“And what will you tell us? Hmmm?” Condescension dripped from his comment.
“I want to live by my own rules.”
“The same kind of rules that had you out to all hours of the night, drunk, and no doubt whoring around? Disobeying and lying to your parents? Or showing contempt to the man you were meant to marry?” This time my mother spoke up. “Is this how you want to live your life? Because so far, I’m not impressed.”
“I don’t need your approval,” I answered back. I could see the way they were trying to twist everything back on me. “I’m twenty-one and I need my independence.”
“Again, independence to do what?” She gestured at my appearance. “It’s blatantly obvious you are still too young to make decisions for yourself. You need our guidance.”
“Enough. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior. As long as you live under my roof, eat the food off my table, and wear the clothes I provide, you will do what you’re told. Do I make myself clear, Liberty?” My father leaned forward, staring me down. He wanted me to fold, bow beneath his forceful demands.
“Then I want to move out!” For all the courage it took to say that, guilt began twining itself among my thoughts. I’d envisioned this moment for years—me standing my ground and making demands of my own. What I hadn’t factored in was the reminders that these were my parents. There would be no compromise. I’d have to openly defy their wishes, figuratively throwing their authority back in their faces. I wasn’t prepared for the sick feeling that washed over me.
“You’ll do no such thing. I don’t know where this defiance is coming from, but you need to get that idea out of your head. As your father, I decide what’s best for you, what keeps you safe and happy. You may think you have it all figured out; but believe me, it’s a rough world out there and what I do, I do out of love.”
And there it was—the reason they claimed everything was done on my behalf. They may think they loved me, but their actions felt more like a sledgehammer constantly chipping away at my confidence and crippling my spirit.
“You can’t control me forever. Sooner or later, you need to let me figure things out for myself. Make mistakes. Explore. Live.” Anger ebbed away and was replaced with pleading. I didn’t care if it made me vulnerable. I had to make them understand.
“I’m sorry you feel we’re controlling you, Honey.” The use of the endearment made all kinds of red flags surface. My mother never used that term unless she was trying to lull her victim into a false sense of security. “We want what’s best for you. We see so much heartache among the young people today; our only hope is for you and your sister to avoid it. If you could only hear the stories I do from my friends. Granting independence too soon will only lead you down the path of destruction. Is that what you want? To be miserable?”
“I’m already miserable, Mom.”
“Then whose fault is that? Don’t we give you everything you need? If you can’t find happiness in the lifestyle you’re blessed with, maybe the problem lies within you. Blaming us for your shortcomings isn’t helpful. It’s ungrateful.”
There was the barb I knew was coming. It hurt that no matter what I said, they just couldn’t understand how trapped I felt.
“I am grateful to both of you,” I replied, looking from one to the other. “I know I’ve had more opportunities than most, but can’t you see? You won’t even let me choose who I marry! Not once have you asked how I feel about Andrew.”
“You made your feelings painfully obvious last night. You not only embarrassed yourself, but also this family. We made the perfect match for you and now he’s withdrawn his offer. He wants nothing to do with someone so deceitful.” My father glared when I snorted at his comments. “You knew this marriage was important to everyone and yet, you didn’t care. That’s a strange way to show your gratitude.”
“Then good riddance. He was a jerk. The thought of being his wife and having to submit to his tyranny made me ill!” I retorted, still standing.
“Where are you getting these absurd ideas? Tyranny? Andrew is perfectly charming. He would’ve treated you like a queen, not the prisoner you’re claiming.”
“I know where, Mom.” I whipped around to see Erica sitting on the chair by the door. That’s when I knew it was all over.
“Erica,” I pleaded, turning my back on my parents so I could face my sister. “Please.”
“You didn’t keep your promise,” she hissed. “I warned you this would happen if you failed.”
“What are you talking about?” My father queried, waving for Erica to approach. “Speak up.”
“I only just found out, but Liberty’s been secretly talking with someone. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s who she was with last night.” And like the traitor she was, she dropped Oliver’s phone number on the desktop. “I found this.”
“Who’s this Oliver?” I physically took a step backward from the force of his question.
When I didn’t answer promptly, Erica gleefully did the job for me. “Remember that waiter who brought her the water with raspberries in it?” My mother nodded and Erica continued. “That’s Oliver. I’m sure if you check her phone you’ll find all kinds of things on it.”
“Go get it, Liberty.”
I had no choice but to obey. The strength I’d gained through the conversation was rapidly slipping through my fingers as the old, familiar weight of obedience settled back on my chest.
“No need, Dad. Here you go.” Handing it over, she had the audacity to give our parents the dutiful daughter act.
Erica’s betrayal was profound. “What have I ever done to you?” I whispered.
“You got in my way.” No longer needed, she returned to her chair by the door.
As my parents began scrolling through the texts I’d been stupid enough to keep, there wasn’t enough air in the room to breathe. The walls began closing in around me and panic all but consumed me. They knew about Oliver, my relationship with him and in their possession was the one thing that proved my weakness—his importance to me.
“How long has this been going on?” My father ordered, waving the phone in the air. “And just how close have you gotten to this boy?” Staring at the ground, I tried not to flinch when he roared, asking me again. “You answer me right this second. Who is he to you?”
“He’s the one I choose!” I yelled back, tears now falling down my cheek. “He’s the only person who listens and believes in me. He doesn’t try bending me to his will and he makes me laugh.”
“Well, it’s over between you, starting right now. I won’t have it be known that my daughter gave up Andrew Hampton to be with some hired help.” My mother nodded in agreement, patting her husband’s shoulder in support.
“You can’t make me. This is my life!” Gone was the control over my emotions and my plans to present a rational argument. I’d been reduced to begging and yelling. They’d succeeded in making me look like the very child they excused me of being.
“I can make you and you will obey.” My father now stood. His presence filled the room and I felt myself begin to shake.
Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You can still make your stand. My inner voice began chanting loudly as I dug deeper than ever, ready to defend my needs with my last breath.
“I’m an adult. This is my decision. I want my freedom!” Glaring at my father, I refused to back down.
“Then you leave me no other choice, Liberty. Dr. Stein will need to become involved again.”
The fight was over—my bid for independence wiped out and decimated by one single name. All the steel in my resolve melted away and, for the first time since he ordered me, I sat down.
“No . . .” Horror filled my soft denial. “Dad, please don’t.”
“You’ve left me no choice. You’ve proven you’re beyond all reason and I can’t, in good conscience, allow your self-destructive behavior to continue. Dr. Stein has worked miracles with you before. I’m positive he can do so, again.”
Just the
mention of the well-respected psychotherapist triggered memories I’d spent years burying and trying to forget. Dr. Stein was favored by many in our society, trusted and beloved, but to me he was nothing more than a cruel monster. The thought of him becoming involved had me back pedaling furiously.
I’d been fourteen when I first met him. He seemed sympathetic to my plight—a young teenager testing her parents’ boundaries, wanting to see how far she could push before they snapped. Lonely, a little depressed, and in desperate need of understanding, I’d unloaded my foolish heart session after session. Little did I know, I was sealing my fate.
Dr. Stein was convinced I was suffering from something called Oppositional Defiance Disorder and that a brief stay at his treatment facility would cure me. That summer my parents temporarily signed over their rights, giving him full control over me. It hadn’t been the cure he’d promised, though. It had traumatized me, breaking me down into the smallest of pieces so he could reprogram me into the model daughter.
The fact my father now threatened to send me back proved my theory there hadn’t been a disclosure of methods. My heart couldn’t fathom my parents purposely signing me up for rounds of electric shock therapy and isolation. Dr. Stein was barbaric.
“You can’t send me there. I won’t go. It’s different this time, I’m not a minor.” I grasped at straws, anything to stop him from making that call.
“When I believe my daughter is a danger to herself, even a court of law will grant me power of attorney.” He picked up the phone and after flipping through his Rolodex for the number, began dialing.
“Please, don’t. I’m sorry for acting out.” Survival mode had kicked in and I put my finger on the dial pad, ending the call.
“How do I know this isn’t just an act? Seems you’ve become a master at lying, recently.” He didn’t put down the receiver. “You need help. I won’t watch idly on as you destroy yourself.”
“I promise to do whatever you ask.” I was desperate and ready to conform.
“Then call this Oliver and tell him goodbye. Tell him never to contact you again.”
My heart sunk, knowing I’d do exactly what I was told. Oliver had once asked me if my fear was greater than my desire for independence. The answer was a resounding yes. Fear was now my master. I’d just been a fool to ever think it wasn’t.
“Yes, sir,” I murmured.
“Now. In front of me.”
My voice was void of life as I heard Oliver answer with a hello.
“Hey, it’s me. We need to talk.”
Chapter Nineteen
“You don’t have to do this, Liberty.” Oliver’s comment felt like a dagger plunging into my heart. Gripping the phone and feeling the stare of my father, I shook my head. Whether it was to disagree or clear the thought that I was lying to Oliver, I didn’t know.
“I can’t see you anymore. I’m sorry.” Each word shook me to the core.
“Did something happen?” He relentlessly pushed. “What happened when you went home?”
“Nothing. I woke up this morning and realized that we want different things. Last night was fun, but that’s not my life.” My voice cracked, failing me.
“You’re stronger than them. Fight it. Not for me, but for you. You were free last night. Don’t go backward, sweetheart.” I wanted to tell him I’d fight, that deep down, this was killing me. But too much was at stake. When all was said and done, I truly wasn’t brave at all. Not by a long shot.
“I’ve made up my mind. We would never have worked, anyway. Please don’t try contacting me.” My mother nodded as she listened on, showing her approval. Oliver was silent on the other end of the phone and it hurt. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m not brave enough. Maybe given time I will be but . . .”
“Liberty.” My father’s sharp reprimand reminded me why I’d placed the call.
“But, it’ll be too late for us.” I finished. “I’m so sorry.”
“Okay. I don’t like this and my gut tells me you’re being forced to say goodbye, but I promised I’d never pressure you. Just promise me, Liberty. Say the word. Say it and I’ll come. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
My tears were falling so quickly, they blurred my vision. Even now, he refused to let go, giving me a way to reach out and take the help he was offering. I didn’t deserve him. It shattered me to realize I never really had.
“Goodbye, Oliver,” I whispered and hung up before I fully broke down. Looking at my father, an emptiness settled within me. He’d found a weakness and manipulated me with it, yet again; showing me that any hope of ever being truly free was futile. The imaginary noose that was always there growing up, tightened. My parents owned me, completely. I was their pawn, once more, to move about as they wished. “It’s done.”
“Good girl. You’ll see that what you just did is for the best. Maybe in time Andrew will forgive you, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope. A man’s pride is all he has and you wounded his with your callousness.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t really thinking of the consequences.” I barely recognized my own voice. It had taken on a hollow sound, much like the feeling echoing inside my chest. The second I’d hung up on Oliver, I’d lost everything.
“All you can do now is learn from your mistakes and move on. Who knows? Maybe he’ll show some discretion and your rudeness won’t spread through the community.” My father took on a much softer tone, now that he had me back under his control. “Now, I suggest you return to your room and clean up. I’ll see you later for lunch.”
“Yes, Sir.” Standing, I didn’t raise my gaze from the floor. I was beaten down and broken. I couldn’t bear to see the gloating superior look on Erica’s face.
“And, Liberty?” It was my mother who called out.
“Yes?”
“We expect to see you back to your usual self.” Even though she was asking for the impossible, I obediently nodded.
“Smiling.”
I forced my mouth into a smile. “Okay.”
Leaving the room and fleeing up the stairs, I threw myself onto my bed and gave in to the torrent of tears I’d been holding back. My body was racked with sobs as the heartache, unlike anything I’d experienced before, took over.
Anger toward my parents erupted. Guilt, shame, and disbelief that I’d caved so thoroughly were the next to surface. Pouring my grief into my pillow, those emotions weren’t the strong ones. For as long as I lived, I wouldn’t forgive myself for being a coward; but it was the self-loathing that took root in my soul, revulsion for who I had become.
I began free falling into darkness, convinced that was where I belonged.
There was no point going down for lunch. Dinnertime passed, as well, and still I remained alone. There were no knocks at the door, of concern or curiosity, and the silence did nothing to soothe my defeated heart.
For hours, my thoughts served as a whip to flog myself, unmercifully. Over and over, my conversation with Oliver replayed, his face always before me. I could imagine the hurt in his eyes, the pleading in his voice, him grabbing hold of me as he tried to give me his own strength. Part of me expected to hear the doorbell ring impatiently, followed by his demands to see me. He’d stride into my room, sweep me up into his strong arms, and carry me away from this nightmare, like a knight in shining armor.
The truth, however, was Oliver had always believed I would save myself. He never once placed himself in the role of my savior. Everything he did and said was to show me my dreams were possible, encouraging me to be brave. He wanted me to empower myself; and at the first sign of opposition, I’d withered under the one threat I couldn’t fight.
He’d seen potential in me and I’d shown him my true colors. I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me, now. Lying here with dried tear stains down my cheeks, it was easy enough to do. I hated the person I’d just become. What I despised even more was that there was still the tiniest sliver of fire burning inside me and I would rather squelch it than see Dr. Stein.
My
father had chosen his winning card well.
A brusque knocking disturbed my self-deprecating musings. The door opened, the bottom dragging across the carpet, and I assumed it was the servant bringing me a tray of food. My stomach had been growling for the last thirty minutes, despite my ignoring it. “I’m not hungry,” I muttered.
“Feeling sorry for yourself? Why am I not surprised? Poor little Liberty.”
“Go away, Erica. You won. No doubt Mom will convince Andrew how perfect you are and you can both live happily ever after. You got what you wanted.” I didn’t bother rolling over to look at her.
“Of course, I will,” she said smugly. “I just came up to see how you were.”
“And no doubt gloat. I’m not in the mood.” The last thing I wanted was for her to see me in this much pain.
“You’ve only got yourself to blame for this, dear sister. You were a fool to think you could get away with it.” She was moving about my room, touching things.
“I was a fool to think I could ever trust you.” I spat, no longer able to lie still. Sitting up, I didn’t both hiding my anger. “You’ll end up with Andrew. He doesn’t want me. There was no need to tell Mom and Dad about Oliver. You shouldn’t have even been in the room.”
“What, and miss out on all the fun?” She picked up one of the photo frames on my dresser, and frowned before replacing it. “You deserved everything you got this morning. All your tears won’t change that.”
“What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?”
“I told you, you got in my way. You’ve been a thorn in my side for years and I’m sick and tired of watching you get everything.”
“What are you talking about?” My eyes widened in disbelief.
“Don’t play Miss Innocent with me. You don’t think I realize they love you more than me? Dad takes an interest in your education; something he never did for me, and Mom considers you a miniature version of herself. And you don’t even appreciate it.”
“What world are you living in? Are you honestly jealous of how they treat me?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “They control every move I make, every choice. I have no say in my life and you’re upset about that?”
Loving Liberty Page 15
