by Ann, Bry
“I love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart.”
“Sorry I was gone again…”
I spin in her arms and take her shoulders in my hands.
“Don’t ever apologize to me for that.”
She nods and wraps me in a real hug that I return.
“Let’s go see your mom. We can talk tonight?”
“Yeah, she’s been… nice.”
“Very nice.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I kiss her lips because, well, her green eyes are shining up at me, expecting it, and I wouldn’t want to let her down.
Now would I?
* * *
Essie
One Year Later
I stare at myself in the full-length mirror in front of me. Ripped black skinny jeans, a tight, long-sleeve black t-shirt, a purple choker, Converse, and a beanie all cover my body. I'm still not used to seeing myself this way.
I'm used to being a victim. I don’t know when that became my preferred identity. It takes all the therapy in the world to get me to stand tall, shoulders back, and act like I'm somehow worthy. They tell me it’ll take time. Fake it ‘til you make it. So I do. Even when I don’t want to. Because when I curl inwards, a sadness washes over Landon. And I figure he’s had enough worry in his life with Evie. I don’t want to make it worse than I'm naturally going to. So I suck it up, I don’t play the victim role and I talk to my team. I have a whole fucking team helping me. I owe it to them to try.
But it’s still weird to see myself fed, shining skin and hair, fully clothed. It’s just not right somehow. In my head, at least.
“Essie! Are you okay up there?” comes Landon’s voice from downstairs. “We don’t have to do this. I can tell the boys to fuck off.”
I smile to myself. “Not necessary!” I call down.
Yanking my beanie down a bit more, I step out of the room and climb down the stairs. Landon’s at the bottom, leaning against the railing. As soon as he sees me, he smiles.
“Hey, there you are. You look beautiful.”
My heart does that weird fluttering thing again. I feel giddy at his compliment, but on the outside, I just shrug.
“Thanks.”
“I made chicken wings, a vegetable platter, then there’s the homemade guac you made.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I like this,” he murmurs, tracing my face with his thumb. I did my makeup. Landon hasn’t mentioned the makeup thing to me again, but I know he will. Just like I knew he’d notice my attempt at makeup after all this time.
“I'm out of practice,” I whisper, face turned down and blushing.
“I’d never be able to tell.”
Ding-dong!
“That’s probably Kyle.”
Landon goes to the door with me on his heels. He swings the door open and there stands a whole crowd of people. Kyle’s there with his girl on his arm, but with him is Collin and his pregnant wife, Arabella. Arabella was in an accident over a year ago and is paralyzed from the waist down, so she’s in a wheelchair. Brad is also there with Cooper. I don’t know them that well, so I focus on Collin and Kyle to keep my nerves at bay. As if sensing my anxiety, Landon loops his fingers through mine.
“Hey guys, come on in. Game’s on in ten.”
Forcing myself to be brave, I remove myself from Landon so he can catch up with Kyle. I know he wants to. He glances back at me to make sure I'm good as I walk away, heart beating fast.
I don’t know Arabella, really, and she tends to hang with the men, so I go to the kitchen and kinda hide out.
Literally two minutes later, I hear a familiar voice that kind of makes me smile, despite our rough start.
“Don’t worry, y’all! I am here!”
I smirk into my wine glass. Evie’s here.
“Where’s Essie?”
I hear Landon say something, but no one is as loud as a recovering Evie Parker.
“Over here!” I call.
Footsteps echo, and then there’s Evie in all her bright glory. She’s my opposite in every way. Her clothes are all baggy, pastels in contrast with my almost too tight, all black attire. She’s still a tiny little thing, she still struggles, but she’s miles ahead of the gaunt woman I met over a year ago.
“Hey!” she smiles. I swear she and her brother are the male and female versions of the same person.
“I can’t believe we got roped into some stupid football party. Ugh. But Carson loves football, so…” She shrugs.
“Landon made a veggie platter for you and he set up a movie upstairs in case you get bored.”
She smiles and fidgets with the strings on her light orange hoodie.
“He’s the best. How are you?”
“Yo, Evie, Essie, you have a guest!”
Shiloh.
That means… I meet Evie’s gaze. Ellie.
I run from the kitchen into the living room. Sure enough, standing here in a frilly white dress, two curled pigtails, and ribbon-tied tennis shoes, is Ellie Reynolds.
“Aunt Essie!” she screams, running at me and hugging my legs. “I missed you. You have to come see me more.”
“We don’t live super close, sweetie.”
“Don’t care. We’re family. We figure it out.”
“Touché, Ellie,” comes from over my shoulder.
“Miss Evie.”
Ellie moves from me to hug Evie, but she keeps glancing back at me.
“Wait! I have a good idea! Group hug!”
Ellie grabs my pant leg and pulls me into them. Before I can process anything, two sets of arms are wrapped around me. I meet Landon’s eyes over Evie’s shoulder and he winks as he brings a beer to his lips.
His fucking beautiful lips.
“Pizza’s here!” Carson yells.
“Let’s join ‘em,” Evie mutters.
I nod. We all take our respective seats as the dudes put on the game. I grab a slice of pizza and stuff a fourth of it in my mouth in one bite. Whoops?
“That’s hot,” Landon purrs in my ear.
“Control yourself.” I give him a flat look, but inside, I'm smiling and the fucker knows it.
Evie and Kyle laugh about something with Arabella on the other side of the couch. I listen in until I feel eyes boring into my head. I turn to find Landon staring intently at me.
“What is it, babe?” I whisper.
“We’re laughing in the living room with people you love. Eating pizza.”
His head cocks to the side and he looks almost… emotional. And that’s when it hits me.
A memory that the sounds of the people you love laughing in your living room over pizza will dim.
His wish for me way back when. I kiss those fucking beautiful lips I mentioned earlier, ‘cause we read about heroes all the time in storybooks, but I have one in real life.
* * *
Essie
Five Years Later
“Essie, look at me.”
“I'm not sure I can do this. I-I can’t…”
My breathing picks up ‘til I'm full-on hyperventilating.
“Essie, look at me.”
“What if I break? What if I start talking to her about animals? What if—”
“Shhh.” Landon grabs my shoulders, pulls me in close, and kisses me. Kisses the hell out of me, really, effectively silencing me. The kiss brings back memories.
The first time Landon and I made love. The way he was able to keep me present the whole entire time.
The day Landon proposed to me. When he got down on two knees by accident ‘cause he was nervous, blue eyes shimmering, and asked me to be his wife. For better and for worse.
All leading to this time in our lives.
Now Sage is coming over. Both of our treatment teams approved it, and with support, felt it would help bring us to the next step in our healing process.
But I'm not sure I can do it. Can face her. I trained her. I was so different back then. So harsh and cold, and while no one would accuse me of bei
ng warm and fuzzy now, I'm a much nicer person.
Then there are my episodes. She knows all about them. After all, after Pamela passed away, I was constantly in one. I haven’t had an episode in over six months, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen now.
“Babe,” Landon whispers as he pulls away, “I think once you see her, all this anxiety you’re feeling, all this fear, will disappear.”
“Doubtful,” I gasp, squeezing my waist with a death grip.
He kisses my forehead. “I believe in you.”
“It’s wasted.”
He smirks. “You haven’t let me down yet, angel.”
“I still hate that nickname.”
He grins over his shoulder as he buttons his shirt up.
“Literally, I’ll never stop using it.”
I crouch down, slip my sneaker off and chuck it at him. He lets out a boisterous laugh, catching it in midair.
“Of course you’d catch that.”
“Aw, you really wanted to hit me?”
“You’re in your late thirties now. How the hell have you not grown up?” I huff.
“I’ll never grow up.”
“Yes, Agent Peter Pan.”
He’s mid-laugh when the doorbell rings. I completely freeze. In the distance, I hear the familiar sound of chirping.
“Landon,” I whimper, terrified. He runs over and wraps me up in his arms.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Stay with me. Okay?”
I take a deep breath and stammer out an “okay”.
“I'm gonna get the door. You take a minute. Remember the person Sage is on the inside, not as a figment of your imagination. Then meet us downstairs when you’re ready.”
“I-I should go. They’ll think…”
“They’ll think what?” Landon whispers. “They know this is hard for you. That’s why we’re meeting at our house. They want to see you. That’s all. Of all people, they would never judge.”
He kisses my head for, like, the sixth time in ten minutes and walks out. I hear voices downstairs, one familiar male voice and one kinda familiar female voice. If Sage really is down there, she doesn’t sound the same.
“You can do this, Essie. You’re a literal genius. You can face Sage. You can do it. You can do it.”
Ugh, I can’t do it!
I tug on the ends of my hair before darting to our closet, grabbing a beanie, and throwing it on over the top of my head. I tug it down so it goes right to the top of my eyes and covers my eyebrows.
I have to do this. It couldn’t have been easy for Sage to come out here to see me. I have to show. Not to mention the fact that Landon believes in me. He’s sacrificed a lot for me.
I owe it to them to at least try. And if I fail, I fail. Sage has seen me much worse off.
Alright.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
Pamela would want this, too.
I walk down the hall.
Landon believes in me.
I take three steps down, grateful that Landon led them away from the bottom of the stairs. I would have fallen and died from pure terror.
Sage came here to see me.
Three more steps, three to go.
I believe in me. I know I can do this.
I walk down the last three stairs and take a deep breath. I'm only a few feet away. I can hear them all talking.
“You have a beautiful home,” a quiet voice compliments. Sage.
“Thanks, Sage! Can I get you a drink or anything?”
“Water is fine.”
“Do you want lemon in it?”
Even terrified, I laugh. Landon’s offering lemon water? He’s really making an effort here. Bougie, fancy shit is not his thing.
“I'm good. Thanks.”
There’s an awkward silence that follows that. I know this is my chance. One foot in front of the other, I walk into the dining room where they’re all gathered, facing away from me.
“I guess we’re finally allowed to see each other, huh?” is what comes out of my mouth, sounding way braver than I feel.
Sage tenses as the two men turn. Then, almost in slow motion, she spins on her heel and slams into me, wrapping her arms around me in the tightest hug anyone has ever given.
And she cries.
And before I know it, I'm crying.
And we’re both sobbing in each other’s arms. And as much as I hate it, I can’t seem to muster up the desire to want to stop it.
There’s so much to cry about and no words to describe it. We only step away when each of our men place a hand on each of our shoulders to encourage us to let the other go. It’s then we step away, laughing a little as we wipe our eyes.
“It’s so good to see you,” Sage sniffles. “I’ve been asking about you for years. I-I’ve been getting updates and stuff. I hope you’re not mad.”
She’s looking at me with those giant green eyes of hers. There’s no way in hell I could be mad.
“I-I'm not mad.”
Landon’s hand slides from my shoulder to my hip and squeezes. Sage catches the motion with a smile. Her eyes gleam.
“Wanna go outside? Catch up or something?”
“Yeah, Landon has a patio. We can sit there.”
I'm not able to look at her as I start to head that way. I can’t even face Nix yet. He was there when I was in captivity. There when I trained Sage. He was the one who would buy us out for the night before he could save us so we could be fed and have a good night's sleep. It’s too weird.
“It’s good see you Essie,” Nix greets gently when I pass him.
I stiffen. “Same. Thanks.”
I practically run outside to the patio. Sage follows me quietly.
“He’s really nice. I promise,” Sage whispers once we’re both seated.
I fiddle with the rip in my jeans. Of course she noticed the way I avoided her husband. Everyone probably did.
“I know.”
“I get it. Really, I… if he wasn’t my own personal hero, I’d feel weird being around him, too.”
I glance up at her with a little smile. “Your hero, huh?”
She blushes. “Like Landon for you.”
Now it’s my turn to blush and she knows it. She gives me a mischievous little grin.
“You’re so grown up. It’s weird.”
“My hair color hasn’t changed. There’s that.”
“No, I guess it hasn’t,” I chuckle. Sage has this unique, green-hued hair. It’s really pretty.
“P.S., it kind of got ruined crying and all, but I love your makeup. You’re really good.”
We don’t mention that it was my job to do hair and makeup when we were held captive. I would never mention I got that role because Zaid knew from dating me that I was talented at makeup.
“Thanks. I actually work as a makeup artist part time,” I say with a shrug.
“You do? That’s really great, um… it’s Essie, right?” she asks shyly.
“Yeah, it’s Essie. Tammy was who I had to be there. I'm sorry for lying to you.”
“Don’t apologize,” Sage says furiously. “I actually think it’s pretty genius.”
“I guess so. Sage, I-I'm so sorry.” My voice cracks. “I-I trained you and dressed you and—”
“Essie—”
“No, I have to get this out, Sage.”
Sage nods and swallows. “‘Kay,” she squeaks.
I stare down at my lap. “I know I didn’t take you, but I trained you. I molded you for them, and it makes me so sick inside. All these years later and thinking of a little sixteen-year-old you still makes me want to die. I am so sorry.”
“Can I talk now?”
I nod and Sage doesn’t waste a second. Leaning forward, she takes both of my hands in hers.
“You need to forgive yourself. Nothing that happened was your fault. Not one thing. You saved my life, Essie. If you hadn’t pushed me to do what they said, I probably would have gotten myself killed. I think about Pamela every day o
f my life and I know if she was here, she’d say the same thing. The way you processed everything that went on was so different from us. I was broken. The mix of Pamela and you stoked my fire so I didn’t end up a walking zombie at the other location. Pamela, she— she was a rebel heart. She fought hard, inspired deeply, but maybe would have gotten herself killed sooner if not for you, despite her beauty. You’re my sister, nothing less, Essie. Please forgive yourself. I can’t bear the thought of you putting any more hurt on yourself for something nobody blames you for.”
“I blame myself.”
Sage squeezes my knee. “Have you talked to your therapist and Landon about it?”
“Yeah, a lot,” I laugh. “They say it’ll take time.”
“They always say that. Like, yo, I'm waiting! But come on, suffering over here!”
I can’t help it. I laugh. I laugh really hard. Way too hard. I think I'm just so fucking relieved, so fucking happy, it all just comes spilling out of me.
“Your man is watching us,” Sage whispers when our laughter dies down.
“What?” I gasp and spin to look at the window.
Sure enough, there “my man” is, looking out the window. When I catch him, he winces, then winks and smiles. ‘Cause he knows how hot I find his smile. Before I can scowl at him, he’s pushing open the window.
“I’ve just been here for a minute. I swear.”
“You’re ten. Go away.”
He laughs. “I have wine and chocolate brownies from your favorite bakery when you’re ready to go inside.”
With that bomb, he closes the window.
“Do you like brownies?”
Sage winces. “Are they vegan? Sorry, I-I hate to be that person, but…”
“Oh yeah, I remember you saying you were vegan. I doubt it, to be honest. Landon and I aren’t good about that.”
“It’s okay. I actually ate before I came. See, I’m a vegan blogger for a living, so I eat well.”
“Oh, that’s cool. I suck at cooking. Like, I epically can’t cook. Landon’s better than me.”
“I’ll have to send him a few of my recipes. I bet he’d like them. They really aren’t bad.”
“Do you put weird superfoods and shit in your food?”
She laughs. “Sometimes, but they’re always optional. Come on, I saw your eyes when he mentioned those brownies. I don’t wanna keep you waiting any longer.”
