What's Left of Me

by Kristen Granata

  “At first, I agreed. I think I was still in shock. A lot had happened leading up to that point, and I guess I wanted to pretend that none of it was real.”

  “But you couldn’t go on pretending forever,” she says quietly.

  “No, and neither can you.”

  She watches the ripples as she kicks her legs back and forth in the water. “I really thought I could fix everything that was broken in my life. My body, my marriage. It’s normal to want to turn a blind eye to what’s going on. Bury your head in the sand. Ignorance is bliss, they say.”

  I smirk. “Yeah, until it isn’t. It’s a smokescreen that leaves you feeling empty inside.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel right now. Empty. It’s a hard pill to swallow when you realize that you’re not meant to have all the things life has to offer.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Maybe you were just with the wrong person, and the universe didn’t want you to raise a child in that kind of environment.”

  Callie tilts her head. “I’ve never thought about it like that before. You know, doctors have said that it’s possible to have a baby with fibroids. I just haven’t had that kind of luck.”

  I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Maybe your luck will start to change now that you’ve taken a step in the right direction for yourself.”

  She covers my hand with hers. “Maybe it will for you too.”

  Looking into those big, hopeful eyes of hers, I don’t have the heart to tell Callie that things won’t turn around for me.

  There isn’t a light at the end of my tunnel.

  There’s only darkness and despair.

  It’s what I deserve.

  I slip my hand out from under hers and stack our plates. “You should get some rest.”

  “Wait.” Her fingers wrap around my wrist. “Please don’t leave yet. Can you just sit out here with me for a little longer? We don’t have to talk.”

  I should go.

  Shouldn’t even be indulging in this time with her right now.

  Yet my mouth can’t form the word no. Not when she’s looking at me the way she is.

  Like she needs me.

  Like my presence helps her in some way.

  If I’m being honest, her presence helps me, too.

  And that’s a big fucking problem.

  I place our dishes back down on the ground and settle into my spot beside Callie. I’ll sit out here with her just a little while longer.

  A little quiet time together can’t hurt.

  Can it?

  Seventeen

  Cole

  Three Years Ago

  “Can we look yet?”

  Penny laughed. “The box says to wait three minutes.”

  I paced the perimeter of the bathroom. “Well, this is taking forever.”

  “Come here.” Penny lifted her hand, and I clasped it in mine, lowering myself to sit beside her on the tile floor. “What do you want the outcome of this pregnancy test to be?”

  “I ...” I blew out a stream of air through my lips and looked into Penny’s big, beautiful eyes. “I know we didn’t plan for this to happen so soon, but I want it, Penny. I want the test to be positive.”

  She smiled as she took my face into her hands. “I do too.”

  I nuzzled my nose against hers. “Would be a pretty great wedding gift.”

  She giggled. “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow, Cole Luciano.”

  “And I can’t wait to make you my wife.” I pulled Penny onto my lap, and as soon as I pressed my lips to hers, the timer on her phone dinged.

  I threw her off me and bolted for the pee stick.

  Penny’s laughter faded into the background as I gazed down at the two pink lines.

  One line meant negative.

  Two lines meant ...

  “Positive. It’s positive. Penny, you’re pregnant!”

  She wrapped her arms around my neck, smiling the biggest smile I’d ever seen on her, and looked up at me with watery eyes. “We’re having a baby.”

  Tears blurred my vision. “A baby.”

  “A little boy who looks just like you,” she whispered. “With captivating blue eyes and a heart of gold.”

  “Or a beautiful little girl who looks like her mama, with warm brown eyes and the most genuine soul.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and have one of each.” She pulled back to look at me. “Don’t twins run in your family?”

  “They do, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” I lifted her up and carried her into our bedroom. “We’ll start with one and work our way up to two.”

  Penny laughed as she bounced back onto the bed. I crawled on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

  “Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?”

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

  “And these lips,” I said as I kissed them.

  I trailed kisses down her chest and stopped at her stomach. I pushed up her T-shirt and showered her stomach with affection. “I’m going to take care of you,” I whispered. “I’m going to do everything I can to be the best father and husband.”

  Penny took my jaw in her hands and pulled me up until I was looking in her eyes. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

  “We’re going to be a beautiful family, Cole.”

  A family.

  “Always.”

  Eighteen

  Callie

  It’s always disorienting waking up in someone else’s bed.

  Even before you open your eyes, you can tell that you’re not at home. The sheets feel different against your skin. Your neck is out of whack from the pillow you aren’t used to sleeping on. The whir of the air conditioner seems louder. But waking up in Josie’s guest bedroom is an entirely different experience altogether. The noise level here with four kids, two of which are crying toddlers, is off the charts.

  Though I’m only across the street from my house, it feels like I’m waking up in another life.

  I suppose I am.

  Dan’s words from last night echo in my mind. You’re the one who needs help, Callie.

  It’s true. I need help.

  How could I expect to help Paul when I’m such a mess inside?

  Questions continue to assault me as I pull the white comforter up and hug it close. What am I going to do now? Where do I go from here?

  I miss Maverick’s morning wet-nose kisses. Tears well at the thought of him looking for me when he wakes up. Part of me misses Paul too. I know I shouldn’t miss someone who hurts me, but I can’t help it. I still care about him. I’ve loved him for over a decade.

  I wonder if I always will.

  I’m not ready to face the day. To face the truth. To face Josie and her beautiful family. Reality is too real. Too raw. Too frightening.

  Funny how living in a house with a man who hits me doesn’t seem so scary when I’m faced with the possibility of starting over.

  Without him.

  Alone.

  I huff out a humorless laugh as my tears drop onto the pillow.

  I must be really messed up.

  I wallow in bed until a knock draws my attention to the door.

  Josie sticks her head into the room. “You up?”

  I push myself up to sit against the headboard. “Not sure I actually slept.”

  She closes the door behind her. “We can be kind of loud. I was hoping we didn’t wake you.”

  I shake my head. “You didn’t. And you don’t have to tiptoe around me. I’m in your house. You guys need to go about business as usual.”

  The mattress dips down as Josie lowers herself onto the edge. “You’re crying.”

  I nod, quickly swiping the evidence away. “Thinking about Maverick. Wondering how Paul’s doing. Not really sure what to do with myself today.”

  “Right now, all you need to worry about is what you’re having for breakfast. We’ll keep an eye out for when Paul leaves for work, and then you can go
see Mav. We’ll pack some clothes and essentials while we’re there too. Dan also has the number of his lawyer friend for you.”

  I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”

  “Well, at least you’ll have it when you are.” She pauses. “Callie, everything is going to be okay. I know it seems scary right now, but you’re going to get through this. I’m here for you, and I’m going to help you. I won’t let Paul hurt you again.”

  I know she won’t, but the real question is, why did I?

  “Come down and have something to eat when you’re ready. We can come up with a plan. I know that’s what’s bouncing around in that head of yours.”

  I offer her a small smile. “Sure.”

  I wash up in the bathroom, using a spare toothbrush, and try to use my hair to cover the bruising along my neck. The last thing I want is for Brandon or Miles to notice it. They’re innocent kids and shouldn’t be subjected to the violence in my life.

  Out of all the bruises Paul’s given me, this set of purple finger marks is the most upsetting. It physically pains me to look at myself in the mirror like this. The man I love, the man I married, tried to choke the life out of me.

  Why?

  Before I spiral any further, I force myself out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

  “Callie!” Brandon and Miles charge toward me, knocking over their chairs at the kitchen table.

  “Whoa.” I brace myself for impact as they crash into my midsection. “What’s all this about?”

  “You and Mom aren’t fighting anymore,” Brandon says. “And you’re going to live with us!”

  I laugh, squeezing them as tight as I can. “For a little while.”

  Miles looks up at me, his glasses crooked from our embrace. “It’ll be like a really long slumber party. We can have wrestling matches and watch movies!”

  “Okay, boys.” Josie waves them over from the table. “Let Callie sit and eat. You two need to finish your plates, as well.”

  I take a seat next to Lucas’s highchair and ruffle his hair. “Good morning, handsome boy.”

  He holds out a mushed piece of waffle, and I pretend to go after it, but he quickly shoves it into his mouth. Serenity giggles, and I shoot her a wink.

  “Here. Eat up.”

  My eyes widen when I see the full plate Josie’s pushing my way. “Are you expecting company?”

  “Just shut up and eat. Breakfast makes everything better.”

  I shake my head. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

  “You know I cook when I’m anxious.”

  “Mom’s worried about you,” Brandon says.

  Miles hits his arm. “You’re not supposed to talk about it, Mom said!”

  Josie buries her face in her hands. “Smooth, boys. Real smooth.”

  I smile. “It’s okay. This is your house. We can talk about whatever you want here.”

  Brandon’s big brown eyes meet mine from across the table. “Did Paul really hurt you, Callie?”

  I nod. “He did.”

  “I’m glad Uncle Cole beat his face in.”

  “Brandon!” Josie points her index finger at him. “That is not something you can say, and what have I told you about eavesdropping?”

  His head drops. “Sorry.”

  I slide my hand over the table and wrap my fingers around Brandon’s forearm. “Look at me, B.”

  He lifts his tear-filled gaze.

  “I understand why you feel that way. Your mom just doesn’t want you to think that hitting someone is a solution to your problems. What Uncle Cole did was wrong, just the same as what Paul did was wrong. Okay?”

  A tear slides down his face as he nods. “I’m just so mad at Paul.”

  “We all are,” Miles chimes in.

  “I think Paul needs help. Sometimes, people have problems that can’t be solved on their own. It’s hard to understand why they do the things they do, and they don’t mean to be the way they are.”

  “So, hopefully, Paul gets the help he needs.” Josie claps her hands. “End of story. Now clear your plates and go be kids.”

  Brandon hugs me once more before running off with Miles.

  Josie heaves a sigh. “They hear everything. There are no secrets in this house, I swear.”

  “It’s okay. They have questions, and I’d rather them have correct information than to wonder and come to their own conclusions.”

  “You’re right, though. Paul does need help. Do you think he’ll talk to a therapist?”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure. We have a lot to talk about, but I’m just not ready to face him yet. I haven’t even turned my phone on.”

  “A little break is perfectly fine. You’ll decide when you’re ready. You’re safe here in the meantime.”

  I rub small circles on my temples. “I wonder how he’s feeling today. His face was so ... bloody.”

  “Dan made sure he was okay before he left last night. He’s going to be bruised for a while.” She brushes an imaginary crumb off her lap as she mutters, “Serves him right.”

  I smirk. “Heard that.”

  She shrugs.

  “I can’t imagine he’ll go to work today with his face looking like that. We might not be able to get into the house.”

  She grabs her phone. “I’ll talk to Dan. We’ll figure it out and get you back in there.”

  I push my plate away, my stomach too twisted up in knots to eat. “I have therapy today. Do you mind if I use your shower and borrow some clothes?”

  Josie’s hand clamps over mine. “You don’t have to ask. Go. Take whatever you need. This house is yours.”

  Mine.

  What do I have left that’s mine?

  “I wish you would’ve told me sooner, but I’m glad you were able to get yourself out of there.”

  “I’m sorry, Melissa. I should’ve told you.”

  My therapist shakes her head and offers me a soft smile. “I didn’t say that to force an apology out of you, Callie. I just hate that you went through this alone for so long. I could’ve helped you. That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I know. I just ...” I shrug. “I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I think I was scared of what it would mean to say it aloud.”

  “It’s okay not to know. You’re not expected to have all the answers. This is still so new. You need time to go through your range of emotions at your own pace.”

  “I think I’d feel better if I had a plan. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

  “That’s the anxiety talking. Sometimes, especially in the beginning, you need to sit around and do nothing. Be one with your thoughts. Listen to what your heart is telling you. Why don’t you start by making a list? Organize your thoughts.”

  I nod slowly. “I could write it in my journal.”

  “Absolutely. Write everything and anything you’re thinking and feeling. It helps to sort through the noise in your head.”

  Melissa stands and pulls a flyer out of a drawer in her desk. “You should also consider going to one of these support group meetings. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but it helps to listen to other people who understand what you’re going through.”

  I take the flyer from her and stare down at it.

  Women’s Support Group.

  Tears flood my vision for the hundredth time today. “Thank you,” is all I can muster.

  “The first step is the hardest, and you’ve done it. This is huge, Callie. Take this time to reflect on who you are and who you want to become. Think about what path you want to take moving forward. It’s up to you. You have the power to change your story.”

  “Paul’s always had the power.”

  “Because you let him have it.”

  I huff out a humorless laugh. “Pathetic, huh?”

  “You were in survival mode. Relinquishing the power to him was what kept you safe all these years. But now, you broke that pattern. You left, and you took the power with you.�
��

  “I don’t feel powerful at all.”

  “Just because you don’t feel it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It’s a gradual process.”

  Gradual.

  Slow.

  All the things I don’t want right now. I wish I could press a giant fast-forward button on my life and get to the part where I’m past all this.

  “The most difficult part of this whole thing,” Melissa continues, “is coming to terms with the fact that you allowed someone to hurt you. You’ll question yourself, if you haven’t begun doing that already, which is natural. But I want you to remember what we talked about when you first started your sessions with me. Your father had narcissistic tendencies, which turned you into a people-pleaser. Being the child of a narcissist, you were blamed for things that you didn’t do, things that you had no control over. This, in turn, created a need to fix within you. Hear me when I say you cannot fix anyone but yourself. You can change, and grow, and become a stronger person who doesn’t feel the need to fix everyone around them. Right now, you need to focus on fixing yourself.”

  Though I leave Melissa’s session feeling mentally and physically drained, I also leave feeling more focused than when I started.

  Maybe I can do this after all.

  I just need to fix myself.

  If only I knew where to start.

  Josie’s waiting for me in the parking lot as promised. My clothes, my car keys, and everything I own are in my house, and Paul hasn’t left all day. I hate relying on Josie to drive me around, but there’s no room for pride right now. She’s my best friend, and I need her.

  “Dan is with Paul right now,” she says when I buckle myself into the passenger seat. “You and I will go in there together to get your stuff. You can talk to him if you feel ready to, but I’ll be by your side. I won’t leave you alone with him.”

  I nod as the knots in my stomach pull tighter.

  Will Paul be angry? Will he beg for me to come back home? Will he feed me more empty promises?

  More importantly, will I crumble under the guilt of his heartache?

  Stay strong, Callie.

  You’ve come this far.

  Be brave.