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23
Alexis
Lowering into my chair, I stare at the letter lying on my desk as if it’s a bomb waiting to go off. I’m dreading it. I don’t want to know what the words will reveal to me, but if Lucas was courageous enough to write it, I have to suck it up and be courageous enough to read it. My hands are shaky when I open it.
Alexis,
I’m sorry about the abrupt ending of my last letter. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore and had to call Eric to pick me up. At least I was so exhausted I fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.
This next part I’m not going into detail. It’s not something I want to think about ever, but I know to be able to go forward, I have to somehow confront the past and let go of all the demons in my life. At least that’s what my therapist says. Not her words exactly, but the meaning is the same. I know I keep calling her ‘my therapist’ instead of her name, but ….
Anyway, time I channeled my inner Braveheart and just get this next part over with. I did get to feel a hand that night, and I wish I could say it was Alice’s hand, but it wasn’t. I was confused, it felt so wrong, so dirty, but at the same time, so good. Once again, the way Mom spoke to me, so calm and soothing, made it feel, I don’t know. A lot of messed up and bad things. I don’t know if there’s really a word that exists that can explain how I felt. I mean, I was the man of the house, right?
So I let her do it to me the next night and the night after. Just a hand slipped into my sleep shorts, a hand I could pretend belonged to Alice. One night I refused to go to her bed and slept in mine, but she woke me up when she climbed into bed with me. With her hand on me, she whispered that as the man of the house, I deserved to be treated as such. She said that for years I had made her so happy and looked after her, and it was now her turn to do the same.
The next night, I was back in bed with her. I told myself that whatever was happening in her room was somehow apart from the real world, almost like a pretend world, like if I pretended hard enough I was Dad and she was my wife.
It wasn’t long before it became more than a hand. I remember lying rigid in the dark, waiting for that hand that I both loved and hated at the same time. It never came, and eventually, I fell asleep equally parts relieved and worried that I’d maybe done something wrong. I was woken sometime later with my shorts around my knees and her mouth doing all sorts of things to me.
God, I wish I could say I was strong, that I pushed her away, I don’t know, punched her or ran away, but I didn’t. Like the coward I was, I just lay there and let her do to me what she wanted.
That was just the beginning, really. As time went by she did more and more, and the more she did, the angrier I became.
I needed an outlet for all that darkness and rage inside me, and unfortunately for Alice, I found one in her. We did things in that janitors cupboard that no fourteen-year-old should do. Whatever Mom did to me, I did to her, and in some sick, twisted way, it made me feel better about everything.
Mostly Alice was willing, but there were things that I had to bulldoze her into doing, and those were the times I enjoyed it the most.
Mom was ruining my life, and in turn, I was ruining someone else.
That’s where I’m ending this tonight. I know you most probably hate me right now, but I love you, Alexis. More than anything in this world.
***
I fling the letter away from me as if it’s on fire and lower my head into my shaking hands. Is it possible to actually hear a heart breaking? It was bad enough when I found out Lucas was cheating on me, but this? This is on a whole different level.
I want to go back in time and protect the boy he was from the horror no child should face. I want to scoop him up and run. Keep him safe. Suddenly, the urge to see Lizzy is overwhelming, and I jump up and rush to her room. I stop outside her door to collect myself, taking a deep breath and wiping the tears from my cheeks. I didn’t realize I was crying. When I feel a little more put together, I creep inside. She’s stretched out on her back, one arm flung out to the side, her mouth slightly parted. I sit down slowly, not wanting to wake her up. I just want to touch her…reassure myself that she’s okay. Running my hand across her hair soothes me, and it takes a few minutes before I calm down a bit.
For the first time since everything imploded, I ache to have Lucas here. To pull him into my arms and hold on as tight as I can. To reassure him he is loved. Because despite everything that’s happened between us, I still love him. If I didn’t, I would have felt indifference over his cheating, not hate. Love is not a switch you can just turn on and off.
Lizzy mumbles in her sleep and turns on her side. Not wanting her to wake up, I take that as my cue to leave. I know I won’t be able to sleep, so I head to the staircase, but hesitate.
Minutes later, I’m on our porch, my arms wrapped around me, watching the letter turn to ash. I know burning it won’t change anything—won’t make anything better, but I don’t want any trace of it remaining. My shock at what was revealed in it has turned to anger. No, anger is too gentle a word for what I’m feeling. It’s rage, and I want to go back in time and burn the woman who was supposed to protect him from the face of the earth.
Turn her life to ash just like she did his.
