Page 74 of Beautiful Scars

I made myself forget about her, because otherwise I’d be in a padded room where they force you to forget so you don’t try and bash your brains out against your own kneecap.

But he doesn’t get to know that. Him and his sick brother willneverknow about her.

My sweet, darling Grace.

I should never have named her. That’s where I fucked up. It was when I named her that she stopped being an intruder and became a living, breathing part of me.

Grace transformed her from an obscene burden to my darling baby.

Think hate is powerful?

Try loving someone you barely got the chance to meet. Someone who’s only ever communicated with you via heartburn, morning sickness, and the odd kick to the bladder.

And fuck, I loved her.

But thenshetook her from me. Mom snatched her out of my arms like Grace never belonged to me in the first place.

The same mom who couldn’t get on a flight for my first day of school. Who couldn’t take time away from work for my eighth birthday.

But she could board a plane and fly halfway across the world to South Africa just to rip my happiness away.

And God, that fucked me up.

Fractured my mind.

Cillian said he’ll break me?

I’m already broken.

Said he’ll put me back together again?

Impossible.

This puzzle’s missing a piece, and it’s not as if it’s gone and rolled under the couch, either.

Grace is gone forever.

I thought I could find her. That’s why I came here. Suffered throughher. I didn’t want to steal her away, God knows that ship has sailed. I just wanted to know if she was happy. But I couldn’t even...

“…sie? Meisie!”

Fingertips tap my jaw.

I surface from the black pool of memories I’d been wallowing in, coming face to face with the man who had just plunged me under and held me there until I’d almost drowned in that black ink.

I used to get angry when I thought about losing her. Anger quickly changed into depression. Trish prescribed me meds, and they balanced me out.

But now I don’t feel so balanced anymore. Those scales? One side rises while the other is slowly sinking. And I know what’ll happen when it hits the bottom.

Same thing that always does.

Death crooks a skeletal finger and, intrigued at everything He offers, I wander ever closer and closer. Who will pull me back? There’s no one left to talk sense into me. That was Dad’s job, and he’s nowhere near.

All I have is Cillian, and he’s just as broken as I am. The man doesn’t feel a thing.

Cillian, who’s watching me like he doesn’t understand where I went, and why not all of me came back again.

Yeah, welcome to my world.