After Reese was changed, I went and warmed up a bottle. Then, as I fed her and tried my best to soothe the troubled girl, I picked up the letter. A letter that broke my heart with every single word that was written in black ink.
Emery,
I only left five minutes before you’re reading this. I saw you pull up from work and went out the back way. I just hope you understand that I can’t do this. I can’t look at her without seeing him. I cannot hold her, without remembering him holding me down. I cannot be the woman that she needs, I cannot be her mother. I tried, and I know you might think that this is something that’s going to pass, but it’s not. I can’t do this. I can’t. I got some paperwork filled out to leave you as her guardian. You’re the right one for this job, and I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else. As far as me, I’m going off to make a new life for myself. I’m going to find my footing in a new city, and I’m going to begin again.
Please take care of her.
Raise her as your own.
You’re the mother she deserves.
That’s not my daughter. She is yours.
I’m sorry for leaving, but you both are better off.
—Sammie
My teardrops hit the wrinkled paper as I stared down at the words that shattered every piece of me. Then, I went through the apartment and realized that all of Sammie’s things were gone—including her suitcases.
I called Mama to see if she’d gone home.
She hadn’t. Mama told me to keep her out of whatever issues Sammie and I were going through. I told her that Sammie was gone, and then she told me it was probably my fault before she hung up the call.
Sammie didn’t come home that night, or any of the nights that followed. She never came back, leaving me with a child to raise on my own and forcing me to drop out of school. Each night, Reese wailed, almost as if she knew Sammie had abandoned her. Late one sleepless night, as I tried my best to soothe the upset child, I cried along with her.
Around two in the morning, I heard a knocking at my door, and my heart skipped a beat. I hoped it was Sammie, finally coming back to her senses. Since she’d left, I’d found a list of organizations that could help her through her struggles. I’d made many calls and gathered a lot of information for both victims of rape and new mothers.
I wanted to give it all to her, I wanted to help her heal, I wanted to do whatever I could to bring my little sister back to me.
Yet when I opened the door, it wasn’t Sammie standing there. It was a woman I’d seen a few times in the building before.
“You’re having trouble keeping that baby quiet,” the woman said.
I was flustered, knowing that Reese had been quite vocal the past few days and that the walls of our apartment building weren’t the greatest.
“I know, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to—” I started, but she cut me off.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not here to complain,” she said, shaking her head with a genuine smile against her lips. “I’m here to help. I noticed that your roommate moved out a few weeks ago, and I figured you were struggling. My name is Abigail. Can I come in?”
I nodded slowly, beyond my breaking point. “I am sorry about the crying, though. This hasn’t been the most normal situation.”
“You have a newborn. There’s nothing normal about newborns. I think you’re doing great, truly, but I just wanted to reach out and offer my help if you needed it.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said, still trying to soothe the panicked child.
“May I?” she asked, nodding toward Reese.
I was hesitant at first, but something about that woman seemed so gentle and caring. I handed Reese over, and within minutes, the woman had calmed her down.
A sigh of relief rippled through my system as the crying came to a halt. In response, I began to cry. The flood of emotions escaped my body as I covered my face, humiliated by my inability to keep myself together in front of a stranger.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I took the now-sleeping Reese from her arms and laid her in the crib. “I’m normally not like this.”
“You are today, and that’s normal too. There’s no wrong way to feel,” she told me. “So, go ahead. Feel it all.”
That allowance, that gift of being told that every feeling was valid, sent a wave throughout my system, and I began to truly fall apart. I covered my face with my hands and began to break. For so long, I’d been trying to hold my sister together, trying to keep Reese in one piece, that I hadn’t had any time to fall apart myself.
Abigail came over to me and wrapped me in her arms, soothing me as I cried like a fool against her shoulder. “That’s right, sweetie, feel it all,” she repeated, and I did.
I felt it all. I felt the fear, I felt the anxiety, I felt the sadness. I felt anger, too, and resentment toward my sister. I felt hurt. Abandoned. Lost.
I felt it all, and Abigail was there to help me through it.
“You probably have no clue what’s happening right now. You probably feel like you’re falling apart, but in truth, this is you falling together, sweetheart. Sometimes, part of the healing journey involves falling apart. That doesn’t make you weak; it makes you strong. So, fall apart tonight, and you’ll be stronger for tomorrow. You’re doing great.”
To hear someone say I was doing great as I sobbed against her shoulder felt untrue; it felt like the biggest lie in the world, but I did as she said. I felt it all.
34
EMERY
Present Day
Oliver: Do you need me to come over?
Emery: No. I’m okay.
Oliver: Do you need me to come over?
Emery: No. I’m probably just going to fall asleep.
Oliver: Do you need me to come over?
Emery: Oliver. I’m fine. Really.
Oliver: Okay.
Knock, knock, knock.
I looked up from my cell phone as I sat in bed. Then I headed to the front door and opened it to find Oliver standing there, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” I replied.
He took my hands into his and stepped in closer to me. His forehead rested against mine, and he closed his eyes as mine faded shut too. “Do you need me to come over,” he softly spoke, his hot breaths brushing against my lips.
I nodded slowly, releasing a weighted breath that I hadn’t even known I’d been holding in. “Yes.”
He stayed with me as I cried against his white T-shirt. Over and over again, he told me Reese was my daughter and I was her mom, reasoning away the demonic thoughts that were flooding my system. When my body became too exhausted, when no more tears could be cried, he held me close throughout the remainder of the night.
The next morning, it wasn’t the sun that pulled me from my slumber. It was a little girl, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Mr. Mith! What are you doing in Mama’s bed?” she shouted, jumping on the bed.
“Reese, volume, lower,” I muttered, only able to get out a few words due to my exhaustion. Then I yawned and focused a bit on Reese. Who was on my bed. Right beside Oliver.
Oliver.
In my bed.
Reese.
In my bed.
Oh hell.
“Reese!” I said, sitting up straight. Oliver was rubbing his eyes and trying to piece together what was going on. “What are you doing up so early?”