Page 74 of Searching for Beautiful
I cry until I can’t cry anymore. Until my eyes hurt from all the tears. The living room is dark, night having come, but Dad hasn’t pulled away, not even to turn a light on. The TV is going in the background, making flashes of color dance on the walls. I manage to tune out the sound, try to focus on the blurry, dancing blues and reds.
I let Dad cuddle me and rock me in his arms. I realize then, I’m not crying for Jason. Not really. Did I want him to die? No, but I don’t think I can shed any more tears over him, either. Not over the boy who thought he could use me. Who called me to be a jerk and was so hurtful the last time I saw him.
I’m crying for the girl in the car with him and wondering if Jason told her all the same lies he did me. For Mom because I know the last thing she ever would have wanted was to leave Dad, to leave me. For Emery, her baby, and her struggles with Max. Angelica, Christian, and Brenda. I’m even crying for myself, too. For the girl I used to be who is now gone. For the one I became who is so broken. And for the girl I maybe hope to be one day.
I don’t stop until I can’t hold my eyes open any longer. Dad sits on the floor, his arms tightly wrapped around my body, rocking me, until I fall asleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Before
“Have you ever done something you regretted? I’m not talking about something small. I mean, life-altering regret. A mistake that hurts other people but you can never take it back?” I nuzzle Jason when he wraps his arm tigh
ter around me, holds me close, making me feel like he needs me the way I do him.
It takes him a few minutes to reply, which is strange. Jason is smart and well-spoken. He never has to work to put his words together. “I have…lots of times. Every time I do it, I tell myself it’s the last time. That I’m going to be smarter, be better, but it’s not always that easy. ”
His reply is so different from anything I’ve heard from him before. I try to sit up, but he holds me to him.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask.
“No, you don’t want to hear about that. ”
His father must really be horrible. I know he’s hit Jason a few times. Know he drinks, and I wonder how much more there is. I hate to think of the anger and rage Jason tells me he lives with. “It’s not your fault. ” That I believe. Jason can’t control how his father acts.
He gives me a humorless laugh. “That’s one of the things I love about you, Brynn. The way you believe in me, the way you trust me. It makes me feel like I’m invincible. ”
“I love you. ” I pray my words help. That they make him feel better. No matter how strong Jason is, no matter how strong anyone is, we all need love.
“You really do, don’t you?” His voice is soft, almost needy.
“You know I do. ”
“Good… I want that, Brynn. Tell me something about when you were younger. Something cool you used to do with your family. I like listening to your stories. ”
So I do. I tell him about a surprise picnic Mom and I made for Dad once. We got so excited about keeping it a secret and actually blindfolding him so he didn’t know where we were going that we forgot the food. I tell him about Dad teasing Mom and that we all split a candy bar she had in her purse for lunch.
Jason is quiet the whole time, stroking my hair as I speak, making me wish he had stories like that to share with me, too.
“Thanks…” He pauses, then continues. “Go to sleep, Red. I’ll be sure to wake you before you have to be home. ”
Jason rolls, tucking my back against his chest. I do what he says, close my eyes and let darkness swallow me, wondering if he’s doing the same.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Now
The sun shining through the living room window wakes me up. Dad’s arms are around me as he snores softly. I’m curled up next to him, leaning all my weight on his side as he sits on the floor. He slept all night like this, for me. The thought comes out of nowhere and I wonder what else he would do for his daughter. If he would do anything for me.
I look up at him and his eyes flutter open. Suddenly it’s like the words are impossible to hold back. They’re slamming against the wall inside me, taking fists and hammers to them, just so they can break free. Finally, finally they’re ready to fly. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know about Jason. I didn’t lie about my age. He told me he was seventeen. He said he loved me. I just wanted him to love me. ”
“What?” Dad moves, making it so I sit up, looking at him. Concern tilts the corners of his mouth down, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I know you didn’t lie, dolcezza. Do you think I don’t believe you?”
I look at the floor, trying to take his words in, and maybe hide, too, but Dad won’t let me. He’s tilting my head up so I have no choice but to meet his eye. “I believe you. I’ve always believed you. ” Mom and I have both always known, Dad says what he means. When he wants to, I’m not sure there is anyone in the world who can speak with as much conviction in their voice as he can.
He believes me. He’s always believed me.
I actually feel those words start stitching me together again. The more I look at him, see truth and sincerity holding me with his eyes, the faster the stitching goes. It’s like I was ripped in half, broken, and I’m slowly being put together again. “You believe me?”
