Chapter 17

17

Evenie

“ H ow are you feeling today, Evenie?”

I sat in Dr. Stewart’s office with my arms and legs crossed, staring out the window. My mood hadn’t lifted at all since this morning. I really didn’t want to be here, but I knew I needed to be here.

“I have a flight of emotions right now.”

“What seems to be the most pressing?”

I snorted. “I miss my husband. I’m still very much in love with him, and while I know he loves me, he’s in love with another woman. I know it’s unreasonable, but I wasn’t expecting to come home to that.”

She nodded. “Your feelings are valid, Evenie. Sometimes, it’s hard accepting change.”

“Nothing was supposed to change. Being kidnapped was never on my bucket list, Dr. Stewart.”

“I understand. It changed your life in so many unplanned ways.”

“Too many. I feel like I’m just getting to know my daughter. I’m grateful her dad did the legwork with her knowing me, but it hurts me that I missed every monumental moment of her life. I never got to hear her first words or see her take her first steps. I didn’t get to experience the joys of watching her grow up. All of that was stolen from me, and I’m so fucking angry about it.

“Then to come home and learn that my husband is engaged to another woman. That was the nail in the proverbial coffin. I can’t even hate her how I want to because she was there for them when I couldn’t be. She took on the motherly role to my child, and Summer loves her… she loves her.”

Tears threatened the corners of my eyes. Dr. Stewart reached for a tissue and handed it to me. I dabbed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No need to be sorry. This is good. May I ask if you and your husband’s fiancée have had a conversation?”

I shook my head. “Nothing productive. She’s very passive aggressive with me, and I give it right back to her. I know it’s not the best response, but the way she looks at me… it’s like I stole her future. You would think she’s the one who came home to her man with another woman. I’ve told that man to serve me the divorce papers, and I will sign them if he wants to be with her. I’ve yet to see anything.”

“How would you feel if he actually presented you with divorce papers?”

I thought for a moment. What word could accurately describe how I would feel?

“Devastated,” I answered after a minute. “I’ve loved that man for almost twenty years. There’s never been a passage of time where he didn’t exist in my heart. I was forced to live without him once, and now, I’m forced into it again.”

“You feel like your hands are tied.”

“Yes. I can’t just tell him to pick me. I mean, I can, but I don’t want that.”

“You want it to be natural.”

“Exactly. Sometimes, I feel like I endured all I endured for nothing.”

“How have you been dealing with that part of being home?”

“I try not to think about it. And I know that’s not healthy, but I can’t put myself in a victim mindset again. When I was in that basement, there were so many days when I wanted to kill myself before I died down there or at the hands of that man. I have so much anger toward him still that if I feel it, I’m going to lash out at the wrong people.”

“It’s healthy to release the anger in a safe space so you avoid doing just that.”

“What do you want me to say I’m upset about? The fact that he took me from my family? The fact that he should have been committed to a mental institution a long time ago? The fact that those people in that town knew he had mental issues and nobody did anything to protect the public from him? Where were his parents? His family? Where was somebody that gave a damn about him enough to protect him from himself? Maybe it’s the fact that even when he came out of a psychotic episode and knew I wasn’t his wife, he kept me locked away.”

My breathing elevated and so did my voice as I spoke. The anger I was trying not to feel had been simmering, and now it was well on its way to a rolling boil. Tears stung my eyes and clouded my vision. I wrapped my arms around myself as I often did to self soothe.

“I’m angry because the only way I feel normal sometimes is to sit in the closet at my parents’ house. Imagine being locked in a basement for years, and when you’re finally free, an enclosed space makes you feel normal. I double and triple check locks before I go to bed and throughout the night, so I barely sleep. I wake up three, sometimes four times in one sleep cycle to go check on my daughter and make sure she’s still there. When me and her dad take her out in public, I’m constantly looking around to make sure that no one is watching us too hard.

“How am I supposed to go back to work? How am I supposed to go in public alone without the fear of someone snatching me again? I deal with all this shit in my head, and I lie to the people that love me because I don’t want them to pity me. It’s no way to live, Dr. Stewart.”

I was in full-blown tears at this point. It wasn’t just the shit between Tyrion and me that was eating me up. It was everything. I was home, and I had life, but I wasn’t living.

“How are you feeling, getting that off your chest?” Dr. Stewart asked me.

I dabbed my eyes with the tissue. “Better.”

She covered my hand. “I know it’s tough. I know nobody likes to be vulnerable, but we can’t hold it all in. It will only consume you, Evenie. Even if you only talk to me, it’s a start. You have to let the people you love in too. They know you aren’t okay after all you’ve endured. Trust them to listen, even if they don’t know what to say. Sometimes, a listening ear is all you need.”

I nodded. I talked to her for a little while longer before my scheduled time was up. After scheduling my next appointment, I left the office and headed outside to where my father was waiting patiently. He insisted on bringing me and always waited out front until I was done. When he saw me come out of the building, he hopped out of his truck and went to open my door.

I smiled softly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome. You hungry? You didn’t eat breakfast, and you barely ate dinner last night. You’re gonna waste away at this point, baby girl.”

I giggled. “I’ll eat. I promise.”

“Good, because I have a hankering for a good old-fashioned barbeque sandwich and a cold beer.”

He closed my door and got back into the truck. Cranking up, he pulled out of the parking lot and drove to his favorite pub. Even though he was in his late fifties, my father still had the spirit of a man half his age and the looks to match. What he and my mother thought of going out to a bar for drinks and music was nothing. Tyrion, Nina, Jamie, and I had gone with them plenty of times.

Watching him and my mother cut up on the dance floor was always the highlight of my night during those times. Even now, they were forever dancing around the house. Summer Rose always joined in. I could tell my baby was partially raised by older people because she had their moves down to the T. She was the youngest, middle-aged woman I’d ever met.

Inside the pub, my dad and I took a seat in a booth. The server left us with menus after taking our drink order, stating she’d be right back.

“Do you and Mom still come here?” I asked.

“Oh, yes! We have to show these young folks in here how it’s done every now and then.”

I chuckled. “Don’t mess around and throw out your hip.”

He waved me off. “I’m in great shape. Look at these guns.”

He flexed a muscle, and it made me playfully roll my eyes. “Okay, sir. Put the muscles away. I don’t need anybody mistaking you for my sugar daddy instead of my father.”

He laughed. “Oh, please. Even if I were a single man, I could never be a sugar daddy, baby girl. I’m not that desperate, and I only spend money on women I love. If their names aren’t Cheryl, Evenie, or Summer Rose, they can’t get shit out of me. Please believe that.”

The server returned with our drinks, and we placed our orders. I didn’t miss her smiling extra hard at my dad, but he paid her no mind at all. Not even the slightest acknowledgment.

“So… how was your session?” he asked when she was gone.

“It was… a breakthrough. I actually talked to her today.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of you. Your mama and I try to give you space and not ask too many questions, but you know we are always here for you if you need to vent.”

“I know, Daddy.” I took a sip of my drink. “I think I need to slowly ease myself into coming outside alone. I have to get over this fear of being taken again.”

“Move at your own pace, baby.”

“I will. What do you think about me getting a gun?”

His eyes widened. “You ready for that?”

“I think I would feel better with protection on me. I mean, I can fight, but fists can only do so much in desperate times.”

“Well, if you want, I can contact a buddy of mine that teaches a gun safety course. With the amount of time that’s passed, I’m sure your concealed weapons permit has expired.”

I’d gotten my permit at the same time Nina got hers. I just never had a reason to carry a gun because she always had hers or Tyrion had his. Being that I was rarely without either of them, I didn’t see the need. Times had changed, and the need had risen.

“I’ll take you up on that,” I said.

“I’ll make the call, and it’s on me.”

“Daddy—”

He cut me off with the wave of his hand. “I ain’t trying to hear no lip about it, Evenie. I take care of the women in my house.”

I shook my head. This man was never going to change, and I loved that about him. If I could count on anybody to always be himself, it was David Long. Our food returned after another ten minutes or so. My father said grace, and we dug in. Like always, I enjoyed our time together. We took a trip down memory lane with my childhood, comparing me and Summer Rose at her age. She was more like me than I ever could have imagined, and I loved that.

After an hour and a half, we were headed back home. With the itis kicking in and my body feeling the effects of not sleeping much, I decided I would take a nap. When we walked into the house, the first thing I noticed was the look on my mother’s face. My father immediately went to her. They spoke softly for a minute before he turned to me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting my things down.

“Baby…” my mother said faintly, “you uh… you got a package today.”

“A package?”

She picked up a manilla envelope and handed it to me. I frowned as I reached for it. There was nothing written on the front, not even my name. I could tell my mother had opened it. When I unwrapped the string from the tab and reached inside, my eyes widened at what I pulled out.

Divorce papers.