“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Vince sneers.
“Dramatic? You think that…” I point to the wall he pinned me against, to the fireplace he nearly threw me into. “…is dramatic?”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes at me, like I am the ridiculous one, but my stare never strays from his.
“Get your shoes on, Jack. Go to the car.”
His eyes shift quickly over to our son but return to me. “Don’t you leave, Jack,” Vince says in what he obviously thinks is a commanding voice, but in reality, Jack has, no doubt, lost all respect for his father.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Jack says to me, his arm going under my arms to hold me up when my legs start to go weak.
“You aren’t taking my son.”
“I am,” I say as Jack and I start to back away toward the front door. I am grateful I still had on my tennis shoes from my busy day, and one quick glance down shows me that Jack has his on as well.
“You can’t do this. I’ll call the police. They’ll arrest you for kidnapping,” he says.
“Vince.” The sound of Jack calling his father by his given name causes me to blink hard. It brings everything that is happening to a screeching halt.
Vince’s eyes widen, his face reddening. “What did you call me, boy? You show your dad resp—”
Jack cuts him off before he can even finish the word. “Respect? Really? I just watched you choke my mom, hit her, pin her to a wall, then throw her across the room! Not to mention what I heard you say to her. Screw you!” he shouts, pointing a finger at Vince. “You wanna call the police? Fine. Go for it. I’ll be damn glad to share everything I just witnessed with them.”
Well, that answers my question as to how much he saw and heard. Pretty much everything, from the sounds of it.
“They won’t believe you,” Vince tries to reason.
“Yeah? Sorry, but the blood and bruises that are covering Mom tell me differently.”
I have no idea where my son’s strength comes from, but it gives me the courage that I need to stand up for both of us.
“Vince,” I say and wait until he turns to face me. For a slight second, I swear I see regret flash across his face before it’s gone. I move slightly in front of Jack, reaching behind me to place my hand on his arm. “I’m only going to say this one time. We. Are. Done. Don’t come after us. Don’t mistake this for some argument or misunderstanding. Say goodbye to Jack.”
“Jack,” his voice cracks. The flash of regret is back, only now it lingers and pain is included. He knows he’d stepped over the line, knows his mistake, and maybe a small part of him has some sort of remorse, some pang of guilt. Seeing the disappointment in his son’s eyes as he looks at the man who he once looked up to apparently makes him realize what he’s done. But it changes nothing. What has happened today is irreversible.
“Bye, Vince,” Jack says with conviction, making my heart break for him.
He turns me around, grabs my purse from the hook by the door, and hands it to me. We walk into the garage, climb into the car and still haven’t said a word to one another.
It isn’t until we are a few miles away that the reality of what just transpired takes hold. My hands shaking, the sobs begin to wrack my aching body so suddenly. I pull over to the side of the road and look over to see my son’s shoulders shaking. Jack has tears streaming down his face as I lean over and grab his hand.
“Jack…”
He reaches up with his free hand and swipes angrily at his face and looks over at me. In a shaky voice, he says, “Don’t, Mom. Don’t make excuses for him. Don’t apologize. Just… don’t.”
“Okay.” My voice is quiet, allowing him the time he needs to digest everything he’s witnessed.
Jack squeezes my hand and shifts his gaze on me, tears still streaming from his eyes. He sniffs and wipes under his nose with the back of his hand then shakes his head. “I don’t want to know how long it’s been going on. I don’t care if that’s the first time or the hundredth time. That’s done. I mean it, Mom. That’s. Done. Never again.”
“Okay,” I say again.
“I mean it, Mom. That’s done. Never again,” he repeats.
I am not sure why he repeated everything he just said, whether it is for my reassurance or his. It doesn’t matter, I understand how serious it is. How serious he is.
“Never again, Jack,” I assure him.
“I won’t let it happen.” His voice is no longer shaky but full of what almost sounds like fury.
“I know you won’t. I won’t either. I promise,” I assure him, squeezing his hand again.
“Promise?” And with those words, I am instantly reminded of just how young he is.
“I promise.”
Whatever he sees when he looks into my eyes must be enough. He releases my hand and blows out a deep breath and nods once. “Okay,” he says and takes another deep breath. “Okay.”
And right now I know. I will never again allow myself to trust a man with my heart the way I trusted Vince. I will never open myself up like that and I will never, ever allow my son to see anything like that again.