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"You remembered," Wendy said, and Jessica remained muted at her side, looking at something on the floor.
"Yeah, I did."
"And how do you feel about everything?"
Frustrated, tired and hungry. I threw my hands in the air.
"How does it look like I'm feeling? Like shit!" I made an attempt to wipe the wet trails off my face, but I only made it worse, the back of my hand turning black from smudged mascara. "Look, I know he's your friend, but I don't ever want to see him again. The only thing that ever came out of his mouth that I believed to be true was when he told me you were good people. And I need help."
This time Jessica took the lead of the conversation.
"Girl, like it or not, you're part of the group. How can we help?"
It took a couple of seconds to overcome the knot in my throat.
"I have nowhere to go." Overwhelming shame struck me. I was tired of hanging on others.
Without another word, Wendy took my hand and dragged me in, shutting the door behind us, and Jessica wrapped me in a bathrobe.
"Umm, Jessica, you only have panties on," I said, and Wendy giggled at my side.
"Yeah, whatever, we're all women here, and you must be freezing. Go with Wendy to the kitchen so she can pump some hot fluids into you. Our guest room only has a shower, but I'll draw you a bath in the tub in the master bath."
Ugh, a bath could be the only thing to save my sanity today.
"Jess, I can take a shower."
"Shut up. Tea, bath and we can talk after."
Could we talk never? I was done talking. I needed fixing. Fixing up my shattered life. But I nodded gratefully because my chest felt a little lighter now than it did when I was licking my wounds in the park.
"I need one more favor. Please don't tell him where I am, I can't..."
They both sighed and looked at each other anxiously.
"Let's compromise; we'll tell James you're here, so he knows you're safe, but both me and Jess promise that we won't allow him to get closer to you if you don't want to."
"I don't want to, and the moment you tell him I'm staying with you, James will be at your door."
"Have you met my wife? Jessica will kick him in the balls if he pushes her too hard." Yeah, I could see it happening.
After three cups of tea, I sank myself in a steamy bath, trying to relax my muscles and my mind, but it was not working. While my body went limp, my mind started running faster. Trujillo, James, the beating, Cuba, me, Chelsea. It was like I was stuck in a loop of torment, and all I could do was cry. I was starting to get pissed at myself for all this whining because I was not that kind of woman. I had suffered a lot. I had my ribs broken under the fists of a man that swore in front of God that he'd take care of me, and yes, sometimes tears would fall but not like this and not so many.
So why? Because now I was not suffering, no. Now I was mourning. Before my body was hurt, and it sucked; it broke something in me that might never be whole again - the fear might stay with me forever - but I always knew that somewhere, there was a way out. I just had to find it. Now I felt like that way out just closed. My heart lost so much. I lost the man I loved - I did - because how could I ever believe a word he said? He used me. I was lost and confused, and he took advantage of my body and my weak mind. It didn’t matter how much I loved him, or in how many ways he could make me cum; he used me as his puppet.
What would happen to my baby when I left - now that I've left? I kept trying to tell myself that she was not mine, but I knew that I would give my life, every drop of Cuban blood I carried, without hesitation, for that baby girl. The thought of going forward without her was unbearable.
Chelsea’s cry was the last thing I heard in my head before drifting into a restless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I woke up when Jessica pinched my nose, and I was confused as fuck.
"What?"
"You fell asleep in the tub. Come on, the water is cold, and you look like a raisin." Oh, how appetizing.
"I am naked, turn around."
