couldn’t possibly get over them. I can feel my heart breaking more with every word out of his mouth. Every desperate plea for me to hear him out, every apology for hurting me crushed my spirit a little more, but my son is watching. He’s seeing what is acceptable and forgivable behavior, and right now, my mind can’t make up what is and what isn’t.

“Ruby, please–”

“I can’t, Tank. I… I can’t. You have to understand that, please.” My sobs are completely consuming me while it feels like my heart is being crushed under the weight of the world.

“Honey, please...”

God, I can’t fucking take this.

No matter what’s happened, I still can’t look at him and see how much he’s hurting without wanting to kiss away the pain. But I can’t do that—Ihaveto be stronger than that.

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is. Can’t you see how this is killing me?” I whisper, breaking my own heart as I send him away. He stares at me a little longer, blinking rapidly as tears keep falling down his face. Once he finally leaves and the door shuts behind him, I take a deep breath and drop down to Hendrix’s level.

“Hey, are you okay?” He shakes his head up and down, being the brave little soldier that he is. “You can tell me if you’re not okay. I know that was a little scary.” I remind him, giving him a safe space to share how he’s feeling.

“I’m sad, Mommy. Why did he do that?” he asks, hanging his head.

“I don’t really know, baby.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, doing my best to keep my composure.

“He said he would never hurt you… but he did. He said he would protect you because you’re one of his important people. Was it an accident?” he asks, showing me yet again what an old soul he truly has.

“I don’t really know. Maybe it was.” He stares back at me with his big brown eyes and they’re so full ofconcern. Not the fear I would expect from a kid after such an event. He wraps his little arms around my neck, squeezing me ever so gently as he whispers in my ear.

“We’re okay, Mommy. We’re safe.” The same words I always whisper to him when he’s hurt or sad. I always let him know he’s safe with me, and at this moment I’m so proud of the little man I’m raising. I fight back more tears, as I pull back to look at his sweet face.

“I tell you what, why don’t you go ahead and turn on Spider-Man in Mommy’s room and I’ll order us a pizza.” His face lights up as I smile back at him.

“Yes!” He runs down the hallway and as soon as I hear the TV turn on I slide down to the floor with my hand over my mouth, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to escape.

We were so close.

I know Tank—at least IthoughtI knew Tank—he’s been one of my best friends for almost two years, and whatever happened here tonight wasn’t him at all. It’s taking everything in me not to call him to see if he’s okay. To tell him we’ll be okay and that once he works through whatever is haunting his mind, I’ll be here. But the truth is, I can’t do any of those things. Because I don’t know if we’ll be okay. I don’t know if he’ll actually find someone to talk to and work through this. And I don’t know if we’ll ever come back to a place to giveusanother shot.

Because tonight I saw the man I thought I could potentially love turn into someone I could fear, and I’m worried that all I’ll see when I look at him is the guy with vacant eyes and his arm against my throat.

But he’s so much more to me than that.

My heart is shattered into more pieces than there is glass on my kitchen floor, and I can barely muster up the energy to stop crying long enough to clean it and order a pizza. But being a mom is weird in that way. No matter how severely broken you are, you find the will to pick up the pieces and be there for your kid. It’s me and him against the world. Always has been, and always will be.

As soon as I set my phone down from ordering our dinner, and my tears have finally dried, I glance over to see the picture Hendrix drew while we were making dinner. I walk over to the table and pick it up, and my eyes immediately begin to burn with more tears.

I didn’t think I had any left in me.

Before I have the chance to fall apart all over again, Hendrix pulls out the seat next to me.

“Aw, man. I forgot to give Tank his picture,” he says simply. As I place my fingertips on the edge, pulling it closer to me.

“That’s okay, Buddy. I’m sure we’ll get it to him soon.” I assure him, forcing a smile as I look back down at the picture of Tank, Hendrix and me playing soccer together.

So. So. Close.

I toss and turn all night, unable to get Tank out of my head. The night replays over and over and the tears just don’t stop coming. Between what happened with us, and the memory that forced its way out of my past, I was staring at the ceiling until sunrise.

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